A/N: Hello everyone! So this is my very first work of fanfiction, hopefully it doesn't suck. There seems to be a shortage of Bruce/Rachel stuff out there so I'm trying my hand at it.

Warning: What you are about to read is pure fluff, I hope you enjoy.

Reviews are appreciated :)

Disclamer: I don't own Batman or Bruce Wayne, unfortunately.

Nurse

"Nurses: one of the few blessings of being ill." -Sara Moss-Wolfe

It was three o'clock in the morning and Rachel Dawes was tiptoeing down the halls of Wayne Manor, intent on getting a glass of water from the kitchen. She pulled her bathrobe tighter around herself, shivering as her feet hit the cold tile. Presently, a low groan escaped from the darkness at the end of the hallway.

"Hello? Alfred?" she called out. On her early morning wanderings she would often run into the old butler doing who knows what. It seemed as though the man never slept. She hoped that this was one of those times. Another groan echoed off the tile. She was starting to get nervous, silently calculating her escape routes. Suddenly the question of who was at the other end was answered with the appearance of the aforementioned butler, struggling to hold up a limping Bruce Wayne.

"Oh my God! Bruce!" she broke into a run towards the two and noticed upon getting closer that Bruce was very pale. His face was contorted in pain, and he was sweating profusely.

"Alfred! What happened?" she frantically asked as she attempted to hold Bruce up by the shoulder.

"It seems, Miss Rachel, that Master Bruce has come down with a case of influenza, and being too stubborn to admit illness, went out patrolling despite his condition. I found him passed out in an alleyway," the Alfred replied, all the while giving Bruce an 'I told you so' glare.

"I'm…fine," Bruce panted out. "I can walk on my own!" and he struggled out of his captors' grip, only to have his legs collapse under him.

"Bruce! How could you? You're in no condition to stand, let alone be Batman!" Rachel chastised, her brow furrowing. "Alfred, let's try and get him into bed." So she and the butler grabbed Bruce by the arms and hoisted him up. It was a slow trek to the bedroom as Bruce was rendered a complete dead weight in his condition. Finally they reached their destination and laid him down on the bed. Rachel set to work removing his shoes, and Alfred went to the bathroom to fetch some wet cloths.

"I'm sorry, Rachel," Bruce said weakly. "I was fine this evening, but when I got out on the street I was just so tired."

"I know, Bruce. I'm not mad. I just worry about you, that's all. You push yourself too hard. You're only human," Rachel said, pushing his hair out of his face and pulling his head into her lap. Just then, Alfred reentered the room with the cloths and handed them to Rachel.

"Thank you Alfred, I'll take it from here," she said.

"Alright, Miss Rachel. I'll call the doctor first thing in the morning," Alfred said, and he left the room, shutting the door softly behind him.

It was silent for a while as Rachel gently wiped the sweat from Bruce's brow. He was burning up, but shivering violently at the same time.

"I love you, Rachel," Bruce said, attempting to open his eyes.

"I love you too, Bruce," was the reply. "Now try to get some rest."

So he did just that, letting Rachel's soft touch in his hair lull him into a sound sleep, away from the delirium of consciousness.

Rachel woke up a few hours later with a terrible pain in her back. She had apparently fallen asleep sitting up, and her body was protesting the mistake loudly. Her eyes fell to Bruce who was still sleeping peacefully. He looked so calm and at ease, the lines between his eyes that normally graced his face during the waking hours were absent. For once, there seemed to be no tension in his features. The sun was just starting to peek in through the windows, and the rays glanced off of his face, making the strong willed man seem almost angelic. He had been through so much pain in his life, and yet sleep seemed to erase any trace of tragedy ever to befall him.

"Poor baby," Rachel whispered as she stroked her thumb across his cheek. He stirred slightly in response, turning into her touch and letting out a quiet sigh before becoming still once again. Deciding it was time to get up, she slowly inched herself off the bed, replacing her lap with a pillow underneath Bruce's head. Once again, he did not wake up, only clutched the pillow in his sleep.

She grabbed her robe off the floor and pulled it tightly around her waist. Tiptoeing out of the room, she closed the door quietly and set off down the hall to find Alfred. She discovered her quarry in the kitchen preparing a breakfast tray.

"Ah, Miss Rachel," Alfred said, "I was just about to bring you something to eat."

"Thank you, Alfred. You didn't have to do that," Rachel replied, giving a friendly smile to the butler.

"It's no trouble at all, Miss Rachel. If I may ask, how is Master Bruce doing this morning?" he questioned.

"Well, he seems better than last night. But he's still got a high fever. He's sleeping now. He needs it. He just works himself so hard, Alfred," Rachel said.

Alfred gave her a knowing look in response. "That is Master Bruce. It's in his nature."

"I suppose it is," Rachel sighed.

