To be honest, Amy felt miserable and on the verge of crying. She was cold, barefoot and a very, very long way from her apartment. Even if she could make it all the way there in the middle of the dark, dangerous Gotham night without being attacked, she had left her keys in the stairwell of Bruce's building. Yes, she decided, it was okay to be miserable and self-pitying at the moment.
She hugged the shadows as best she could and tried not to make eye contact with anyone. She heard a low rumble of a big engine behind her, and she cringed, hoping to God it wasn't that grey car of Bruce's. Sliding a sidelong glance to the street, she was confused when she didn't see anything around her. She could have sworn she heard that engine.
Quickly, she turned back and started to move forward again, only to run into a solid wall of blackness. She inhaled sharply to scream, only to have two arms wind comfortingly around her, and a familiar voice growl, "Don't. It's me."
The breath came back out as a half-sob, and she threw herself fully into the embrace for a moment in sheer relief.
"Oh, thank God!" she choked, her fingers digging into the ridges and edges of the armor plates. She felt fabric surround her as the Batman wrapped her in his cape and lifted her so that her bare feet were resting on his boots and not the cold pavement.
"Are you all right?" he grunted, taking one hand and tilting up her chin.
Amy nodded, taking deep, shuddering breaths to calm herself down.
"Yes, I'm okay," she said. "At least now I am. I've had a hell of a night."
"So it would seem."
"Listen, can you break into my apartment? I lost my keys, and I have a spare set inside."
"Yes."
"And also, we have to talk. I have a suspect for you."
"Let's get you home, first." As if she weighed nothing, he swept her into his arms and carried her into the darkness of the alley.
For the first time in a long time, Amy allowed herself to relax completely in a man's arms - never mind that the man wore a bat costume and was a known criminal. There was something about the Batman that both enticed her and completely reassured her. Here was someone who was as strong as she was, if not stronger. He was as tough and as disciplined, and just as intelligent. It was exciting to her like nothing else had ever been, and his sheer physical prowess seemed to overwhelm her and surround her, and for once, she didn't feel threatened by a man's touch.
Relaxing deeper as his rhythmic steps lulled her through the darkness, she struggled to be outraged at the preposterous idea that she was falling for an impossible man. She should be horrified at herself at the situation she was letting herself in for, sticking to her principles and not associating with a wanted vigilante, a man who was in all likelihood deranged and dangerous. But she just couldn't muster the necessary energy or emotions.
She wondered if she was in more danger from her heart and the Batman than from the homicidal intentions of Bruce Wayne.
Why was life so complicated?
Ridiculously soft. Was she actually snuggling against him? God, why were her bare legs such an incredible...stop. He had to stop and think and be cold and logical.
She was almost dozing when he reached the Tumbler and deposited her in the passenger seat. She looked content. Content? To be with him?
The ride was short and silent back to her apartment. He left the Tumbler again in the darkness of an alley and carried her to the back of her building.
"Wrap your arms around my neck," he ordered, lowering her to her feet, but careful to keep her bare feet on his boots. "We're going up."
He wound one arm around her waist and pulled her tight to him as he shot the cable up to the roof and felt the grapple catch. Her arms snaked around his neck.
God, her breath on his jaw. Damn.
Silently, they shot up to her fire escape balcony. Noiselessly, he landed them. He heard her chuckle as he easily pried open her bedroom window and helped her climb inside.
"Now I know how you do it," she laughed, smiling at him.
"No, you don't."
"I could do it myself now."
"I doubt it."
She laughed again, and he felt his stomach flutter. She seemed so at ease with him in this situation. He was having trouble understanding why.
"Do you mind? I need to change?"
He realized he had been staring at her, and that they were standing in her bedroom. Without a sound, he disappeared into the living room.
Had he really been standing here just a few hours earlier, dressed impeccably in Dior and hoping for a romantic date with Amy Curtis?
It couldn't have been three minutes later when Amy came out again, now dressed in sensible flats, jeans an white shirt. Her hair was roped into a bun again, and she was busy stuffing things into a messenger bag.
