Disclaimer: I own no part of the Batman franchise; all characters and ideas belong to someone else (except Molly is kinda sorta mine, pretty much) and I make no profit from this fiction!
The talk about the foundation went well on the drive to the school. Molly was open to all of Bruce's suggestions and he, likewise, was open to hers. He wasn't about to block her expertise out of the project as a whole just because she'd been put in charge of the new mentoring program. Which she technically still wasn't aware of…he supposed he'd have to tell her soon enough, but he was a little worried she wouldn't have time to be the head of a committee. She was already so busy. Then again, she was right about him, though for the wrong reasons- he didn't really have time to be taking care of her the way he was right now. Batman had a gang to take out and Bruce had numerous responsibilities, despite his hands off policy.
Which was why he'd taken the liberty of making a few phone calls of his own before she'd gotten up that morning. So when she stepped out of his vehicle in front of the school building only to be instantly escorted by a large and solemn body guard, she let out a shriek and immediately got back into the car. Bruce had just unbuckled his belt and was opening the driver's door when she shut her own and he glanced at her strangely.
"What's the matter?"
She glared at him. "Don't play innocent with me, Bruce Wayne. What is a bodyguard doing here? I thought we were playing it like I didn't see anything last night!"
He raised his eyebrows and gave a short smile. "We are. But do you think I'd let a girlfriend who works around kids who carry guns walk about unaccompanied? Especially when a colleague of hers was just shot?"
She closed her eyes and counted to ten. Bruce refrained from laughing; he could almost see the steam rolling out her ears. She finally turned towards him again and eyed his hand on the car door. "And what do you think you're doing? You're only supposed to drop me off."
"Well, if we're going public with our relationship, we may as well make it convincing. Did you think I wouldn't see my girlfriend to her job under such circumstances?"
"Bruce, this is never going to work. No one will ever believe that you and I are dating-"
He rolled the windows down and she stopped mid sentence. "What are you doing now?"
He reached over and pulled her in to him. "Making people believe," he said smugly before he kissed her hard on the lips.
Molly gave a small cry of protest that was swallowed by his mouth and the sounds of the street around them died away as a roaring noise filled her ears. She felt his hand about the back of her neck and his fingers playing through the short strands of hair that lay there. And when he pulled away moments later she was breathless.
She glared at him again. "You have to stop doing that without warning me," she hissed under her breath.
He smiled. "Ready to make an entrance now? I have a meeting at ten."
Molly turned away and got out of the car again. This time she paused to eye her bodyguard and then started up the steps of the school. Bruce joined her quickly and took her free hand. She tried to yank it back and he leaned in.
"It's only make-believe, Molly. Play nice."
She forced herself to relax, but tugged her hand free anyway. "Bruce, if you knew anything about me you'd know I don't like PDAs."
"Not even hand holding?"
She turned to him seriously before they walked inside and gave him a tired smile, even as a few diligent photographers flashed their bulbs from behind the school fence.
"Especially not hand holding. But if you're good I'll let you kiss me in front of the other teachers."
Bruce felt a grin slip across his face and he resisted the urge to pull her in then for another kiss.
As he walked her down the empty halls of the school, they talked quietly.
"How can you be so serious all the time, but still connect with your students in a meaningful manner? Doesn't teaching require a personal connection? Hugs, encouragement, hand-holding…"
She rolled her eyes and gripped her satchel tighter. "Bruce, just because I love my kids doesn't mean I have to enjoy a man making overt displays of affection in order to stake me as his territory. I don't enjoy being an object."
"So you're a feminist."
"Of course. But that's not why I dislike PDAs."
"You mean that's not why you distrust men," he shot back.
She stopped in front of an open door and turned to look at him. "Why, Bruce. I don't know what you mean. I trust you, don't I?" she said sweetly before standing on her tiptoes and giving him a brief hug.
"Is this it?" he asked, a little surprised at the action. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your colleagues?"
She hid a frown and stepped into the room. "If you insist."
Bruce smiled evenly and followed her, the bodyguard right behind them. "I do," he replied.
Every head in the room turned until everyone was staring. Bruce raised a hand.
"Good morning. How is everyone?"
