I know, I know - I've got crap-loads of other stories to finish, but this one has been on my mind for ages now and it's. Not. Going. Away! So I guess I'll put it on here and see what kind of reception it gets. Hopefully, you guys will like it :)

This is a Bane x OC Female x Blake fanfic, so if you don't like that love triangle, then don't read. This will also be a slow burn romance - there will be overly dark Bane, nor a I-Fell-In-Love-With-Her-Upon-First-Glance, Bane. Again, don't like that, then don't read either.

Reviews are my crack, so please, everyone feel free to fund my addiction. Flames, however, will not be tolerated and will be picked apart and sacrificed to the Writing Gods at the beginning at every chapter. Reviews with constructive criticism, however, will be more than welcome and will be greeted with milk and cookies :)

This is my first Dark Knight fanfic and if I've gotten anything wrong, then please, let me know! I will be happy to go back in and change it.

So, without further ado, please read, review and enjoy!

- Nagiana

"John! Hurry up – the game is almost on!"

"One minute, Nat! I'm coming as fast as I can!"

Natalie Simmons grinned and sat up, giant bowl of popcorn being cradled in her lap, as her boyfriend all but ran into the living room, a grin on his face. He jumped over the back of the couch and Natalie squeaked and hugged the bowl to her stomach as the force of him hitting the couch, launched her a few good inches into the air. She landed and gave him a look, one that he continued to grin at.

He handed her a beer. "See, I'm here. Just in time, too." He told her and she narrowed her eyes slightly before taking the brown bottle from him. They both of them popped the tops off as he opened his legs and pulled her back against him as he himself sunk back against the arm of the leather couch. She went willingly, placing a few pieces of popcorn in her mouth with her free hand as her back comfortably met his front. His beer appeared on her thigh while the other grabbed some of the popcorn being cradled on her lap, as well.

Things had been exciting in the small household all day. After all, it was only the big day – the day when all of Gotham City saw whether or not their football team, the Gotham City Rogues, would go to the Super Bowl, or would be doomed to languish another year without football fame. It was huge, because for once, Gotham seemed to have a great team and an even better coach than the more disappointing previous season. And for Natalie Simmons and her boyfriend, Officer John Blake of the GCPD, it was certainly something to be excited for, considering the both of them were huge football fans.

"Remember: whoever's team wins, gets oral tonight." He grinned with a twinkle in his eye as he took a swig of his beer. Natalie shot him another look mid-chew. Finally, and with a look of amusement appearing in his eyes, she covered her mouth with her hand and quickly finished chewing. She swallowed and then spoke.

"Are you serious -?"

He shot her a challenging look and wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Completely. Better hope your team wins."

"But that's not fair, Blake! We're both rooting for the Rogues like usual!" She spoke up, and Blake's grin turned down into a smile as he leaned down and pressed a loving kiss to the tip of her nose.

"Well then, let's hope our team wins." He replied, his voice low and husky, and Natalie couldn't help but allow a grin of her own to spread across her face as she snuggled deeper against her man, popcorn in one hand, and beer bottle in the other. They watched silently through pre-game commercials and announcements. They impatiently sat through the commentators discussing the players from the two teams to watch this particular game and Natalie couldn't help but giggle when Blake impatiently shouted for them to hurry up before rolling his eyes.

"Being a cop hasn't taught you any patience yet?" She asked, grinning around the rim of her beer bottle, and he shook his head.

"Not when it comes to football, babe. Never when it comes to football."

She grinned and took another swig as the game finally came on. Blake gave an ecstatic whoop that Natalie quickly shushed, much to his amusement, for she had been sure that it had been loud enough to make the neighbors complain. After shooting him a playfully reprimanding look, the both of them devoted their attentions solely to the game playing out on the plasma screen in front of them.

