Eh, this is my first fanfic so definitely review and let me know what you thought.
It starts out as Lee/Bruce, might move to other trysts.
If you read this thoroughly instead of just scanning it for bits of sexual misadventures, I promise to make it worth your while, and probably tell a good story while we're at it.
Enjoy.
- Virge
Lee straightened up and flashed Mr. Barron her most winning smile. He groaned loudly and thrust his groin- raging erection and all- towards her.
"Please, baby, please finish me off-"
"Mr. Barron," said Lee, pulling herself back onto her feet quickly and roughly shoving his shoulders back, "You forget yourself."
She passed a hand through her hair and swiftly pulled out a compact mirror to check her lipstick. It wasn't smeared too badly.
"But-" said Mr. Barron, slow to sense the obvious. His hard-on was fast fading.
Lee had known men like this all her life. Mr. Barron came from a breed that slipped up the corporate ladder with smiling ease. His parents were rich and he always gotten his way, with every woman, with every job, nothing money can't buy. Lee looked at him with loathing and wondered how no one else could see the disgusting slug stuffed into a suit that he really was.
"I have to go," she said and, without checking to see if no one was listening in behind the door, walked out into the dim hallway.
"Can I see you again?" said Mr. Barron, not bothering to zip up, not concerned enough to keep his voice down.
"Not likely," Lee said and smiled broadly as her heels clicked against the linoleum.
"Mrs. August, you're late," said the mustached gentleman as he rose from her leather couch to greet her.
"It's Ms. August, actually," said Lee, "I'm not married."
The man only grinned more broadly and ran a hand through his oiled hair.
"But to business," she said, meeting his eyes full-on, "I hear you've got an interesting proposition for me. One so interesting, you refused to tell my secretary or my co-counsels about it."
"I do, yes," he said quickly with a half-bow.
Lee waited.
"My name is Mr. Tollini," the man said and hesitated to scan the room nervously before adding, "I work for the the Maronis."
Lee raised her eyebrows. Italian mobsters had sent this nervous, oily gentleman. It wasn't the first time.
"Salvatore Maroni get out of that car crash last year ok?" she said.
Mr. Tollini grinned.
"Yes, and he followed your participation in the Jonathan Crane case with much interest," he said.
"I was prosecuting him, yes," said Lee.
"We'd like to hire your services in defense of a certain man," said Mr. Tollini. He paused for dramatic effect.
"Who?" said Lee when it was clear he needed her prompting.
"Jack Napier," said Mr. Tollini with a smirk.
Lee shook her head blankly.
"I'm not familiar with-"
"He's the Joker," said Tollini and settled back in his chair, all tension suddenly released.
Lee raised her eyebrows again and looked over Tollini's forehead. Her mind was running a few steps ahead; questions, doubts, and all kinds of future complications shuttled through her.
"How much?" she asked.
"Fify K a day," said Tollini, "For every day it takes."
Lee looked carefully at Mr. Tollini.
"You're not afraid I'll drag this case out longer than it needs to be dragged out at this exorbitant fee?" she said, "Or rather, the Maronis aren't?"
"We know you'll do what it takes to get the job done," said Tollini with another smirk.
"We'll talk next week," said Lee, getting up from behind her desk.
"We'll talk tomorrow," said Tollini.
"I'll see you in a week," Lee said and opened the door, ready for him to leave.
Tollini shook his head and grinned.
"Monday, then?" he said.
"Seven o'clock," she said.
"I'll, uh, leave you with these files," said Tollini, "You might be interested in them while you think it over in that pretty head of yours."
He was handing her a grimy manila folder. Lee swallowed her grimance.
"Got any questions for me?" he asked.
"Yeah," said Lee, "Ask Mr. Maroni to come in himself if he really wants this case done."
Tollini bared his teeth and laughed loudly and scuttled out of the room.
Lee looked at the file in her hands. It was thick; probably full of dirty little secrets.
She sat down at her desk and paged Carl and took a sip from her water bottle.
Carl Turgeon came quickly; he'd probably been following the conversation on the discrete intercom system.
"Lee Rosie August, I can read your mind," he said with a smile.
"Read it for me, Carl, because I haven't decided anything yet," she replied.
"You don't want to be tangled up with the Maronis. You don't like the fish on the front doorstep, the shoes with cement. You're thinking Fifty K could retire you for life, but you don't like the sound of a dirty Fifty K," said Carl, "You're thinking 'No'."
Lee looked down and shifted the files in her hand and nodded.
"Lee," said Carl, straightening his plaid tie and looking her in the eye, using the persuasive tone of voice he usually reserved for their clients, "Listen. This kind of offer- I'm not trying to sound all cliché Hollywood here- but this kind of offer comes once every lifetime."
"So you're thinking 'Yes'," said Lee.
"I'm thinking you need to beef up and take that case the way you made me beef up and take the Pittsburgh case. Remember that?" said Carl.
"Yeah, sure, I remember it," said Lee.
"You're not getting your scruples back, are you?" said Carl.
Lee smiled.
"I got a few scruples. I also got a few rational thoughts. Like, how would you like Gotham City to turn against August and Turgeon and Associates in Law faster than an eyeblink? How would you like our PR to take a nose-dive?"
"So go visit a few cancer kids," said Carl, "Take a day off and plant a tree and get the newspapers to write an article about it. PR is easily done. But what Stephen Shulman did for Nixon, William Jennings Bryan did for the Bible, we can do for Gotham's favorite criminal."
Lee looked out the window.
"And for fifty K a day too," said Carl.