From the back of the room came a shriek to rival Molly's from earlier. Molly thought it might have been Charlotte.
Hours later, Bruce found himself back at the mansion, seated at his supercomputer. He was doing some background research on the Russians and the gangs of Gotham. The way he saw it at the moment, he wouldn't be home to meet Molly for dinner, despite his promise to explain things. The Batman had a few dates of his own to keep.
He was sure she would understand- she'd probably even enjoy the alone time, based on her reactions that morning. He leaned back in his seat, pausing from his research. Something about what she'd said- the way she'd carried herself…it bothered him. She'd made it sound as though she'd been objectified by a man before. Not something uncommon to many women, but her reaction to all his innocent gestures was disturbing. What had she said? That she didn't like being staked as territory. Like property.
Only women who had a fear of becoming property didn't like chauvinism. And only women who had a reason to fear it did. He shook his head to clear it and turned back to his research. He'd find out nothing about Molly's past by thinking about it. Besides, he had work to do. And the only way to find out anything was by spending time with her…which he wouldn't be able to do if he kept dawdling over the bigger picture. First, the gangs. Second, Molly. It wasn't an order he liked, but it would have to do. Molly herself would have told him so.
As for Molly, she was shuffling about the last of her papers by mid-afternoon. Most of the other teachers had gone home already and she was just wondering if she should call Bruce, or if he had some kind of canny sixth sense and would know when she was ready to leave. She pulled her satchel open and tucked the last of the papers inside and stood up, stretching. Charlotte peeked her head in the door of the classroom and gave a wave.
"You should probably leave soon," she advised the younger woman. Molly nodded and returned her wave.
"I know- I'm just waiting at this point…"
Charlotte eyed the body guard standing outside the door and then wandered into the room. "I see. On Mr. Wayne?"
Molly flushed, but didn't look away. Let them talk. She would have to; it was her only choice at this point. Surely she could endure this humiliation in order to protect herself, her job and her grandmother. Not to mention her kids- her being in danger put them in danger, too.
"You might say that," she replied.
Charlotte smirked. "You sly thing. I knew there was something going on. You were so eager to deny it earlier in the week."
Molly rubbed at her eyes and sighed. "Charlotte, do you have to be this way? Shouldn't we be grieving right now?"
"You mean Robert- yes, of course I'm sad about that. It's easier to think about your good fortune than to dwell on that at the moment, though. Do you think any of us like to think about being one step closer to death? We're not complete vultures, Molly." She paused and looked off as if remembering something. A soft smile spread across her face. "You know, Rob liked you, Molly."
Molly gave a small start and sat down again. Charlotte eyed her. "You did know, didn't you? Or at least guessed."
"I wondered," Molly murmured. "But he never said anything. Why bring it up now, anyway? It's too late."
"It was too late with you in the first place," Charlotte replied. "Your mind was always elsewhere and it's obvious to all of us that you weren't interested in dating. So that brings up a good question: was it too late because your heart already belonged to Mr. Wayne? Or is it your pocketbook and your grand plans already belong to him?"
Molly stood up again and clenched her fists. "Get out, Charlotte," she said as coolly as possible. The other woman raised an eyebrow and smirked again.
"I'm getting. Have a good night, Molly. See you tomorrow."
Molly watched her leave and then sat back down again hard. She stared at the little ornaments on her desk- a wooden schoolhouse, a miniature Gotham Tower, her name plate- and tried not to pick them up and throw them across the room. Charlotte was a hateful woman, she knew that. She'd been teaching for too long in an area she didn't really like, but her husband was stuck in Gotham if he wanted any sort of retirement package at all and Charlotte was loathe to give up a paying job in the current economy. No, the worst part of the exchange was realizing that if Charlotte felt that way, then half the other teachers did too. And if Molly was going to continue to make progress and try to make a difference in the kids' lives she needed more than half the faculty on her side. Sure, Bruce could buy their good opinions, but it wouldn't change the fact that beneath it all they were bitter and upset with her. And for what? Because Rob had liked her and she'd had the indecency to not do anything about while he was alive? Because all the single male teachers who were straight liked her and not women who were unhappy in their marriages?