The game turned out to be a regular nail biter – one of the more stressful ones that Blake and Natalie had ever gone through together in their relationship. By half time, their cuddling had abruptly ended and they were both sitting on the edges of their seats, the bowl of half-eaten popcorn on the coffee table in front of them and their forgotten beers sitting on the wood floor at their feet. The half time show was barely acknowledged, with the both of them desperate for the game to come back on so they could settle the bet that Blake initiated but which Natalie had reluctantly followed along with.

The last half of the game was stressful not only for them, but also for their neighbors on their left side, who turned out to be fanatic followers of the opposing team. Whenever they cheered about their team scoring, Blake's voice would be tinged with irritation as he muttered something about how they weren't true Gothamites if they weren't even followers of the home team. However, Natalie giving an ecstatic whoop of her own with the Rogues scored the next touchdown, drowned him out.

She wasn't entirely sure, but was still pretty sure that by the end of the game, them and their neighbors were having a little bit of a rivalry going themselves. By the end of the game, both households were screaming at their respective TVs, cheering their teams on and jeering and name-calling the opposing team (many of which had Blake returned with a roared 'asshole' and 'dick'). In fact, the game had gotten Blake so high-strung, that by the time the score was tied and only two minutes were left on the screen, he was standing on the couch and practically jumping up and down screaming for the Rogues to get their shit together so that their douchebag neighbors wouldn't be able to hold something over their heads when they passed each other in the hallways or stood beside each other in the elevator.

Their neighbors were shouting something similar, but a lot more cordially than Blake was.

Natalie would have found the whole things intensely amusing if she wasn't too busy worrying if he was going to fall and break something. Namely, something that wasn't him. She knew Blake – she knew how hard his head was. She wasn't worried about him in the slightest. It was her furniture and the floor she was worried about.

"John, would you please sit – Holy shit! Go, Rogues, GO!"

"Come on, come one, come on! Rogues, come on – beat their fucking asses!"

The buzzer loudly rang out when the Rogue's quarterback ran the touchdown and it seemed like half of their apartment building exploded into cheers, as well as half of Gotham (although she doubted it was true. She was probably just imagining things). Their neighbors let out loud groans of disappointment as Blake let out a joyful yell and hopped down from the couch. His fists shot towards the ceiling and Natalie could only help but grin and laugh and shake her head indulgently as she quickly moved his half-empty beer bottle out of the way before he could tip it over. On the surface, Blake looked like a very well put together young man – and he was! But you put football in front of him and a different animal entirely was likely to come marching out, roaring its team spirit for its home team in a very childlike way.

Breathing hard, he collapsed back onto the couch and Natalie gave a laugh as she picked up the remote and switched the channel. Gotham City News was the channel she flipped to, but neither really took notice. Blake still had way too much adrenaline coursing through his veins to worry about Vicki Vale talking about the preparations of Harvey Dent's funeral, and Natalie was too busy listening for an angry pounding on their door from the scorned neighbor's next doors that had been so unceremoniously dragged into competing with them.

"That was a good game!" She spoke before picking up her lukewarm beer and draining it. She grimaced at the taste, and Blake nodded as he sat there, his breathing steadily returning to normal.

"Yup. Damn good game. Remind me to apologize to the neighbors later." He grinned and she shook her head.

"I doubt it'll do any good. I remember a few choice phrases coming from your mouth that'll be really hard to apologize for." She returned and he shook his head and gave a bark of a laugh.

"I'll blame it on the heat of the moment." She gave a snort of laughter.

"Wouldn't be the first time I've heard that before." She muttered, and immediately, Blake pinned her with a look.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She gave a shrug.

"Oh . . . nothing in particular." She replied and he shook his head, his eyes narrowing in playful suspicion.

"Oh no, I know you, Nat! Now what did you mean by that?" He demanded, and she shook her head again, forcing herself to keep a grin from off her face.

"Nothing, John! Forget it!" She told him and he nodded slowly.

