Summary: *Bruce/Rachel/Harvey* Only with her would Bruce allow himself to lose control in the way he so desperately wanted to. Only together can Rachel no longer deny what she really needs. Rated M for sexual references.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

*

Through the storm we reach the shore
You give it all but I want more
And I'm waiting for you

With or without you
With or without you
I can't live
With or without you

"Looking for something?"

Straightening with a start from her original position tearing apart the sheets, Rachel felt her face flush with embarrassment despite her indignation. Since entering his personal quarters several minutes ago, she had felt eyes trailing her movements without a sound. But on his own highly guarded property, which she had intruded upon in a most compromising position, he was more than justified. Releasing an anxious breath, Rachel knew she was lucky to be being violated only by his eyes in such a high security estate.

"Bruce, so kind of you to announce your presence' She responded without missing a beat. Her heart pounded rapidly as she levelled his gaze, uncomfortably short of breath as his depthless brown eyes regarded her with detached indifference.

'I could ask you the same courtesy' The Prince of Gotham said smoothly, eyes unashamedly roaming her person. The dark grey business suit outlined his muscled figure, the no doubt infinitely expensive material accentuating his strong frame admiringly.

'Alfred let me in. And you startled me!' Rachel shot back fiercely, folding her arms with a stubbornness that somehow remained elegant, a challenging smile on her full lips, 'I wasn't expecting the caped crusader to have turned in so early. Entertaining one of your whores again?'

Bruce lingered before answering, silent acknowledging the brilliance of the sheer gown Rachel was wearing. The fitted material curved to her sashaying hips as though she was wearing nothing at all, teasingly covered with a black trench coat and scarlet heels that made him wince with each appreciative clatter on the marbled floor.

'And how ironic that you appear' Bruce teased lightly, and for his efforts was graced with a conceding smile that softened the blow, 'You left this last time.'

The pink bra flashed garishly against the rough of his hands, cheapened by his dirty smile as Rachel's shock quickly turned to fury.

'You really should label your things so Alfred knows where to send them to in the morning' Bruce baited, begging her to reclaim her possession.

The mention of their childhood mentor enraged Rachel even further. She stormed up to Bruce, boldly reclaiming the shred of her pride he unwillingly relinquished with a deft snatch. Rachel raised her chin to him defiantly, immediately enchanted by the smouldering intensity reflected back at her.

'How kind of you to keep it close to your heart.' She hissed in annoyance.

The thought entertained Rachel for a fleeting second. Bruce's broad shoulder physique and handsome features meant he would never have needed the solitary stimulation. Delusional she wasn't, but Rachel would rather die than acknowledge his godliness.

'Speaking of things close to your heart... how is Dent?' Bruce inquired drolly, eyes devouring her frame hungrily as she sauntered over to his bed and stretched upon it with a languid sigh, 'Still coming up short in the D.A's office?'

Dent remained a sore spot between them, an open wound she jealously guarded. Her defensiveness of him got under Bruce's skin more than he cared to admit.

'Harvey is divine' Rachel sighed breathily, the pleasurable noise returning the composed Bruce Wayne to the infuriating little boy she had once known, 'And he's more than equipped for the position, locking up half the criminal population of Gotham'

Bruce's presence stealthily drawing nearer her created a dangerous atmosphere, electric and exciting that pulsed through Rachel with undeniable force. The contained tension within his stoic stance was evident only to her conditioned eyes, but whether he provoking comments were the source she couldn't guess. Whilst her face was a coloured palate of expression, Bruce's true agenda remained hidden beneath a mask of self-confidence. Rachel wondered why she was still here, playing out a scene that produced the same ending a thousand times over.

'At least someone still believes in Harvey Dent because with a campaign slogan like that, I don't know who the man thinks he's fooling' Bruce growled, restlessly seating himself beside her.

The slap connected with a satisfying crack, rendering Bruce indefinitely mute in disbelief.