She sighed and looked up at the clock on the wall. A little after one and Bruce hadn't tried to call. Well, she had meant to go see her grandmother. And what was the point in having a bodyguard if she didn't make him work for her? She stood up again and grabbed her satchel and jacket before turning off the lights stepping outside, pulling the door to. She locked it and looked up at the man.
"I'm going to my grandmother's," she said. The man nodded and pulled out a sleek phone. Molly eyed it. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"Contacting Mr. Wayne. He asked to be informed of your movements."
Molly held in yet another sigh and nodded. "Alright. Come with me, then."
"Should I call you a taxi?"
She laughed and began to walk down the hall. "There are no taxis in this part of town."
In twenty minutes they were walking up the steps of her grandmother's duplex. Molly had barely brought her hand to the doorbell when the door swung inward and the nurse on duty ushered the two of them in with a grim smile.
"It's been a few days, Miss Molly," she said. "Your gran's been asking over you- why didn't you call last night?"
Molly gave her an apologetic look and gestured towards the bodyguard. "I'm sorry. I've been…busy. How much of the news has Gran seen?"
"You mean all those things about Mr. Wayne? I tried to keep those parts away from her. You're lucky she's only interested in politics and the obituaries these days. But, I couldn't keep her from watching the news."
Molly made a face and headed for her gran's bedroom. "Is she up right now?"
"She is- been asking for you every ten minutes, especially after today's front page."
Molly thanked her and wandered down the hall and into the first floor bedroom, leaving the nurse to entertain her hunky bodyguard. She hadn't caught the man's name yet, but she didn't really care. She figured when she spoke with Bruce later (and when would later be, exactly?) she could clear up the whole escort thing anyway. As in, convince him that she was fine and didn't need a man hovering over her shoulder the whole time.
She paused in the door of the bedroom and watched the older woman watch television. She looked worse than she had three days ago, if it was possible. After nearly two years of surgeries and chemo, the woman had elected to go off all treatments and enter hospice and she'd been fading fast since then. That had been five months ago, but she'd been hanging on despite all complications. Molly had a feeling that she wanted to stick around long enough to get news of her little sister's first college report card before she finally let go. Not much could keep Madge Myers down- not even acceptance of death.
She stepped into the room and knocked on the door frame lightly. "Gran? How are you doing?"
"Hmm? Who's there- oh, Salome!" She turned her head and gave her eldest grand daughter a large smile. "Come in, come in." Her smile faded to a frown as Molly moved around to take a seat next to the bed and she pointed at her. "What's this about a shooting last night? And why haven't you told me all about young Mister Wayne? You've been remiss in your grand daughterly duties, Salome."
Molly hid a smile at her gran's description of Bruce. "It isn't the way it seems, Gran," she said. "But as for Robert- it is a tragedy. He was walking home last night- we missed each other because I left before him for once."
"I liked that young man," Madge sighed. "What a shame. It's these damned gangs- they get worse every year."
"I wish you'd let me move you, Gran."
"What? Convince me to leave the way you convinced Ruth? Never. She needed to get out, at least. Live her life. No, you won't move me so easy."
"You think getting my sister to leave was easy? We spent two years convincing her to go and you know it," Molly responded. "And if you'd stayed in your treatment program she'd probably still be here. As much as I hate to see you giving up this way, I know what you were up to."
A faraway look came into the old woman's eyes and she gazed at the television screen without seeing it. "I gave my whole life to this city and you two girls- and your mother before that. I wasn't about to watch her waste her life here just for me. We all knew the treatments weren't working anyway."
"I know," Molly said quietly. "It won't make it any easier to see you go, though."
"Well, enough of that. Are you being safe? Are they taking precautions with the school? I know you were there last night, love- you can't fool me with your talk of leaving before him. You're tired and there are bags under your eyes."
"There are always bags under my eyes-"
"Not like those. Now be honest with me, Salome. Are you in any danger?"
Molly looked up into her grandmother's face and felt tears come to her eyes. She reached up and took Madge's hand in hers. "I'm fine, Gran."
"Stop lying. Your sister was always better at that than you were. Now come on. Are you in trouble?"
"I'm more worried about you, actually."
