Waiting For the Miracle
A/N: Hey guys, here's chapter two. I worked really hard on this so I hope I definitely delivered. If you have any questions or comments, don't hesitate to ask. I really hope everyone likes what I'm doing with the story- I always liked the sleazy, dark trash-mance of Sin City but I definitely want some female power in here (not that I'm a left-wing or anything), and I definitely want to add in some Batman madness. Here we go!
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or anything from DC. I do own Barbara Dent.
"Are you sure you don't want me to stay here?" Harvey asked for the tenth time, leaning back in the kitchen chair. I nodded, sipping my drink. I thought it was under good circumstances to have a few vodka martinis to calm myself down after the hectic day's events.
"I'm sure. Thanks."
"No problem…" Harvey rubbed his tired face. He looked older then he actually was. For a moment we were quiet, just listening to Shima pant at Harvey's feet and the sound of the radio coming from the kitchen counter. "I have to save this city." He said lowly. He looked at me. His eyes were fierce, but exhausted. "Are you sure he didn't see you?" He asked for the hundredth time. I had revealed to Harvey that I had seen the clown take off one of his mask's and reveal an even uglier clown underneath. I could still see his terrible face in my mind, clear as crystal. I could also still see the bank manager's face slowly turn purple from lack of oxygen. My hand shook slightly as I downed the rest of my drink. Harvey sipped from his dark rum.
"I don't think he saw me." I recounted slowly. "Otherwise, I'm sure I wouldn't be sitting here." Heavy silence. Maybe I should have chosen my words a little more carefully. Harvey sighed. "I think you can do it. Help Gotham. It's going to be hard though, with the Joker running around."
"Heh. And Scarecrow. And the Riddler. And Poison Ivy. Catwoman. Batman."
"I thought Batman was a good guy?"
"He is." Harvey nodded. "He is, but vigilantism is illegal, don't forget. No one's going to complain though… until they don't need him anymore." He looked out the large windows, down at the city he swore to protect. I chewed my lower lip. "I have a duty to keep the streets clean. It's not working to well, though. I can't even keep you safe."
"Hey, don't think like that!" I protested. "Scary things happen. I've just been having some bad luck the past few months. You just started out here, don't forget that. It's going to be a slow process, you know that. Have patience. Have some faith."
"Do you have faith?" He asked. I nodded.
"In you? Definitely." I followed his gaze towards the dark city outside my window. "In humanity? Meh, not so much." We looked at each other, and started to laugh—a weird, relieved laugh that had fear tinged behind it.
Harvey left after a while. He gave me a hug, told me to get a good night's sleep, it was my first day of work tomorrow and I should try to be fifteen minutes early, to be there before orientation starts. I was nervous, excited and anxious all at the same time. I thought about making myself another drink, decided against it, and instead to quell the anxiety within me I chose my outfits for the next day. Work-out, work, evening. Harvey was taking me to a small fundraiser/charity party around six. Choosing my clothes, with everything down to an absolute tee, was a very good way to relieve stress for me. It took me about an hour, and once satisfied, I called Shima to the bed and he lay at my feet, sighing heavily.
"I feel ya." I said, crawling underneath the covers and switching off my lamp. I waited for my eyes to adjust in the darkened room, and all I could hear and see were those awful fifteen minutes from a few hours ago, where I'm pretty sure I came face to face with the Antichrist and saw a man laugh himself to death. It made me feel ill. Shima whimpered, feeling my stress.
I slept terribly. If I did sleep, I was plagued with nightmares about the Joker. Except this time, he found me. You know that terrible sense of doom you sometimes get when you know you're in a bad situation? It was like that in my dream, times a thousand. My breath felt sticky in my throat, my eyes felt like they were swollen. I could only see half of what was going on, my limbs too heavy to let me do any more then just crawl. And then a gloved hand would grab my hair and pull me back…
I woke up at five thirty, fifteen minutes before my alarm went off. I lay there, sweating. Shima woke up, sensing my distress. He walked all over me. Grunting, I pushed him off and he barked. "Shh!" I scolded. I rubbed my face. My palms were sweaty and it made my face feel greasy. In the darkness, I listened to strange sounds and slowly resurrected myself from a broken sleep. I rolled out of bed when my alarm clock went off.
I showered, brushed my teeth. I was working on auto-pilot now. My hair wrapped up in a towel, I put on the coffee and sat at the kitchen table, moving a box down from the top of it to the ground. I would pound the pavement this morning with Shima, work off some extra steam. It made me antsy when I didn't run in the morning, it felt like a very important part of my day was missed, like a balanced breakfast. My drinks from last night came back to haunt me and I popped some Tylenol, poured myself a cup of steaming joe, and got ready. I slipped into sweats and a sweater, my running shoes, put my hair back and grabbed Shima's leash, who was more then happy to oblige as I put it on his collar.
