Disclaimer: None of the characters mentioned in this story belong to me. They belong to DC Entertainment and them alone. Just because I am expanding on these characters in as a mere hobby, does not mean I am claiming them.

The motel room was dimly lit. She knew she could've afforded much better, but he always preferred it this way. A rundown location where no one could discover them. It had become a pattern at this point.

A painful pattern.

The redhead peered out through the window. She could see the flickering of the red sign in the pools of water collected inside cracked concrete. She ran her hands over her shoulders in an attempt to bring warmth to her body.

He liked it that way. Ice cold and frigid. She could only assume that it was due to the latex suit he wore with pride. Even though he did his work when the sun faded, the evenings were hot.

Running water was loud in her ears as her attention was brought back to the shower.

It has been a while.

She, still rubbing her arms, made her way towards the bathroom door. She right outside of the door. She reached for it with trembling fingers, but stopped short. She let her arms drop to her side and sighed. Her fear of driving him away made it difficult for her to do anything.

I don't want to be alone tonight.

There was a squeak from the shower knob before the room went silent. It took a few moments to register that he was likely to exit the bathroom soon. It took longer than she'd like to admit.

Just when she was about to turn on her heels and make her way to the bed, the door opened. The light was blinding compared to the ill-lit room. It took a few blinks for her eyes to adjust to the new lighting. With a tilt of her chin, she was gazing at him. Emerald eyes met deep blue ones briefly before she submissively averted her gaze.

"I-I was beginning to worry."

She explained. He never sought an explanation. He probably didn't care about anything other than the events that unfolded during their late night rendezvous.

"It's okay, Pam."

He took her chin into his hand gently and brought their lips together. It was a kiss of subtle passion. Soft lips against calloused ones--

Years of dry nights can do that to a man.

Pamela pulled away for a moment to study the features in his face. He was as stoic as always. It never seemed to matter where he was or what he was doing. If he was behind the mask or at a party, his expression never seemed to change.

"I--"

She pulled away and moved to the bed. His expression changed for a moment. It was one of hurt? But it was only for a moment. He began to make his way to the bed as well, towel neatly tied around his hips.

"Bruce."

He halted almost immediately. She had never seen him stop so quickly in his tracks.

Could he be anxious?

"I'm afraid I've fallen in love."

There was a hint of guilt in her voice as she said those words. Love was against the rules.

"I know."

Bruce stated simply. She was taken aback. Her eyes wide as they searched for something in his own. His brows were knitted together in something akin to shame.

"I see."

He knelt down before her, taking her hands in his own. Pamela was startled by his abrupt actions. Her curls bounced gracefully with her slight jump in fear.

"You're a wonderful woman, Pamela. Any man would be blessed to have you, but--"

Her demeanor altered.

"Spare me the pity, Bruce. You needn't feed me lies to mend my heart."

Bruce avoided her eyes. They were powerful, stunning. Love is captured through a woman's eyes, and he did not want to risk falling for her.

"Make love to me, my Knight."

And things happened so simply, fluently. No action was forced. No movement was rigid. Everything was just as it had always been. Routinely painful.