"I'm an old woman," Madge scoffed. "And I'm dying already. There's nothing they can do to me that would hurt me. Might take away some dignity, but I'm not leverage unless you make me leverage."
Molly looked away and was about to speak further when she heard voices coming down the hallway outside. It sounded like Bruce. She was about to stand up when, what do you know, he appeared in the doorway in his perfectly pressed suit, hair slicked back, and tight smile in place upon his face. She rolled her eyes and took her hands from her gran's. The older woman noticed, but decided to confront Molly about it later. The girl clearly had complications in her life at the moment. Instead, she focused her attention on the billionaire standing in her rundown, but clean, home.
"Hello, Mrs. Myers, I'm sorry for the intrusion. I just came to check in on Molly."
Molly looked up at him and smoothed out a frown. "I hope the bodyguard is watching your vehicle."
"Alfred, too, thanks for asking, darling. Aren't you going to introduce-"
Molly stood up. "Gran, this is Mr. Bruce Wayne. Bruce, this is Madge Myers, my grandmother."
The elderly woman smiled and gave him the once over. "Well, Mr. Wayne, what brings you to my humble abode? I wasn't aware the Make-a-Wish foundation was still in operation in Gotham."
"Gran!" Molly hissed, face flushing with embarrassment. She looked up at Bruce quickly and caught the smile on his face. Her blush deepened and she glanced away again.
"So are you going to be the one who convinces my girl to grow her hair out again? I saw the pictures on that awful television show- have you come to ask permission to date her?"
"Actually, I think her hair style is quite attractive the way it is. And as for permission, I can't see any reason you wouldn't approve of me."
"Oh, this one's cheeky," Madge murmured, looking up at Molly's bright pink face. "I like him." She turned back to Bruce and positively twinkled at him for a moment before turning serious. "I'll approve as long as you can keep her safe."
"Of that, Mrs. Myers, I can assure you I have every intention of doing so."
An hour passed. Bruce hadn't anticipated spending that much time collecting Molly, or even of seeing her before that evening; but when he'd received the call from the bodyguard it was as if he couldn't help himself. He'd spent another few minutes closing up shop and then driven straight from the manor into the city. He simply had to make sure she was safe and sound- to see her. And now that he had? Well, he was stuck there, making conversation with the grandmother. Not that it was an unpleasant task. The old woman still had most of her wits about her and her story was fascinating. Never mind that he was learning everything there was to know about Molly's past. Molly's protests had been derailed by one look from her grandmother and she'd actually left the room twenty minutes into their talk, claiming she needed to speak with the nurse. Bruce didn't blame her- it couldn't be easy sitting there, hearing one's life story paraded out in front of a stranger- or fresh acquaintance- romantic interest? Bruce wasn't sure which category he fit into, but he knew that Molly wasn't entirely happy with the situation.
She walked in again, some glasses of what appeared to be lemonade in hand, just as Bruce was delicately explaining about the shooting the night before. Madge glanced up at Molly sharply and Bruce inclined his head in her direction as well.
"Do you think it's the same gang?" Madge asked Molly seriously. Molly looked from one face to the other- the question in Bruce's eyes made her glance away and she set the glasses down.
"No, of course not- Gran, Bruce doesn't need to hear all this," she finished in a lowered tone.
"What other gang?" Bruce asked, standing up. He put a hand on Molly's arm. "Has this happened before? Have you been targeted before?"
Molly shook him off and gave a false laugh. "It was a long time ago-"
"Three years ago, before I got sick. Made me worry to death about your sister," Madge interjected. "If it hadn't been for the Commissioner's help then you might not be standing here, young lady."
"Molly?" Bruce inquired, turning to face her again. His hand went to her arm again and this time she couldn't shake it off. The tight smile slipped back into place and Molly stared up at him, holding eye contact, not blinking.
"Bruce," she replied. Don't do this right now, she was telling him. His jaw clenched and he seemed unwilling to reach a decision. "We can talk about it later," she said softly, out of hearing of her grandmother. More loudly she continued, "Have some of the lemonade, Gran. It'll wash those pills down better than the tap."
