Thanks again to all of you who have reviewed – I'm sorry that it was so short. It looks like I'm going to be writing this one as yet another multi-chaptered story and then eventually working my way through some of my other drabbles. We'll see!

I'm going with all Rent songs for this story. If you haven't heard them, you should!


Chapter 2: RENT

"How do you leave the past behind/When it keeps finding ways to get to your heart" - Rent

He'd never considered himself a nervous man, never found his palms shaking as he walked into a crowded room of people or broken into a sweat when he encountered a villain that seemed to have the upper edge on him.

He was cool and calm in the face of danger, utterly collected and ready for whatever faced him no matter the situation or scenario. He'd been training for years in order to expect the unexpected and deal with it in a calm and rational manner, to find logic in everything and examine it all twice before coming to a conclusive result.

And yet, as he stared down at his hands, watching as the water from the shower ran in rivulets down from the tips of his fingers, he could see a barely imperceptible shake, just the slightest of quivers that told him that nothing she'd ever done could have prepared him for tonight, for this, his first date with a Princess known as Diana.

She was in many ways grace incarnate – a lovely figure that made most men, himself included, want to stop in their tracks and howl, to beg for mercy until she finally granted them the nearness of her presence. And yet, she was so much more than a pretty face, as he'd come to discover during their time together in the League.

She was intelligent, with a knowledge rarely found nowadays and most particularly in the women with whom he kept company – the vapid socialites and the haughty heiresses who had more hair than wit. Diana had studied the classics of Greek literature and these days she was, at least to him, trying to devour every modern novel available as well – everything from Shakespeare to Jane Austen to Faulkner and Tolstoy.

Diana was someone who wanted to learn more about the world and he enjoyed the way that she went about it. She was occasionally abrasive, but that was a trait that he'd come to appreciate, mainly since it was one that he was afflicted with as well. She didn't suffer fools lightly and refuses to be seen only as "eye candy" rather than the vibrant and charming woman that she was.

He reached out blindly in front of him, turning off the water before clenching his fists, refusing to let any sign of nerves show. It simply wasn't in him to allow a weakness, even for a woman such as Diana. A part of him still wondered about how this night had come about and worried that he would start something with her that he wouldn't be able to finish or truly appreciate.

Both Bruce Wayne and Batman were men blessed with little time and, being both men, it was nearly impossible to try and squeeze anything else into his incredibly busy schedule. And yet, tonight, he had done just that, reworking his appointments and pushing back his patrol in order to let Diana into his life, even if just for this one evening.

Reaching out, he wrapped a towel around himself as he allowed his thoughts to continue, as he strained to control his hands and his heart, as he sought to find the piece of him that gave him such dominance over his body and its actions. Taking a few deep breaths, he closed his eyes, leaning forward and letting his elbows rest on the white marble of the sink, refusing to look into the mirror and see the haunted look in his eyes.

He wasn't entirely sure what he wanted. A part of him called out for him to get a life, to find a little bit of happiness and to revel in what lay between himself and Diana while the other part of him worried incessantly and jabbed at him, telling him that he wasn't worthy, that he wasn't ready, and that there simply wasn't time.

Mostly, both parts were right. He wanted to please both parts of himself – to lead the life that he'd been born to lead that fateful night of his parents' deaths and also to give more to their memory than simply being a vigilante trying to stop crime in a city that often seemed riddled with it. There were nights when he came home bloody and bruised, wishing that just once someone other than Alfred were there to greet him.

Someone with a smile and a concerned look. Someone who understand that his life wasn't always his own. Someone who knew about the duality of his life and accepted it without total compromise and reciminations.

Someone like…

Shaking his head, he opened to eyes to see Alfred silently enter the bedroom and stop in the doorframe of the master bathroom.

"Are you alright, Master Bruce?"

But Bruce couldn't answer, couldn't do anything more than look down at the hands that were still shaking and wonder why so many conflicted and torturous thoughts were rolling through his mind at that precise moment.

He wanted to be happy.

He wanted to be Batman.

"Master Bruce," Alfred began somewhat hesitatingly, "I would never seek to give you my opinion, particularly since I know that usually it is ignored and discarded, but I feel that I need to speak my mind."

The older man paused and Bruce looked up from his quivering hands and into the face that had been so dear a part of his life for so long. No one had been there for him more than Alfred and there were no words to express his gratitude and the overwhelming feelings that flooded him when he thought of all that Alfred had done for him and been for him.

He wasn't a man to express his emotions, but somehow, he knew that Alfred knew of his importance. And yes, Alfred was correct, often Bruce would simply ignore his advice, but in some way, he felt that even at his age, it was a form of teenage rebellion, of trying to break free from those who loved him and test the limits of their connection.

"You deserve some happiness in your life, Master Bruce, whether it is a child bouncing on your knee-"

"Your knee, you mean," Bruce interrupted him with a slight smile, knowing of Alfred's desire to see Bruce happily married and producing Wayne heirs at will.

Alfred tilted his head in the affirmative before continuing. "It could be part of your happiness as well, but there are simpler things as well. For instance, a night out on the town with a pretty woman, one who isn't after your money or wants to be seen with Bruce Wayne, can do wonders to revive the spirits."

"You need revival, Master Bruce, and you need happiness. Do not discard these things, no matter how unimportant you might consider them."

"Alfred…" Bruce began, unsure of how to word his feelings properly, to explain the nervous and the tangled emotions that were running through him. He wanted to be happy, certainly, a part of him did. But he also wanted to finish what he had started by becoming the Batman – to preserve and protect Gotham and eradicate crime from within its limits.

And in an unprecedented step, the butler laid a hand on Bruce's shoulder, before saying, "Bruce, you have the capacity for greatness and to do much for the city of Gotham, but you cannot put aside yourself in order to make that happen. If you forsake that which makes you human, then you are nothing more than a heartless robot that simply exists, without love and joy and the things that truly make it worth living and experiencing."

Two sets of blue eyes met and Alfred let his lips rise in the smallest of smiles. "You're a man unlike many others, Master Bruce, and she is a woman like no other. Remember that tonight and listen to this," he added, gently patting the skin above Bruce's heart.

Throwing his shoulders back, the butler looked at Bruce with a raised eyebrow before walking back into the bedroom to select proper evening attire for his master, the man that he had had a hand in raising for so many years now. He was more than butler – he was father and mother, friend and co-conspirator all wrapped together in one English package.

"Now, Master Bruce, the princess will be arriving shortly, so I suggest that you make yourself a tad bit more presentable. I will be back in a few minutes in order to correctly tie your tie, since I know that you seem completely unable to handle that minor task by yourself."

Bruce stood, looking after the older man with a bemused look before a soft smile graced his face and lit his eyes, transforming him into a man with a lightened heart whose burden had been lifted. And, striding into the bedroom, he hurried to obey Alfred and get ready for his evening with Diana.


Comments, questions, criticism appreciated. Thanks again to all of you who reviewed!