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Everyone talks about the Carrie Kelley and Bruce Wayne/Batman pairing but I don't see anyone writing stuff. So Earth-31 let's have a crack at this one.

Sometimes I wonder if she realises that I am over sixty.

The relationship we have started out as simply mentor and young apprentice, but over the years it became more father and daughter-esk.

But now… now I see something in her that no father should see in their child.

A look… a look of desire, of want, of pure LUST.

She is smarter than me, faster and more brilliant than I ever was or ever will be. She will be the best Bat, more than I could ever have hoped for Dick or Jason to become.

She gets off on making them miss. I took the hits, but she dodges. I was strong as steel, while she is a sharpened steel blade.

She is dedicated, but is no hero. She persists not out of duty to herself or some tragedy of her past like I was, but because she wants to make a better world for all, she see what I have shown her and she believes in it.

She is not smug, but confident in the things she knows and the skills I have taught her all these year. She does not take credit when credit is due, but I thinks she does that to make me feel better, alas I'm sure realises that I know her game in that regard.

But the look persists either way.

I tell her my fire has gone out, I deliberately made my enfeeblement clear to all especially her. But she could always feel my flame even when hidden away as deep as I would push it. And with the resurgence of trouble, my flame came forth and I cannot hide behind my age or weaknesses any longer.

"I want you boss." Her voice said crisp and clear snapping me out of my revelry.

I stand aside her bed, gazing down at her, what I had believed to be her sleeping form.

"In what way?" I asked, dreading the response I knew would be forthcoming.

"You hide, but I can feel it. The way your breath catches when you see me, the way you touch my face as you think I'm asleep." She giggles too girlishly to be natural, "Your pulse quickens, your body beckons, I want you."

I sigh and shake my head, "My fault I guess for filling your head with all those lessons on non-verbal cues."

She grinned letting her smile shine naturally the mask dropping away for me to see, "I want you as a man wants a woman."

"Christ Carrie!" I hiss, "I'm old enough to be your father, heck grandfather, there are a hundred men or women in this cave that worship the ground you stand on. Find one of them to sate those needs."

I turned and walked away from the beds edge. But I hear the click of the doors remote lock snib shut.

"Carrie..." I plead turning to look at her.

She stood and walked towards me, pulling the collar of her shirt free, "I don't want some fucking wide eyed teen to worship me. I want a man… a REAL man to take me as I am."

I cringe and feel my aged heart race as she closes the distance between us quickly, her long toned legs easily visible under the oversized hocky shirt she wore as a nightie.

"I want you, the only person who ever saw me as me. A person of value and not just another hanger-on. A person in my own right."

"You are the most talented person I have ever met." I noted, bowing my head and looking at the ground away from her.

She grabbed my chin and lifted it, standing on tip toe she kissed my lips gingerly.

"Boss… Bruce." She whimpered, "please…"

I groan seeing her innermost self-brought to the surface for the first time in so so long.

The layers of training , the hours of gruelling methodical nigh indoctrination of my methods and ways were stripped away instantly leaving the pure and innocent woman I had refused to see all these year.

I grab her around her shoulders, letting my walking cane drop to the floor with a clang; picking her up I crush her to me in a bear strength hug.

"I love you Carrie." I whisper heavily in her ear.

"I love you Bruce." She replied.

We part and I let her down.

She smiles up at me and grins that cocky little grin she reserves for those she is about to beat to a pulp.

Her hand shoots out and grabs my sleeve. I parry and grab her shirt collar only then remembering it had been undone.

She pulls my sleeve while I try to lock her leg. Instantly we both tumble to the rug strewn floor. Her shirt pulling free with a rip and mine with a loud tear.

My bare and scared chest pressed against her firm sports bra.

It stuck me with awe then, that in all the years I had seen her, in all the times I had watched her dress, wash or walk naked in front of me for one reason or another I had never noticed how she had grown into a woman or how hefty her breasts had blossomed.

She moved up my body and checked my bad shoulder.

"I'm fine." I exclaimed noticing her concerned look when I did not move, "A little tumble like that was nothing. You on the other hand may kill me."

She snorted and snapped the strap on her bra, letting her breasts free.

I gaze in awe as her pert boobs bounce and settle. She grabs my left hand and places it atop her left tit.

I can feel how hard her nipple is as it presses against my hand. She groans as I run my coarse and calloused palm across the sensitive flesh.

She looks down at me and smiles evilly, "You ready for that glorious death you keep talking about then."

Authors Note:

Teaser for a new series. Review and comment for more.

Thanks for reading.

- Death7270