I glanced out the large windows. The sun was barely poking over the horizon yet, for the most part it was still dark. However, the sky looked clear, some stars were still struggling to twinkle in the violet and aquamarine sky. I always loved sunrise. In Metropolis, from the bachelor pad I was staying in, I had an incredible view of the river and the sun rising almost every morning. I was going to miss running on the harbor, having to exchange that river smell for car exhaust and dog piss that soaked the dirty gutters here.
It was a little cool this morning, so I was thankful I had retrieved my sweater. As I ran along the sidewalk, Shima loping gracefully beside me, I let my mind sink into autopilot once again. This was good, so even when I felt like I was going to collapse, I had enough self-control and endurance to keep going. It's all in your mind, my dad always told me. Dad always wanted me and Harvey to be best of the best—best grades, best physical strength, best looks, best everything. He pushed us, hard, and before he died of a heart aneurysm I can safely say at least one of us succeeded. I thought about the job I was starting in a few hours. It made me feel anxious so I picked up the pace, staying on the same street so I wouldn't get lost in this strange city.
There were a few early-birdies out, some jogging, some power-walking, people sluggishly driving to work, trying to wake themselves up for another long, dreary day. I felt chilly as I thought that the Joker was somewhere in this city. I wondered where he was going to strike next. I think was scared me most was the fact that the distance I had been yesterday prevented me from seeing his eyes. All I saw were sparks. It made me think of demons. I lost my momentum and gasped for breath, but regained my composure. I stopped at the Gotham National Park, a lovely park that was riddled with drug addicts and criminals by night, ordinary citizens by day. I walked around it for a bit, catching my breath, listening to the birds twitter their merry morning songs.
When I made it home, I felt way better. I freshened up, did my hair and make up, and got dressed for work, although it was only seven thirty. I started at nine, but wanted to be there by eight thirty. I sipped coffee, smoked a cigarette, and wrestled with Shima over his massive, chewed bone that was going to be gone by the time I got home. He went through those bones like butter.
I ensured I looked indeed, quite fab. I was wearing my prim black Jimmy Choos, a black pencil skirt and a sea-shell pink blouse from Jean-Paul Gautier. I realized my zebra-striped Prada handbag did not go with the outfit so that was another ten minutes of selecting a Gucci leather tote and transporting the various items from my other purse. I finished my look with one of my million decorative scarves. Satisfied, I walked into the living room, happy to see the sun streaking through the windows, illuminating the place. Last night me and Harvey had arranged all the furniture, so all I needed to do was unpack the rest of my things. Shima lay on the couch, his healthy coat glossy in the early morning sun.
Orientation was certainly a test of wills. I sat on the uncomfortable chair in the cramped trainee/staff room while a middle-aged woman went over procedures and protocal and blah blah blah. At nine, I was free to go and I was glad to be rid of the stuffy room. I went to my desk at the front lobby, and sat down, and started my computer. Hey, at least I wasn't in a cubicle, like my last job! And now I was finally somewhere where I could use my course from uni on criminal justice, even if it was just arranging appointments, court dates, times, taking phone calls, questions, directories. I expected it to be a somewhat boring, somewhat fascinating job.
However, I was more then happy to get out at five o clock, feeling that weird sense of homesickness, anxiety and excitement. I was happy my first day jitters didn't rattle me too bad. I only saw Harvey once today and he was busy talking with the GPD liuetenant Jim Gordon, a friendly man with a pencil moustache and salt & pepper hair. What they were talking about I did not know, but I assumed it was serious, considering how anxious and keen Gordon had looked.
The air outside of the Gotham DA Law office was muggy, electric, and too humid. To top it all off, there was no sun. The sky was the color of metal, just dark and low-hanging clouds. Life rolled on by me, slow, sluggish. A police car zoomed up the busy avenue, trying to weave in and out of traffic without killing anyone, sirens blaring. I slowly walked to my car, tired. Although my day had been pretty busy, my mind kept wondering back to yesterday. The way I had curled up behind a stinky janitor cart, in fear for my life. It made my heart shiver and pound in my chest. I swallowed as I got into my car, started it, and pulled into late afternoon traffic. I'm not sure I will ever look at school buses the same way again.
When I got home, I kicked off my heels and sat down on my couch, switching on the TV. I should really be unpacking still, but I just couldn't bring myself too. I permitted Shima to rest his big head on my lap, and I played with his ears. The phone rang, but I was simply too lazy to get up. Besides. Sex and the City was on and I was feeling for Miranda and her love-hate relationship with Steven. The answering machine picked up.
"Hey, it's me." Harvey. "Don't forget you have dinner with me and Rachel tomorrow night. Don't. Be. Late! It took me forever to get reservations in there, I had to tell them I worked for the government! Call me back, tell me how your first day went. Love you, bye." I sighed and lit a cigarette. I inhaled hard on it, and let the smoke curl out through my nose. Closing my eyes, I tried to wipe my buzzing head free from thoughts. However, my mind kept going back to yesterday. The clown fascinated me. He was gross, greasy and obviously very crazy. And that bank manager, who laughed himself to death! What kind of a fiend would make such a gas? It was like the opposite of the Scarecrow's famed fear serum. Honestly, I'm not sure which one I'd rather die from. Neither would be preferable.