"Uh-huh. Okay, well . . ." He shook his head as he pursed his lips. "Damn . . . it looks like you won." He heaved a fake sigh then as he picked up his beer and drained it before setting the now empty bottle down on the coffee table in front of them. Natalie furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

"But . . . we were both rooting for the Rogues, right? 'Cause tell me I did not imagine your overexcitement!" She spoke, and Blake gave her a look that immediately had her shivering in very much of a good way.

"It's a free country, so I just happened to change my mind at the last minute – I think I'm entitled to do that! So, I ended up losing," He gave a shrug. "Guess that means you're the one who gets the oral tonight . . ." Natalie rolled her eyes.

"Oh Christ, John, I can just tell how much you're dying inside because of it!" She joked and he nodded, a grimace appearing on his face. However, that didn't stop him from his fingers making swift work of the button and fly of her jeans as he fell to his knees in front of her. A grin spread across his features as he impatiently pulled the denim down her legs.

"Oh, you know I'm fuckin' dyin' inside, Nat!"

Natalie had a brother. Her brother was named Billy and Billy was currently an inmate in Blackgate Prison. They hadn't grown up with bad parents, quite the contrary – they had really good parents. Paula and Theodore Simmons loved both their children dearly and doted on them as much as their lives would allow. Natalie was the youngest and the baby, so naturally, that put a lot of pressure on Billy to be a good influence for his little sister. Instead of being that good influence, Billy ended up falling in with the wrong crowd. Petty vandalism and the occasional shoplifting of cigarettes and beer bottles from the local five-and-dime, eventually turned into Grand Theft Auto and breaking into jewelry stores. By the time he was eventually packed off to Blackgate, Billy Simmons was a career convict with an already pretty long rap sheet.

When she hooked up with Blake, Billy had been furious. He accused her of sleeping with the enemy because of Blake working with the Gotham City P.D., as well as whole slew of other hurtful things that eventually culminated in him telling her to not even bother making the trip up to visit him anymore. Natalie, who had grown up with thick skin thanks to her brother's rough-and-tumble friends that you would not want to meet alone in a dark alley at night, allowed them roll off her like water. She knew Billy didn't mean his words – not truly. She knew Billy loved her and considering their mother and father had died years ago in a freak car accident, she was the only family he had left. He was stuck in that prison for a very long time, but she knew he was grateful to her for being one of his only links to the outside world. She would tell him news – what was happening in Gotham and the world at large, how their Gam Gam was doing, if she had finally broken up with the pig and got with a guy he could proudly shake hands with upon being released . . .

To Blake's credit, he never sunk down to Billy's level and started hurling insults on how her brother was nothing more but a convicted lowlife who wasn't worth a shit. In fact, she never saw a hint of anything similar in his eyes or on his face whenever she brought up the fact that she had gotten a phone call or a letter from him. Instead, he was supportive of her sending care packages to her brother and even inquired at the station at one point to see if he could weasel a few years off of Billy's already astronomically large prison sentence. It was useless even asking, of course, but just him trying, showed Natalie he really cared, and despite what Billy said, made her determined to stick with him. She had finally found a good guy in John Blake. She wasn't about to give him up and fuck things up.

It was to her brother's latest prison letter, that she was busy reading when Blake's voice diverted her attentions away from his messy scrawl. "Jeez, you're up early . . ."

Natalie turned at the waist to watch him enter the living room from their bedroom, a groggy look on his face, hair impossibly messy despite its shortness, and clad in nothing but a pair of his black briefs. Natalie grinned at the sight. Blake wasn't much of a mourning person, unlike her, but that didn't keep her from thinking about how he was just about the cutest damn thing she could look at in the morning.

She nodded as she returned her eyes onto the piece of notebook paper in her hands. "Yeah, I know, but I thought I'd go visit Gam Gam today before work." She told him and Blake nodded as she quickly added before she forgot: "Coffee's already made in the coffeepot, by the way."