'Harvey Dent is a good man, you arrogant bastard! In fact, he is the only honourable man in this city with enough balls to stand up for what is right'

'Then what the fuck do you think I'm doing, Rachel?' Bruce roared aggressively in scolded disbelief, 'Do you think I enjoy being ridiculed and hunted by this whole damn city?'

'Bruce, the flattery suits you.' Rachel deadpanned, bruising his ego before continuing passionately, 'Harvey is someone that people can relate to and respect. He isn't masquerading in the shadows! He gives the people of Gotham the public face they want and need in a hero. I don't see Batman running for President.'

'And what do you need, Rachel?"

"Certainly not saving" Rachel spat, her breath hitching in her throat as their eyes met across the divide.

'You want me to put on the Bat mask again?' Bruce smirked huskily, aware of his growing arousal as her dress slid up to just beneath her hips.

'I think I've proved I don't need you' Rachel whispered with conviction, leaning dangerously close. In an almost insane delirium, Bruce smelt the sharp sweetness of her perfume, the rapidness of their combined hearts beating erratically chest to chest.

'Then why are you still here?' Bruce struggled to manage before the earth gave way underneath them.

Their mouths contested each other, tongues sparring in a tousling battle for dominance mimicked by their restless bodies. Desperate hands clung to shoulders and hair. Rachel's arms wrap possessively around Bruce's neck, drinking him in as he stroked the length of her stomach and hips.

Clothes were torn and flung without remorse, Rachel barely able to get her heels off before Bruce ripped her stockings from her body. Rachel moaned in ecstasy as expert hands lavished her, where such experience might have been gained a world away. The lithe curves of her body were attended to with aggressive bites of appreciation as she dug her hands into the hardened muscles of his back to reciprocate the intense feeling flooding her conscience.

Bruce's body instinctively took over, allowing him to relish the longing clawing down his spine and the yearning calls of the lover he had so patiently waited for.

Every movement wasted with another woman and every night spent alone with only a memory of her was all spread before him, a conquest begging to be taken. Only with her would he allow himself to lose control in the way he so desperately wanted to, the pressures of his external life trapped beyond the glass windows, lashing furiously with the jagged lightning scarring the black night sky.

Rachel's thrashing hips locked firmly around his waist, dragging him closer to her in a desperate plea, wanting to be relieved of the intense pressure building up inside her and yet never wanting to be released, such was the hold they had over each other. But seven years of martial arts training had taught Bruce patience was a virtue.

Lifting her slight body from the bed in one powerful and secure motion, Rachel's protests were quickly interrupted by a shocked gasp as her bare back made contact with the manor wall. Waves of pleasure exploded through both their bodies as they combined. Rolling hips rhythmically pounded against her arching frame, powerful thrusts that reduced her to despair, riding him harder than he could take.

Even in sex, Bruce Wayne was precise, self-inflicting and devastating with the slightest groans stifling his difficulty remaining in control. But it wasn't the disciplinarian technique Rachel had missed, but the intense passion in which he took her, striking her hard but as equal and worthy.

Sweat intermingled with their heightening cries as they drove each other to exhaustion. The final decisive blow, ball up fists against the wall and nails scarring his taught back finished them both in simultaneous relief. He came like thunder, and she responded with her own explosive cries, experiencing Bruce Wayne vulnerable and fulfilled for a few precious second.

Returning to the shelter of the bed, Bruce and Rachel became aware of the pouring rain. She wrapped her broken body to his chest, massaging the tension rippling like static through his broad shoulders compassionate as he remained restlessly upright.

A world away from reality, Rachel wondered her fantasy allowed.

'Maybe with Harvey Dent around, Gotham won't need Batman anymore.'

A sudden coldness descended upon her as Bruce Wayne regarded her with eyes that bled burdening wisdom and silent betrayal.

'And until then, you promised to wait'.

Before Rachel could summon the words to reverse what could not be undone, Bruce had left with the shadows obediently stealing him from view. Pulling the scattered pieces of herself strewn about the room together, Rachel was left to wonder with an overpowering sadness how long it would be before this game could end, and whether they would be if that day ever came.