"Okay, so here's the deal," she said, looking up at him, all business. "Big stuff has been going down tonight."
He knew that.
"First, I went to Oshinu, and someone slipped something into my drink."
He knew that.
"I'm pretty sure the waiter came over to the table, but I only saw an old black man - the lead singer in the band that was playing there - and...horrible things shot out of his mouth...blood, snakes, worms."
Ah, so that's what she had seen. No wonder she had been terrified, poor girl!
"Do you believe the man actually had anything to do with it?"
Amy nodded emphatically. "Naturally, I don't believe in the worms and snakes, though."
"I thought I had heard people possessed in Voodoo had creatures inside them."
She shook her head and smiled. "It's part of the lore, true, but it's kind of like psychic surgery where some quack pretends to plunge his hand into you and pull out guts, but in reality, he's just pushing really hard into your abdomen and by sleight of hand slip chicken guts into their hand to show you."
"Lovely."
"Honestly, I think the legends of beasts inside the possessed probably came from parasitic infections like tapeworms and hookworms, things that when they passed through the body or were found in an autopsy seemed ghastly and demonic to people before modern medicine explained what it was."
"Makes sense."
"But anyway, back to what happened at Oshinu. The man and that band had also played at a Bruce Wayne fundraiser was there. They played a Papa Justify song - same one they played at the other event. I don't call that coincidence."
"What do you call it?"
"Evidence."
"Of what?"
"Of who is masterminding these murders."
Interesting.
"Who?"
She fixed her gaze on him. "Bruce Wayne."
He had not been expecting that. For a moment, he didn't know what to say. Luckily, the Batman was the strong, silent type anyway.
"He has the means and the opportunity, and if you need any other evidence besides the same band showing up twice when he's around, he tried to kill me tonight."
Whoa.
"He did?"
Amy nodded, her jaw set. "Think about it. I'm the only person in Gotham who has the knowledge about Voodoo to figure out what he's doing. It explains why he has been interested in me since he found out about me."
No, it didn't.
"He knows about Voodoo, has traveled to that part of the world, has enough money to afford 20 personal bokors if he wanted, and -"
"What about motive?" Give the man a break!
Amy shrugged. "That's part of what we have to find out, but think about it. His parents were brutally murdered before his eyes. I'm no psychologist, but I'm pretty sure that seeing that kind of violence and experiencing that trauma at a young, impressionable age would screw a boy's mind up pretty significantly."
She had no idea.
"I woke up in his penthouse and knew I had to get out of there. He chased me, but I managed to get away from him."
Yes, he was aware of that.
"But, I'm going to call him up and apologize."
"Why?"
"Now that I know what he's up to, I'm going to stay on him like white on rice."
If only.
"I can protect myself against him, now that I know to be on guard. I'm in a good position to find out what he's up to and why and how. I don't think he's killing those men with his own hands."
No, no he wasn't.
"I'm also going to investigate in the Ancien Quartier."
"That's too dangerous."
"I think we discussed this already. Besides, you didn't exactly point out how dangerous it was for me to hang around Bruce Wayne."
"It's dangerous to hang around Bruce Wayne." In a way, it probably was.
"Thank you. Now, are you going to drive me to the Ancien Quartier, or do I have to risk life and limb taking the train?"
"I'll drive."
She smiled at him, and he almost smiled back.
Why was life so complicated?
A/N: Thank you for all the reviews and alert subscriptions!! The more reviews I get, the more excited I get to write new chapters...and the faster new chapters go up! Also, to answer some questions: I borrowed Papa Justify from "The Skeleton Key" because I really liked the name, but that's where the similarity ends. The Voodoo is all my own research, and the plot, as you'll see, doesn't have much else in common with that movie. :-) If you're interested in what I think Amy Curtis looks like, I kind of envision her as Samantha Mathis from "Little Women" - I just thought there was something very intriguing about her face, and I loved the thick, blonde bun...
So, again, virtual, fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies for all reviewers!
Yours in mischief,
Kate September