Just then, the doorbell chimed. "That will be the doctor," Alfred said, leaving the room.

All by herself now, Rachel grabbed the glass of orange juice that Alfred had poured for her and retired to the room that had been dubbed hers. She never actually slept in the bed there, but it was a place for her to keep her clothes and have her own bathroom. Bruce had insisted that she feel at home. She smiled. Oh Bruce, always looks out for others but never for himself. The real Bruce was so different from his outward persona. Everyone was convinced that he was careless and selfish. But in reality, he took every care to make sure that she was happy, and he was constantly showering her with gifts. She glanced at a picture on her vanity. It was of the two of them, taken on a trip to the Bahamas that he had surprised her with for their two month anniversary. Their arms were wrapped around each other, and they looked perfectly and incandescently happy. Her heart warmed.

Turning to her closet, she picked out an outfit for the day. Casual in jeans and a cream turtleneck sweater, she headed down the hall for the master bedroom. At the door, she met Alfred and the doctor leaving the room.

"So just give him one of these every six hours for the fever, and make sure he drinks fluids and gets plenty of rest," the doctor said, handing a bottle of pills to Alfred. Upon noticing Rachel, he smiled and extended his hand. "Hello, I'm Dr. Morgan. And you are?"

"I'm Rachel Dawes," Rachel replied shaking his hand. "I'm Bruce's girlfriend."

"Ah yes, the famous Rachel. Bruce is asking for you," Dr. Morgan said, smiling.

"Oh, is it okay for me to go in?" she asked.

"I don't see why not," Dr. Morgan said. "Just make sure it's not too long. He needs his rest."

"Of course," Rachel said.

"Well Alfred, I see that Mr. Wayne is in good hands," he said, smiling at Rachel. "Call me if you have any problems!"

"Yes thank you very much, Dr. Morgan," Alfred said, guiding the doctor toward the exit and leaving Rachel alone in the hallway.

She opened the door and peaked inside. Bruce was sitting up and eating a bowl of soup. "Hey there sleepyhead," she said entering the room and crawling over the big bed to sit down next to Bruce.

"Rachel," he croaked in response. "I'm sorry." He looked sheepish.

She kissed the side of his head and brushed his hair out of his face. "I'm not mad," she said. "I just want you to concentrate on getting better." She dropped a kiss on his shoulder. "Can you do that?"

"Yeah," he rasped. "I can do that."

"Good," she said kissing him on the forehead one last time before hopping off the bed. "Now finish eating and get some rest. I'll be back later to check on you."

"Rachel?" She heard as she was about to leave the room.

"Yeah, Bruce?"

"I love you."

She would never get tired of hearing those three little words coming from him.

"I love you too, Bruce." She smiled and shut the door behind her.

Over the next week, Bruce continued to improve. On the eighth day of his captivity, Rachel entered his room with a tray of food to find him curled up in the middle of the bed, covered completely by the duvet. She set the tray down on the night stand and climbed under the covers, lying next to him in the bed. After only a few minutes, she felt a pair of strong arms reach out and grab her waist, pulling her closer. So much for being asleep. She laughed.

"Bruce, I've brought you some lunch," she said, smiling.

No response.

Then after a minute, she felt a pair of warm lips planting a trail of kisses around her bellybutton.

"Bruce!" she squealed in surprise. "You're supposed to be asleep!" She threw back the covers to reveal a smirking billionaire. "Bruce..." she gave him her sternest look.

"Rachel," he countered, "I've done nothing but sleep for the past week, and now I really just want to kiss my girlfriend." And as if to prove his point, he planted another kiss on her stomach.

"Bruce, you're getting over the flu!" she pointed out.

"Oh I'm not contagious anymore! Besides, don't you miss kissing me? I miss kissing you…" Another kiss on her stomach.

"Of course I miss kissing you, Bruce," she said running her hand through his hair.

"Good. We're on the same page then." And with that he rolled over on top of her and proceeded to attack her mouth with his own.

She giggled lightly before giving in and letting him take over. God, I missed this. Bruce certainly knew how to kiss. He was currently kissing a trail up her jaw line towards her ear. It was sending chills down Rachel's spine. When he reached his destination, he placed his lips over her ear.

"You make a good nurse," he whispered. His warm breath on her skin made her shudder.

She let out a laugh as he rolled over onto his back, dragging her with him until she was lying on his stomach. "Thank you, though. For taking such good care of me," he said, his eyes turning serious as he took her hand and kissed each of her knuckles. She inwardly sighed. How did I ever get so lucky? She leaned down and kissed him, slow and sweet, her hair falling in a curtain around them. Suddenly his arm reached out and grabbed a fistful of sheet, yanking it over both of their heads which sent her into another fit of giggles.

They didn't get out of bed for the rest of the day.