Bruce finally let go of her arm, but he slid the hand about her waist, drawing her close. "We will talk about it later," he whispered in her ear before turning them both to face Madge. He smiled at her. "Either way it doesn't matter. Molly is going to be fine, I promise. I won't let her out of my sight. In fact, she- we- wanted to ask you if you'd like to move into my penthouse with us. It's perfectly comfortable-"
Madge's face creased into a frown and Molly hushed Bruce too late.
"Move in? You two have moved in together already?"
"Gran, it isn't-"
"Salome, just how long has this relationship been going on?"
"Gran-"
Bruce realized too late that he'd approached things the wrong way, for once (for more than once?) and he gave Molly an apologetic look.
"Get out," she hissed at him, "and let me clean up your mess, please."
Madge grew even more agitated when she saw Molly hustling Bruce from the room. "No, no- I want him to stay- he has some explaining to do, young lady-"
"Now, Gran, calm down, you aren't doing yourself any favors by getting upset this way." Molly closed the door firmly after Bruce and took a seat next to the bed. "Please, take your pills while I explain. You have to give me a chance to explain."
Madge eyed her eldest, responsible, practical grand daughter before giving a short nod and slowly taking the pills one by one.
"Thank you. Bruce and I-" Molly hesitated here. She'd never told a lie of this magnitude to her grandmother before. The woman who'd practically raised her from her infancy- the woman who had always been there for her, no matter what. And her Gran could always tell when she was lying. Molly closed her eyes and focused on Bruce, on the qualities of his that she liked. She would have to make this convincing. His hair, his eyes, his strong arms and hands…the sound of his voice when it was soft and low…the feel of his lips on hers…his generosity of spirit, not to mention how flattering it was, the lengths he'd gone to for her already. And all because of how genuinely good he was at heart…and how attracted he was to her. That was something. Those things together were a start. She felt herself blush again as she remembered their kisses and heard her grandmother chuckling.
"Well, well. So you've lost the battle to protect yourself from heartache, have you? Well good for you, Salome. You've picked quite a fellow."
"He picked me," Molly replied. She looked up at Madge and smiled. "So that's it? Don't you want to hear every gruesome detail? One blush and you believe me?"
Madge smiled softly and reached a hand out, caressing Molly's face. "Salome, I haven't seen you blush like that over a man in over fifteen years. If Mr. Bruce Wayne can make you feel that way, then I don't care if you had to keep it a secret, even from me. Let's just say I understand love pretty well. And sometimes we have to hide what we feel." She settled back against her pillows and finished her lemonade. "Now, how long has this been going on? Can I expect great grandchildren anytime soon?"
"Gran! That's not funny-"
"Because the only time I'll see them is at my gravesite, I know, I know."
Molly looked away and covered her eyes briefly. "That's not it, Gran."
"Why, what's the matter, Salome? Don't tell me there are worse things than gangs and shootings in your life."
"I actually wasn't going to say anything, but I didn't expect any of this to happen," Molly murmured. She looked up at her grandmother and smiled apologetically. "Oh, Gran, it was so awful last night- and this whole week- Bruce is lovely, but I hate having my picture everywhere. And I'm sure before they're finished with me they'll have all of my dirt out there for the whole world to see anyway. Nothing is sacred to those reporters."
"Salome, what are you talking about?"
"It was my doctor's appointment two weeks ago. I got the test results back last week. You know how another teacher I know has been trying to have a baby? The woman at Gotham Prep?"
"And they asked you to surrogate. I recall. I didn't approve, but I remember you telling me about it."
"Well, it's just that the extra money would have been useful…anyway, I got the results back from the preliminary exam and they were, well they indicated that I was…not viable."
Madge struggled to sit up straighter and stared at Molly sorrowfully. "Oh, my baby, that was such a long time ago- it could have been a mistake-"
"It wasn't a mistake, Gran, the doctor this time confirmed it. I can't have children. Not that I wanted any of my own to begin with, but somehow knowing that hasn't made it any easier to accept it…" Molly's voice trailed off and she put her head in her hands. "My life has never been easy, but you've always helped me pick up the pieces, Gran. What will I do without you?"
Madge rested a hand on her grand daughter's head and sighed. "I'm not gone yet, my dear Salome. I'm still here. And now you have someone else, too- Mr. Wayne. Let him help you, darling."
