Chapter 2: The Dark Knight
Bruce Wayne sat slumped in an easy chair in front of an over-large fireplace. The flames crackled and popped as it warmed the multi-millionaire right down to his toes. But that also could have been the whiskey he was drinking by the bottle. At 38,000 dollars a pop it was the best whiskey available. To the rest of the world the 60-year old Macallan Whiskey was sold out, but Bruce Wayne wasn't the rest of the world and the usual restrictions placed on the general public simply didn't apply to him. At this moment Bruce wasn't thinking about how much the whiskey he was drinking cost. The only thing on his mind was the Joker. He simply couldn't believe that the clown had escaped from Arkham; even if he did have the help of one of the nurses it still shouldn't have been possible.
As he took another sip of whiskey he heard the main door of Wayne Manor being opened and the voice of Alfred as he welcomed the visitor. "Why, hello Miss Hartford, so good to see you again. Bruce is in the main living room drinking the night away. Good thing you're here….he could use some good cheering up."
Bruce heard the dainty footsteps echoing down the hall towards him, but still refused to sit up. At this point he simply didn't care about anything. Rachel's killer was back on the streets and it was all he could do not to jump off the nearest building without his suit. He was so preoccupied wallowing in his own despair and misery that he was startled when two slender arms snaked around his neck even though he should have seen it coming. His body jerked in his chair and his fingers released their hold on the whiskey bottle. The arms disappeared and he could hear the sound of heels clicking against the hardwood floor.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Such an awful waste of good drink." The words came from a tall, redheaded woman dressed in a short black leather overcoat appeared in front of him that had walked around from behind the easy chair Bruce was sitting in to stand in front of him. His gaze briefly flitted to her face before returning to the task of studying the floor. "Leave me alone Gwen." He said, as he massaged his now aching temples.
Gwendolyn Hartford knelt, careful to avoid the broken glass and spilled liquid, and softly placed a hand under his chin so that he was forced to look at her. "Bruce darling, I know the Joker's escape from Arkham has been hard for you to take. It brings back old, painful memories. I understand pain. We can get through this together." She stroked his cheek as she spoke.
"You know nothing of pain." Bruce growled out words and slapped Gwen's hand away. He stood up and his legs carried him over to the hearth where he leaned against the mantle and stared down into the flickering, orange ribbons. Gwen frowned and straightened up. Bruce could heard the click-clack of her heels against the hardwood as she followed his whiskey soaked footsteps to where he was standing in front of the fireplace. She kissed his bare arm and drew circles on his chest. "Come to bed with me darling and forget about all this." She said, kissing him again but on his lips this time, harder and more passionate.
Bruce immediately stiffened. "I will never forget." He hissed.
Ignoring this statement Gwen's fingers slowly crept to the zipper on Bruce's designer jeans. The muffled sound of a zipper being undone was heard and Gwen's small hand slid into the small opening. Gently, she squeezed his flaccid penis and felt it come alive in her hand. Bruce never had been one to have trouble 'getting it up' after drinking heavily. With difficulty Bruce pulled away and turned around to face her. His eyes smoldered with unchecked desire and Gwen felt as if he could see all the way into her soul. His hand grabbed hold of her hips and roughly he pulled her up against him. His lips crashed down on to hers and Gwen reached up her hands to cradle the back of his head. His tongue explored the inside of her mouth and she could taste the whiskey he'd been drinking. She nipped his lip with her teeth and chuckled when she heard a low groan echo from deep in his chest.
Bruce broke the kiss and simply stared at her while she licked the taste of him off her lips. She flicks her eyes upwards. "Shall we move this party upstairs then?" She asked while she stroked the back of his head. He didn't even bother answering her before sweeping her off her feet and into his arms. Gwen tightened her grip around his neck and felt his lips brush against her forehead as he carried her up the stairs to his bedroom. No words were necessary at this point.
Gently he laid her down on the silken sheets of his bed and climbed up after her. It was only a matter of minutes before both of their clothes fell to the floor, forgotten in their passion. Bruce squeezed her breasts as he sucked on the skin at her neck, leaving a bruise that would last several days. As he plunged his rigid cock inside her Gwen's nails bit into the skin of his back and she gasped. He thrusted hard and fast and Gwen couldn't help but arch her back and grind her hips against his as she struggled to bring him deeper inside her. They both came together with moans and screams of pleasure before collapsing with exhaustion onto the silken sheets of Bruce's bed. Bruce fell asleep almost immediately afterwards but Gwen remained awake for at least an hour. She was exhausted, every day she had to deal with the Joker and Bruce was a trial. However, there was simply too much going on in her brain for her to be able to fall asleep. So, for an hour or two she remained awake with Bruce's head on her chest and thought about the mess that she had gotten herself into.