-1ASHES OF THE RAVEN

By

Egypt and Wallaby

Chapter 4

Bruce stared at her for just a second, recovering his temper and leveling his voice. "I want people who work for me, who give there all so that I can do what little I can to make all my wants a reality, to be able to trust me, and to be properly rewarded for all that they do."

He swallowed, then continued, "I want you not to be afraid of me, and to trust me. I want you to be okay."

He chuckled to himself then, feeling her softness against him for the first time. Finally, his voice had returned to normal, his face no longer a mask of hatred and disgust. "No, I don't always get what I want. Do you?"

Even as anger filled him and he raged at her she was comforted by his closeness, his warmth. She showed no fear in response to his outburst, only a curiosity that flashed through her eyes. Why would someone who ran a multi-billion dollar company care so much about an asylum for the criminally insane? She knew that he had created the asylum, she also knew that he took a great interest in making sure that security was tight and that the help that the prisoners got was the best there was. Common sense told her that was all it was, but her gut told her it was something more.

He worried about the people in his community, the fear that they lived with day in and day out. No millionaire worried about anyone but themselves. That was how it was, so what made Bruce so different? What made him worry so much about the world around him. Why did she suddenly get the feeling that he was more than what he appeared to be?

His comment about his parents made her flinch, her face softening and the mask of indifference fell away. Sorrow filled her eyes, pain etching her face for several seconds before it slipped away, dropping from her features as if she had simply shaken it off. It was not gone though, it would never be gone. It had been there all her life and would be until the day she died. That was how she survived, by keeping the pain and anger deep inside and using it for strength. Never had she seen it used as Bruce had just used it. To her, pain was a tool to remind you what the worst was, to remind her that she was still alive. Not...

Her thoughts trailed off as his next words reached her. 'I want you to be ok.' Surprise slipped across her face, her eyes suddenly meeting and searching his. She saw no deception in them, no desire, just honesty and gentleness. Why? No one cared about her. They used her and then tossed her aside, or they would if she let them. She never let them, never allowed anyone to get close, never gave them her back. She suddenly realized that she had done just that tonight. Since the moment she had met Bruce outside she had given him her back, given him a prime opportunity to strike at her. So why was she still standing?

His last question pulled her from her thoughts, refocusing her attention on him, on those rich brown pools that even after all that outrage still sparkled with a sense of caring and gentleness. It shocked her that one who had held so much anger and hatred just a moment before could let it go so easily. Oh how she envied him that.

"Never." she said softly, before she even realized what she was saying. "What I want has become irrelevant."

She should have backed away from him, should have put distance between them but her body just wouldn't move. At that moment all she could think of was his closeness, his warmth, and what it would feel like if he ran his fingers through her hair.

Shock at her words was visible in his eyes, but only to those carefully watching. From a distance, one would have noticed nothing of his initial reaction. His head tilted slightly to the side as he looked at her. His hand rose, and he realized he had meant to caress her cheek. It was not, however, an appropriate response for what he knew of her. Instead, he brushed a few strands of hair from her face, his eyes going to study the skin of her cheek as he did.

She wore no make-up, or very little. He had known that from their first meeting. He hadn't realized how smooth and perfect her skin was, or the lines around her eyes that she couldn't hide. Lines that showed pain and determination. Her eyes were beautiful, a brown deep enough to drown in if you let yourself. Her scent was light, clean, with the barest hint of an herb, leaving her own scent just noticeable underneath. There was an absolutely beautiful woman standing before him, and someone had done something horrible to her. He didn't know what, or when, but it hadn't been recently. She'd lived with it for a long time.

"It may have been irrelevant, but that changes now. I don't know what happened to you, I just know it was bad. You don't have to tell me until you're ready, if you ever are. Whatever it was, whatever has been haunting you, you matter. You are important. You are a vital, beautiful young lady. You are very talented and worthy of respect, admiration, and love. Whatever it takes to give you back who you are, it starts now. Maybe not who you were; maybe that person is gone. I don't know. But who you are matters. To me, and it should matter to you."

The touch comforted her, but it was not enough. She wanted more, wanted to feel his fingers caress her scalp, to feel...