Blake grinned despite his grogginess as he continued to zombie-shuffle into the kitchen. "You're a bloody angel, Nat!" He muttered and Natalie gave a sound of playfully caustic agreement. He picked up a chipped coffee mug from the dish strainer by the sink and after rinsing it out, moved to the coffee pot. He then proceeded to fill the mug with steaming black liquid which he drank with enough sugar to make Natalie's stomach hurt. She wasn't that big of a coffee drinker to begin with (although she did drink it occasionally), but she was pretty sure one did not normally drink it with enough sugar to give even a professional athlete diabetes!

"What's that you're reading?" He asked as he took a sip of his coffee and moved to join her. Taking a seat on the barstool beside her, he wrapped his free hand around her waist and pulled her to him. She went willingly enough, and hardly noticed when his fingers began absentmindedly playing with the elastic band of her black boyshorts.

"Billy's latest letter." She told him and he nodded and took another sip before swallowing and pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. Clad only in a pair of black boyshorts and matching strappy tank top, she figured she should start getting dressed in time to see Gam Gam before she had to go to work. However, with Blake sitting beside her, his lean, muscular body warm and protective beside hers, she found herself wanting to linger. And after last night, all she wanted to do was for them to play hooky so they could stay in bed all day.

However, she knew there was a fat chance in Hell of that happening. Blake was trying to make Detective and Natalie didn't relish having her boss scold her over how she should take better care of herself because her petty job as a clerk at the bank right next to the New York Stock Exchange was just so important!

"Anything new?" He asked, simply to be polite. He knew nothing had happened since Billy's last letter except for maybe someone getting shanked during dinner one evening. His suspicions were confirmed when Natalie slowly shook her head.

"Nope. Someone did get shanked during dinner one evening, but that's about it . . ."

Blake let out a snort of laughter that thankfully his gulp of coffee, hid. He so called it.

"So, what else are you doing today, other than seeing Gam Gam and then going to work?" Natalie gave a shrug.

"I dunno. Kai mentioned something about possibly going to lunch together this afternoon, but, I don't know . . . I don't think I'll have time. My boss has been positively hounding my ass!" She spoke in irritation before setting down the letter, having finished reading it. Blake picked it up then and his eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration as he read it.

"Maybe you'll get a promotion soon; maybe that's why he's been hounding you. Hell, maybe we'll get one on the same day. That'd be cool!" He replied, and Natalie let out a snort of laughter.

"No, the fucker just likes looking at my ass!" She muttered before turning around and heading off in a huff down the hallway that led towards the bedroom and the shower and her closet beyond. Blake let out a laugh as he turned to watch her go.

"Hey, as long as he doesn't touch your ass, I'm fine! Your glorious hindquarters are mine!" He told her, and Natalie rolled her eyes and shook her head, however, a small smile spread across her face at his words, nevertheless.

"Oh, aren't you just my hero?" She called back, sarcasm heavily lacing her tone, and he gave a grin as he quickly drained his coffee. He heard the shower cut on and hurried to place the mug in the sink before marching off down the sunny hallway lined with pictures of the two of them.

"Hey, Batman can't be everywhere at once, you know! All the other times, we little guys have to try our best to hold the fort without him!" He spoke, and heard her laugh again from within the bathroom. The door was ajar ever-so-slightly and for a moment, as he headed to get his uniform out of his closet, he contemplated on whether or not he could use a shower, as well. He paused, thinking, as she spoke:

"Well . . . at least Batman's ass looks good in spandex . . ."

Blake released a breathy laugh. "Oh, okay, I see how it is! You better watch yourself, 'cause I'm comin' in!" He laughed before ditching his uniform on the hopelessly rumpled bed. Stripping himself of his briefs as he went, he knew hopping in the shower would put him arriving at the station late – would put Gordon chewing him a new asshole, but hey! He couldn't honestly have his own girlfriend talking that way about him, now could he?