It was after four in the morning when Batman was finally able to break off his pursuit of the Joker. He moved silently over her darkened balcony despite a multitude of fresh aches and pains that were forming after their fall from his penthouse and crashing onto the waiting taxi below.
Alfred would have had any injuries she might have sustained treated before letting her go home, and would most likely not approve of this evenings actions, but he had to be sure that Rachel was all right after that fall. He was hurting more than normal and at least he was used to being beaten and mauled on a regular basis; he could not imagine how she would feel after a more than 40 story drop with only his body to protect her from the full force of the impact. Rachel may be a tough woman, but he doubted her regular jogs through the neighborhood park had prepared her for this evening.
Batman looked around again, checking that there was no motion coming from inside Rachel's apartment, and quietly forced open the sliding glass door that led into her living room.
Glancing around the area, he saw the coat she had worn to the party draped over the back of a chair and a pair of pretty, but uncomfortable looking high heals kicked off into a corner. There was no sign of any male paraphernalia about the room. It seemed that Dent had not accompanied her home tonight, or if he had, Rachel had wanted to be alone.
He wished she would have accepted Alfred's invitation to stay at the penthouse, then this nocturnal breaking and entering would not have been necessary, he could have just looked in on her when he got home rather than reveal that he knew exactly where she lived despite never being invited to her home. If he was honest with himself, he would prefer she stayed at the penthouse permanently where he could protect her, but those feelings were best left unspoken.
Her home.
He took off the mask and gloves of the bat suit and set them aside. Letting his eyes wander around the apartment, he absorbed the calm of this space where Rachel spent much of her fee time. Unlike his penthouse, this apartment feels like a home; a place to live, not a lifeless space that looks like well designed advertisement for Architectural Digest masquerading as a home. However, since so much of his life was a front, perhaps it was fitting that his current residence was part of that mask he presented to the world. After all, the saying is that home is where the heart is and until tonight his heart was never in that Penthouse.
At the far end of the room, next to the comfortable looking chair where her coat had been carelessly tossed, was an unlit fireplace that must light up the room when in use. On the mantle she had arranged a small collection of bric-a-brac and photos that smiled out at the room from their silver frames. Among these recollections of her life were the usual things he expected to find; pictures of her parents, Rachel in her cap and gown with a group of friends a University graduation, a newspaper cutting about her first big trial win as an ADA.
Then there was the picture he had not known still existed. Smiling out from the frame was a much younger Rachel's happy, suntanned face with her arms looped around the neck of a young man. It was him. He was staring down at her with a half smile curving his lips up and an expression on his face that clearly showed that at that moment, the young Bruce Wayne was looking at the most precious thing in the world rather than glance at Alfred, who had taken the picture many summers ago. How Bruce wished he could go back and talk with the boy in that picture, tell him to make peace with his demons and not let that smiling girl slide away from his side where she belonged.
Dropping his fingers from where they had been locked on the side of the frame, Bruce gave himself a mental shake. There was nothing he could do now to erase the past for either of them, but maybe he could make the future one worthy of the girl Rachel had been in that picture and also the valiant woman she had become. Once the joker was captured it was time to let the Batman go. The city would have Dent and Gordon to protect it and they would ensure that Gotham continued to become a safer place for all its inhabitants and he could finally get to the serious business of trying to make Rachel Dawes happy.
There was a shaft of dim light coming from a room at the end of a short hall. Bruce decided it was time to brave Rachel's possible wrath and see for himself that she had come through the night not too much the worse for wear.
As he moved to the door, he could see a set of stockings littering the floor where they had been pealed off on the way to the side of a still made bed. Apparently pulling of her shoes and stockings had been her only attempt at comfort before she fell asleep because there was Rachel, looking rumpled but beautiful, still in her cocktail dress and her hair still partially contained by pins at the nape of her neck, fast asleep on the far side of the bed.
From his angle to the side of the bed and the way she was laying with one knee moved up towards her waist, Bruce could see some of her left thigh and shoulder had the greenish purple tinge of a newly developing bruise. Not all of her had escaped the violent impact earlier. He let out a deep breath he had not known he had been holding in sheer relief that, other than some bruising, she seemed to be in one piece. No disjointed limbs or large bandages in site on her slender form.
Bruce quietly moved around the bed to kneel close to her head and brush a few of her disheveled brown locks off of her forehead. As he smoothed her hair back from the temple, he heard her breathing hitch ever so slightly from the deep even breathing that had been the only sound in the room before he had touched her. He was torn. He knew that sleep would be the best thing for her right now but at the same time desperately wanted to pluck her off the bed and bury his nose in her hair to verify that Rachel was still in one piece and recovering.
The considerate side of his nature won, or perhaps it was just cowardice. He was willing to brave any manner of thieves, gangsters or low life scum that the city could throw at him but he was terrified of the reaction that this one woman would have to see him looming over her bed in the small hours of the morning.