She stopped herself before her thoughts went further, suddenly realizing that she was too close to him. She stepped backwards, hesitation in her step as she put distance between them. His words were ones she had not heard before, ones that were backed up by the sincerity and gentleness in his eyes. She wasn't sure what scared her most, the fact that he meant what he said or the fact that she believed him.

"You wouldn't like who I am." She whispered, suddenly dropping her eyes and stepping past him to start up the next flight of stairs. "I'm a monster."

She didn't turn around, didn't look at him again. His words had opened some deep wounds, ones that she had sown shut years ago. Now the stitches had popped, leaving the fear anger and pain to seep out. It would take hours of meditation to put it all back, and even then she was not sure that she could. It hurt, but she knew he did not do it on purpose.

She stopped on the next landing but didn't turn around. Her voice was soft and low as she spoke, her tone almost that of a frightened child.

"Thank you for coming. I know your busy, but thank you for taking the time."

The sentence had barely left her mouth when she began moving again, making her way up the stairs towards her floor.

Bruce's brow knitted in confusion at her declaration to be a monster. Bruce knew monsters. He hunted them, tracked them. He had become one of them in an effort to frighten them back into the holes they'd crawled out of. Sometimes it even worked. Everything he knew about her spoke of an almost brutal efficiency, a fierce ability to see things through and make sure they were right. None of that equated to her being a monster. However, a monster is culturally defined. One man's monster was another's savior.

Bruce shook his head. This was no time to debate the philosophies of what monstrous was. Nothing she had done fit his definition of monstrous, and she'd had precious little time to be doing very much that he wouldn't have become aware of. She either believed what she said, which he had a hard time believing, or she sought to make him believe she did, a possibility he believed even less.

Her words on the landing focused his attention squarely back on her, and galvanized him to action. It was true that she didn't really owe his anything, but he felt he owed her, instead. He followed her up the stairs, taking them two and three at a time until he caught her. He knew better than to lay a hand on her. Apart from social considerations, it would give her a tremendous advantage over him tactically. He thought it odd he had that thought, but he knew better than to question his instincts.

"I'm not that busy." He answered. Despite running up the stairs, he was not at all winded. "You are a large reason for that, so it is fitting I spend that time with you."

He maneuvered himself in front of her, not baring her way, but ensuring she would have to go around him to continue. "Why do you think you are a monster? What could you have done that would ever make you believe that?"

Bruce cringed at his own words, though he kept his tone level. He knew better than to ask those words, and he almost regretted it as soon as he did. If his face showed anything besides a deep abiding care, it was worry. If it was for her, though, or for what she might say, was up to her to figure out.

She knew why she thought of herself as a monster. It was because she was a killer, an assassin of the highest caliber. She had hundreds of kills under her belt, but that was not what made her a monster. What made her a monster was the fact that she was proud of every single kill, not regretting a single one. That was what made her so monstrous.

She couldn't tell him that though, she could never tell him that. She wondered why. Yes, secrecy was a part of the job but she knew that wasn't the whole reason. She met his gaze as she tried to find the reason, searching her own mind as she searched his gaze. When she found that reason her eyes widened slightly and her heart thundered in her chest. The answer was in his eyes, those uncertain brown pools that stared into her own. She didn't want to see those eyes looking at her in fear. Just the idea of it scared her, made her want to pack up everything and run. Why? He was her target, her victim. A Viper never ran from it's prey.

She pulled her gaze from his, looking down at her hands as she formulated an answer. Not truth, but not lies either.

"I am ruthless." She was trying to convince herself, and even so her voice sounded stronger than she felt at the moment. "Would do anything to accomplish a goal that is not even mine. I have no purpose, save to serve others..."

She trailed off, realizing she had said too much. The words were what she told herself every morning while looking in the mirror, but recently they had been filled with less and less conviction. She was loosing herself in the character she was playing, and she suddenly realized that if she began to drown there would be no one there to pull her out. Those who waited on the shore waited with guns and knives...

She heaved a sigh and shook her head, taking a step to the right in an attempt to get past him. She didn't want to talk anymore. It made her think...and those thoughts scared the hell out of her.