Molly stifled a hysterical giggle and wiped her cheeks. "Right. I'm sorry for unloading all this on you today, Gran. How are you handling it? Is you heart okay?"
Madge gave a short laugh and lifted her hand. "Don't worry about me, Salome. Keep yourself safe- make sure your sister knows to keep her head down, even if she is states away right now. And be kind to yourself. Take a vacation. I know you won't, but I had to say it. And don't wait so long before stopping in or phoning next time. And no, I refuse to move in with you two love birds- or whatever you are!"
Molly laughed with her grandmother this time and allowed her spirits to brighten. Her grandmother was right- there was no point in sighing too much. Things were what they were and she couldn't change them. Not sitting at her grandmother's side, waiting for her to die, anyway. Even if her partner at the moment was Bruce and the last thing she wanted to do (aside from shagging him, because she definitely did not want to shag him) was face anything with him, she had to get up and move forward. Meet the future. That sort of thing. (But no shagging!)
Bruce elected not to ask Molly any questions on the drive back to the penthouse, even though Alfred's driving meant he had plenty of time. He was too wrapped up in everything he'd heard that afternoon…especially the things he'd overheard. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop on Molly's private conversation with her grandmother. It was just that he'd heard how positive the elderly woman had sounded about Molly's reaction to him that he'd stayed by the door longer than he'd meant to. He glanced over at her. Her face was as serious as his, staring out the windshield, completely closed off in her own mind. He imagined that discovering you couldn't have children would do that to any normal woman- or man, for that matter. Her whole life was caught up in children, after all. Even if she'd never actively wanted one, he was certain she'd envisioned it from time to time, perhaps quite by accident. But then there had been that strange reference to the past again…she grew more mysterious the more he found out. Without thinking, he reached a hand over and rested it on hers, not saying a word. Molly started slightly at his touch, but didn't move her hand. She looked over at him and he caught her eye before bringing her hand to his mouth and kissing it softly. Pink crept across her cheeks again and he smiled at her.
"How about dinner out? It seems we owe one another some explanations. We'll stop at the penthouse to get changed, of course."
She withdrew her hand gently and fixed her gaze out the windshield again. "I'll take a rain check for Saturday night. Tomorrow's Friday and I have school in the morning and papers to grade. I can cook for myself if it's too much trouble."
"We're not making a very good start to this relationship."
"It's not my fault you've never dated a working girl before, Bruce. Any other woman in my position would tell you the same thing."
"I beg to differ," Bruce muttered.
"Don't pick a fight with me now, Bruce," Molly said. "You've intruded in every part of my life you can. Let me at least do my job and I won't interfere with yours- whatever that is."
"Ouch. And here I thought we'd agreed that I'm not a superficial bastard."
"You aren't," Molly said quickly. "But that doesn't change the fact that you are interfering in my life. If I were to do the same for your important work- and I know you do something important, otherwise you wouldn't need such a ridiculous public persona- wouldn't you get a bit tired of me?"
"At least your grandmother likes me," he responded, changing the subject.
"Leave Gran out of this."
"Come to dinner with me tonight."
"Order takeout."
Alfred stopped at a red light and Bruce turned to face her. She continued to stare straight ahead.
"You won't let me win."
"And you'll do whatever you want to anyhow, so I don't see why you're even bothering to ask me for my opinion," Molly shot back, finally turning to look at him. Grey eyes met brown and neither budged. A soft chuckle drifted back to them from the driver's seat and Bruce blinked.
"Fine. Just to prove that I know how to compromise, I'll order take out. But Saturday night I am taking you to the fanciest damned restaurant Gotham can offer and you'll drink your wine and simper appropriately at me while we discuss my very important business. Think you can handle that, or will you be grading papers then, as well?"
Molly smiled. "Didn't you guess by now, Bruce? I'm always grading papers."
Bruce turned away as a car behind them honked and the sleek sports car sped off down the avenue. He had a feeling this was only the first of many compromises he would be making.
AN: I'm sorry this update is soooo late! I was busy doing more important things for a while, like earning a Masters degree. :) Sigh, boring plot development chapter. I hate these, but I often find they are the most interesting to read later on. Well, we'll see. Enjoy!