Lee shook her head and exhaled loudly.
"Tell me how you convince me into things infinitely bad for me every time," she said.
"With infinite pleasure," he replied.
"You take care of the madding crowd, I'll take care of Wayne Enterprises," said Lee as she slipped Carl the manila folder on her way out of the office.
"Shouldn't be hard," said Carl with a half-smile.
"Harder than you think," said Lee, "He's a very impossible man."
"Lee," said Bruce Wayne, holding her at arm's length for a smile and a chaste peck on the forehead, "How are you?"
"I'm fine," she said, "And you? How was golf with Linell Incorporated?"
"You know," said Bruce, "Surprisingly more competitive than I bartered for. You smell great, by the way. Is it new?"
"No, it's not new," said Lee with a toss of her hair, "Shall we?"
Bruce took her by the elbow and they walked towards the front entrance to Le Chatellier. Music and laughter and the clink of a dozen glamorous glasses held high sounded.
Lee waited until Bruce was seated and the waiter waved away with their orders before breaking the news to him.
"I think I'm going to take on a new case," she said.
"So soon?" said Bruce, "I was thinking we could take a little time off from work, both of us, and escape somewhere."
Lee smiled and subtly checked her watch.
"It's a big case," she said.
"I thought the Jonathan Crane case was pretty big," he said with a chuckle, "You should've won that one."
"It's the Joker case," said Lee quickly. She raised her eyes to check his reaction.
Bruce stopped smiling.
"The Joker?" he said, "Lee, are you nuts? If you prosecute him, you're going to have your entrails literally removed from you by force somehow."
Lee shook her head.
"I'm not prosecuting him. I'm defending him in court."
Bruce's jaw dropped.
"I got the case today," said Lee.
"But- that bastard," said Bruce, "How'd he get someone to contact you?"
"It was Maroni's men," said Lee, "I think they're trying to cover something up. I'm not sure why they would want to protect him after all he's done."
"I don't know about this, Lee," said Bruce, looking intently at his empty plate, "You do know he's batshit crazy."
"I know, Bruce," said Lee, "He crashed your party last year. I was there."
"Oh, yeah, I'd forgot," said Bruce, "Did you see what he did?"
Lee smiled and looked at Bruce closely.
"No, I was off in another room when he entered. I did hear the gunshots. By the time I got back, he'd left."
"I see," said Bruce.
They sat for a while in silence.
"Lee, he's absolutely insane," said Bruce, "I don't you should take the case."
Lee raised her eyes to Bruce's dark-brown irises and pursed her lips.
" Bruce, you act like you've got a personal vendetta against him," she said, "Are you scared I'll drag the good name of Wayne Enterprises through the mud with me? Are you scared of bad PR?"
"Oh my god, not everything is about Wayne Enterprises or my reputation or anything like that," said Bruce defensively, "Maybe I actually care about this city and I think it's morally reprehensible to defend that man."
"He has a name, it's Jack Napier," said Lee coolly.
Bruce let out a bitter laugh.
"Are you even listening to me? I'm telling you this case isn't one you should touch with a ten-foot pole," he said, "It's going to contaminate you."
"This case happens to pay fifty grand a day," said Lee.
"So?" said Bruce.
"So, maybe I actually need to work for my income," said Lee louder than she'd intended to, "Maybe this is a lot of money to me."
"God, Rachel, this is a horrible idea," said Bruce.
"What did you call me?" said Lee.
"Oh, God, I'm sorry Lee," said Bruce, wiping a hand over his face, "I didn't mean to say that. I just don't like the sound of this."
"Don't worry about it," said Lee coldly, turning to look at the other couples at the other tables.
Bruce's Blackberry rang; he instinctively had it in his palm. Lee was momentarily impressed by the speed of his reflexes. Of course he would be quick, quick to cut this conversation short, quick to make his getaway goodbye excuse. She examined the wine bar menu. It was going to look like Taiquiris for Lee, alone, tonight.
"I'm sorry," said Bruce, tucking his phone back into his vest, "Where were we?"
"Probably halfway into a rowdy argument about the merits of me taking on a fifty-grand-a-day case," said Lee with a fierce frown, before blinking back up at Bruce and breaking into a grin in spite of herself.
Bruce laughed loudly.
"Please just think about it carefully," said Bruce, "I don't want you hurt."
"Touching, Mr. Wayne," said Lee as she toasted him with her champagne.
Lee called Carl when she was in the comfortingly unglamorous shelter of her home again.
"Is Bruce almighty down with the case?" he asked as soon as he picked up.
"I got him drunk enough that he probably couldn't refuse anything," said Lee with a lazy smile.
"Splendid, good gal," said Carl approvingly, "I'd hate to have the city's most powerful man, and your boyfriend to boot, mad at our humble law firm."
"He's not my boyfriend," said Lee, "We've only gone on three dates. But who's counting?"
"Evidently, you," said Carl.
"No, but I've just got one problem," said Lee.
"Spill," said Carl.
"I got stinking drunk while I was at it, at my persuasion," said Lee with a broad grin, "Want to come drink a few with me and get even more inebriated?"
"Bad girl," said Carl, "I want to, except Richard called and said he might be coming over later tonight. I'm just waiting up for him."
"Richard's not coming," said Lee, "Will you forget about your tangled love life and come get drunk now?"
Carl was quiet on the line.
"Fine," he said, "I'm bringing Barbara Streisand and some coffee right now. See you in five. And remember, you're the one calling up your dandy Mr. Tollini to tell him you'll take the case."