He turned to leave as silently as he had entered her room, but the movement near her bed combined with his earlier touch must have been the final trigger to bring her to consciousness.
"Bruce?" her voice thick with sleep murmured from the bed. "Is that really you or am I still dreaming?"
"Shh Rachel," He responded as he turned back to sit next to her reclining body on the edge of the bed. "Everything is fine. I needed to make sure you were going to be all right before I could sleep tonight."
His hand seemed to have a mind of its own and was drawn back towards her face to cup her cheek. Her head turned ever so slightly so that the fullness of her cheek rested in the palm of his hand. Bruce knew that she had to feel the calloused that he had earned from long hours of the bat suit's gauntlets shifting against the sides of his hands scraping her face, but she gently rubbed her cheek back and forth in his palm a few times like a sleepy cat attaching it's sent to a beloved human.
She seemed to wake a little more fully and pulled back from his touch, remembering why he was in her apartment. "I ache all over but I will be fine in a few days. All I need is a very hot bath for the stiffness and some aspirin."
Rachel looked at him more closely, her eyes moving over his torso and arms still encased in one of his disguises from the world. He was not sure what she had been looking for, but then her eyes moved to his face and gazed directly into his eyes, seeming to search for something hidden in their depths. She shifted slightly closer to his side on the bed and the expression on her face changed subtly. He couldn't quite read all the emotions that passed over her face in that change, but if he had been pressed to say what he saw there now, Bruce would have summed it up in one word; hope.
Her quite voice broke into is thoughts. "You came here tonight as the Batman but you took off that mask before coming to me. Dare I think that this means you were honest earlier when you said the time for Batman is ending for good and that you are ready to drop the facades at least with me?" She continued on, searching his face for the truth. "I know the real Bruce Wayne has changed from the boy I knew so well in the past, I've changed too, but after all this joker craziness is done can you leave this part of your life behind for good?"
These words, so quietly spoken were like a balm being rubbed over a partially healed wound, but this time the wound was nothing physical. The wound was his scared soul that had been looking for something intangible all these years. Perhaps it was the death of his parents that drove him away from most relationships thinking they would never last, that the people he loved most would be taken from him, but he had always loved Rachel, first as a friend, then later as something more, and here she was implying that she wanted more from him than casual friendship when his time as Batman came to an end.
He pulled her closer for a quick kiss. Well, he had intended it to be quick. But alone in her bedroom with no chance of interruption, what started as a gentle kiss to convey his love and worry for her safety and well being, quickly spiraled out of control. When she broke away, breathless, a few minutes later any pins that had been left in her hair were scattered around the pillows and on the floor next to the bed and her hands had worked their way under the neck of his suit, pressing insistently at the top of his spine.
Rachel looked flushed, as if she felt slightly embarrassed that things had become so heated so fast between them, but lushly inviting at the same time. Bruce grinned slightly and bit back a laugh when she started to pull her bottom lip into her mouth and abrade it slightly with her top front teeth. It was a familiar gesture from childhood that she had used when she was confused about something but was not willing to put that confusion into words. For reasons he could not explain, he was glad to see it was still a habit for the determined woman before him.
Rachel pulled back farther from his body and slowly unfolded her arms from their resting place around his shoulders and neck, bringing her hands to rest in her lap as she sifted to sit upright next to him, a small wince accompanying her movements. "Harvey asked me to marry him at the party tonight, but something held me back from accepting." She looked away from his penetrating gaze as it worked quickly over her face and began to play with the hem of her dress where it rested against her pulled up legs. Then she started speaking again, this time in almost a whisper, as she exhaled a deep breath. "If I'm honest, it was not something but someone. It was you."
The grin was back on his face, and this time it was bordering on a full fledged smirk. He had known, of course, that Rachel was dating Dent. Known that Dent was a good man, the kind of man she should be with. He had even known that Rachel had feelings for Dent. What Bruce had not been sure of was whether the depth of her feelings for him, and their past together, would be enough to outweigh the charm of a man she could be with openly and proudly for the entire world to see.
Bruce knew he might be physically attractive, a billionaire, someone that the papers had nicknamed the "Prince of Gotham" and "Gotham's Most Eligible Bachelor," but none of the hype would matter to a person like Rachel. In fact, he knew the media attention and the blasé persona he showed to the general public were not points in his favor in her eyes. If Rachel wanted Bruce Wayne by her side, it was the inner Bruce Wayne that most people never saw; not the debonair playboy or the masked vigilante. That she had doubts about a relationship with Dent because of him spoke of the profound meaning she placed on the history they shared, and hinted that her feelings for him were a deeply ingrained part of who she had become.
He realized he had been sitting there silent, grinning at her for far to long after such a declaration. She was chewing her lip again and looked mildly annoyed that her statements had elicited almost no response from him. He put a finger gently to her lips to stop their abrasion and turned the smirk into a small smile.