I watched the news, made a drink, and spent the rest of my evening unpacking. I hit the sheets early, too, and slept like the dead, unplagued with nightmares.
Work was the same as Monday. Busy. Cops, lawyers, attorney's, and other legal executives swarmed the place. It was crawling with law-enforcement. Prisoners were taken to criminal court downstairs, civil court upstairs. Jim Gordon from major crimes unit was there again, and I offered him a friendly hello. I liked him. He was a kind, sweet guy, looked too gentle for his demanding job.
"Hello, Barbara." He greeted, pausing to chat. It was around eleven thirty and I was excited for lunch. "How are you?"
"Not bad! How about you?" I asked. I was pretty bubbly today, hopped up on caffiene and sugar. I had a sudden urge for kit-kat bars earlier and had munched out on them this morning.
"Ah, been better." He chuckled. "You have some chocolate in your teeth." I gasped in horror and stopped smiling. "Is Mr Dent available today?" He looked down at my receptionist plaque and his brow raised. "Your last name is Dent, too?"
"Yes. I'm his little sister. He got me a job here." Gordon nodded, pleasantly. I looked through Harvey's appointment log. "He is free after two thirty, would you like me to make an appointment?"
"That was a good thing for him to do. And yes, please."
"Okay!" I enthusiastically wrote it down, trying not to show how embarassed I was for having food in my teeth. God, I had been smiling and saying hello to
everyone today, and my teeth were probably dark brown! I was totally mortified and when Gordon left I dug out my compact from my purse and used a tissue to wipe off the accused chocolate. Fuck, I wasn't going to be able to smile again for the rest of the day!
Five o clock rolled around- time for dinner with the famous Rachel Dawes and Harvey. I had two hours to get ready, which was not enough time. I hurried home, played with Shima for five minutes, checked my answering machine, and then got ready. Finally, I had an excuse to wear my Michael Kors white cut-out cocktail dress. And my new heels went with them great! I applied a few accessories, tortured my hair to make it straight, and then grabbed my clutch and car keys. Time to rock 'n' roll. The events of the other day had barely effected me today, I was happy to see, and I even found myself humming a tune as I walked out of the apartment complex and towards my car, hopping in.
The restaurant was perhaps my finest dream. I couldn't imagine dining with such granduer, such splendor. The clientele at Jean & Walter's, who were posh, looked like street people compared to these CEO executives. Everyone was elegant, intelligent, cultured, in amazing clothes. The women were shockingly attractive. These were the Beautiful People.
I saw Harvey sitting with a super pretty lady, and I walked over. "Hey!" I said as I approached, and gave Harvey a hug as he got up. I hadn't really gotten to talk to him or see him since he last came over, and I was happy to see him. "I'm on time, right?" Harvey laughed and I sat down and turned to the olive-skinned woman.
"Rachel, meet my sister, Barbara." I shook her hand. "She's the Assistant District Attorney."
"Really?" come to think of it, I did remember seeing her walking around at the office- she always had her hair up, though. "It's great to meet you, Harvey won't shut up about you!" Harvey and Rachel blushed and I ordered a vodka martini from the waiter and took a menu.
We talked, and I found myself really liking Rachel, as I gave her my, what mom liked to call it, "The Manhattan Onceover". I always did this when meeting someone new- half the time I didn't even realize I was doing it. I'll check you up and down, trying to confirm if you were a threat or not. I definately approved of Rachel, who was classy, smart and witty. Kind of like how I wanted to be.
We were interrupted.
"Rachel. Fancy seeing you here!" A tall, handsome man approached with a gorgeous blonde woman on her arm.
"Bruce. Fancy that." Rachel smiled. She looked to the lady. "Are you...?"
"Gabriel Hoffman. From the Russian ballet." The guy replied. "Let's move some tables together, shall we?"
I eventually got introduced. I realized I was sitting across from the Bruce Wayne, billionaire playgirl extraordinaire. To my surprise, he was a smart, humble, decent guy, besides the arrogant prick I immediately pictured him as.
"You two are siblings? You look nothing alike." Bruce noted. I leaned my head next to Harvey's, looking at him quizzically. "There we go. It's the cheekbones." We laughed and I sat back again.
And the night went on. I actually had a lot of fun, and had shyly expressed my love for Hoffman's work, whom I had seen in Metropolis twice. While the men discussed law and politics with Rachel, I was able to reveal some awesome secrets for styling my hair and in exchange I learned where to find the best boutiques and tailors in Gotham City. It was, all in all, an excellent evening, and I had managed to be on the ball enough tonight to always have a classy, intelligent answer, because everything had to be perfect.
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