Bruce wanted to tell her that ruthless did not have to be a bad thing, but the word made him think of Lex Luthor. He let that go. There was a fine line between acceptable and problematic with "ruthless."

He took a step back, matching her forward progress. He wasn't letting her go with talk like that. He had seen suicide notes cheerier than that.

"What do you mean you don't have a purpose? I don't mean what you do for me. That's a job, a career if you want it to be, but not a life's purpose."

His mind was racing. What she'd said about "serving others," and how she had said it, didn't sound right. Who was she serving now? Him, in a way, but he didn't think so. Her resume was impeccable, but not one of servitude. It was one of remarkable drive and dedication, definitely of someone working toward something. That was what had initially grabbed his attention about her.

"Who are you serving now, and who did you serve a year ago? You're not a person without goals, Mamushi. That is obvious to anyone who has met you. You're one of the most driven people I know. What goals are you trying to accomplish that aren't your own?"

She shook her head. She should not have said anything. Why had she said what she had? Better question, how did she get out of this without telling him the truth? Simple answer...lie.

"My goal right now is to keep your company in your hands," she said simply, turning slightly angry eyes on him, "And it seems at times that I am the only one who cares about that particular goal."

This was where avoidance came in.

"Have you seen the video of the meeting this morning yet?" She asked, but then didn't give him a chance to answer. "The men who are share holders in your company almost lost that company for you this afternoon. The Genutek proposal was the beginning of a hostile take over. With the way it was written there was no benefit for Wayne industries from the merger, but no one in that room knew that. No one in that room took the time to pay attention to the wording of the proposal. I bet you missed it too."

It was not a challenge, simply an observation. He had been too 'busy', so had everyone else. Still, her point was not to accuse him of being lax, it was to get his mind off of his questions.

Bruce's gaze became wary, but he decided to follow where she led.

"I saw the video, and I read the proposal. Jenkins won't forget your little barb, by the way. I think I'll have his office repainted tomorrow, if you could suggest a color. I think I'd rather let him know that I have my eye on him before he gets any ideas."

He gave her a curt nod and just the hint of a smile before continuing. "I trusted that you would read it as I did, and I was not disappointed. However, had the proposal passed, our next move would have been to acquire Genutek itself. Lucious was already tracking down the majority of shares of the company and drawing up plans for securing a fifty-one percent share of the stock. It would have been a costly proposition, but it would have saved us from the losses of the one you so deftly defeated. You made the right decision. Thank you."

He looked in her eyes for just a brief moment, trying to read her response to the fact that he did, in fact, know what was going on in his company.

"The next step is to try and renegotiate a proposal with them. Failing that, we go ahead with the buy-out. They have some ideas that can help us, and I won't let their greed stand in the way of progress.

"I'm sorry you sometimes feel I am out of touch. It is an unfortunate side-effect to my trust in your abilities. Without your presence, the meeting would have been cancelled, and we would have to start over with them from scratch. You saved us valuable time, and taught a valuable lesson to the men in that room that I would not have been able to. They would have expected me to know the answers, or at least to have already made a decision, and more than likely they would have backed whatever I said. They had very different assumptions about you. Hopefully, you not only helped them see their assumptions about you were wrong, but that they need to be more attentive to their own business. Not many of them like to be embarrassed. Maybe you got through to some of them. "

Bruce sighed, shaking his head slightly. "I'm sorry. That makes it sound like you are being used as a pawn, and that is not at all what is happening. You were there because you are capable of doing what needed to be done, because you are a talented and brilliant executive. Everything else was fall-out."

Bruce steepled his hands and pressed his fingers into his chin, his gaze going deep into her eyes. "Hopefully, that assures you that you are not the only Keeper of the Gate at Wayne Enterprises."

He wasn't sure how best to go forward with this; he decided a direct approach might work. "However well you may have changed the subject, the question still stands. Who are you working for now, and whom were you working for a year ago? You are putting a lot of effort into avoiding these questions. That makes me curious. You are far too driven and far too efficient to allow these matters to take up all of your life. What are you not telling me?"