"I know you have to be worried about this Rachel. I know you don't want to hurt Dent and it will take a while for us to become as comfortable with each other as we once were, but soon we will have that time. Even before the Batman becomes a thing of the past, please know you can always come to me, even if I am not at the penthouse. I know Alfred would love to see you more, and I wouldn't mind having you around the place."
At this last comment insinuating that Alfred would like to see her more than he would, her eyes lit up with a mischievous glint and she responded in a mockingly innocent tone. "Well Bruce, I wouldn't want to inconvenience you or hinder your evening activities furthering international relations with any blond model you may have encountered. In fact, I hear the Swedish Beach Volleyball team is coming to…"
Her statement was cut short when his chuckling mouth closed over hers again stopping the flow of words.
This kiss was brief, and he was the one who pulled back, this time with a look of regret on his face. "Still the same mouthy brat I remember. Why councilor Dawes, do I detect a hint of jealousy in your tone?"
He leaned closer to rest his forehead on hers and whisper near her ear, his tone suddenly serious. "Please don't be jealous Rachel. The women you have seen me with, the ones they write articles about are all part of the act. They never meant anything to me. Despite appearances, I've been waiting for you and hoping you would wait for me in return."
Bruce glanced up from her face and let out a sigh. From her bedroom window he could see the first hints of light in the eastern sky. "As much as I would like to stay and continue this, dawn will be here soon and I need to be leaving. Walking around Gotham during daylight in this outfit would draw unnecessary attention."
She placed her hand on his chest as he move from the bed, stopping his movement towards the door. "Bruce, please take care of yourself, whatever may happen. It would break my heart to see you get seriously hurt or return to that man who was so full of anger. I know you are doing something that this city needs right now, but remember there are other ways you can help change Gotham's course after Batman no longer exists. You can continue the good you have started as Batman without putting on a mask and cape."
Catching her eyes with his own, Bruce gave her quick nod of response and started moving through her apartment towards the balcony. Rachel followed, pulling her bathrobe around her as she moved to grab his arm when he reached for the mask and gloves he has discarded upon entry. When he turned to her, she put a hand on either side of his face, and went up on the balls of her feet to place a bone melting kiss on his lips. As she moved away, she rubbed her nose against his and took his mask and gloves from his pliant hands. He looked at her with confusion clearly written all over his face, then a smile as she motioned for him to bend his head slightly so she could fit the cowl of the mask over his head. Bruce adjusted the mask so it latched into the body of his suit securely, then reached for the gloves Rachel offered, putting them on slowly, savoring the feel of her fingertips against his hands.
She looked at him standing proud and defiant before her as the Batman and her features rearranged into a slight scowl. He did not like forcibly reminding her of the duties and risks he had assumed as Batman in so tangible a way, but it was unavoidable. For now, it was a part of who he was.
She turned to go back to bed, but was stopped in her tracks when she heard the voice of Bruce Wayne, not the harsh growl he used as the Batman, start speaking to her.
"Rachel, remember this is only for a short time more." He let his mouth curve upwards the slight amount that was allowed by his mask. "I will make it through this, and after the Joker is captured we will talk again."
He reached for the lapels of her robe, pulling them more tightly around her body as he saw her shiver, whether from the chill in the room or from apprehension about the chaos the Joker was inflicting, he could not say. "Please lock the door behind me. I would rather not have to come back and jump off your roof again tonight."
She smiled at this thought, and said through a yawn that fought its way to the surface, "Good night Bruce and thank you." After he walked onto the balcony, she flashed him a tired smile and locked the door between them, then padded quietly back to her bed on bare feet.
As Bruce Wayne made his way back to the parapet of her balcony, he tuned for one last glimpse of Rachel as she entered her bedroom and switched off the dim light that threw a silhouette of her body across the living room floor. "No Rachel," he whispered into the cool night air. "Thank you. Thank you for being there for me when I needed it most. Thank you for helping to save me from myself."
Blinking as if emerging from a dream that lingered after waking, Bruce became the Batman again. Pulling his cape up with his arms, he jumped off the parapet and was swallowed in the darkness of a predawn Gotham. But even has he changed into the mind set of the Batman, a corner of his thoughts focused on one of his business ventures, specifically the security of his most recent real estate acquisition.
If the lock on her balcony door was an indicator of the rest of the building's security, it was long past time that improvements were made, and those upgrades would start with her apartment. Today, if he had any say in the matter.
Author's note: While watching "The Dark Knight" this week, I was struck by the potential of the missing interactions between Bruce Wayne and Rachel Dawes that were not included in the Movie and this ficlet was the result. This story was based on the plot and characterizations in the second movie, apologies in advance if it is not quite in line with the characterizations from the first Nolan film, but I have not seen it in years. None of the characters belong to me; I just borrowed them to stick my toes into the shallow end of the Bruce and Rachel pool. All errors in this story are mine and I hope they are not too egregious, this is my first attempt at writing fiction in years. I hope that a few of you will enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!