A/N - Thank you! Thank you! Thank you, for the kind reviews, messages, follows, favourites and alerts. I'm really pleased at the reception that this is getting. This chapter is a little shorter than what I've done, but I was wanting to post this before the weekend was through. And like the good Canadian that I am, I must talk about the weather because it is BEAUTIFUL here! 12-15 degrees Celsius and our snow is 98% gone! If it was fall and 12 Celsius, I'd be freezing and cursing the wretched season...but 12 Celsius in the spring is flip-flop weather!

Bring it on!


Madelyn winced when she heard Charlotte's voice from outside followed swiftly by Bruce's. Alfred reached over and gently placed his hand over Madelyn's. The older woman was visibly fretting over the obviously loud and confrontational conversation erupting in her back yard.

"This is a good thing," Alfred said to her, trying to convince himself at the same time. "They need to discuss this or this unwarranted hostility will just continue until they do."

Madelyn nodded, looking out the bay window into the back yard where Charlotte stood in front of Bruce, her stance obvious that she was angry and defending herself as much as Bruce was standing his ground. They couldn't hear the exact words that were being spoken, but it appeared that it wasn't quiet nor polite.

Alfred was beginning to wonder if getting Charlotte angry and getting into a verbal confrontation with her was part of Bruce's plan to plant the bug on her. Except as he watched the man he raised, it was becoming evident to him that Bruce wasn't pretending.

At one point, they saw Charlotte quickly take a step back from Bruce and turned on her heel, raising her hands up in rebuttal before opening the french door and rushing back inside. They didn't have to take a look at Charlotte's face to know that the woman was angry. A second later, Bruce walked into the house, trailing Charlotte as she made her way towards the hallway that would lead to the front entrance and staircase.

"Charlotte! I wasn't finished talking!" he called out, his voice echoing in the house

"I was!" she quickly shot back over her shoulder. "If I have to explain to you why I'm angry, then you obviously don't get it."

Bruce vocally sighed. "I can't read your mind! Will you please stop walking away from me?"

"And you always get what you want, don't you Bruce!"

Bruce scoffed, equally irritated with the woman. He had been used to hearing rude comments pointed in his direction and he would let them roll off his back with a pompous laugh. This time, this was different. He wasn't giving in.

"Speak for yourself," Bruce said, with a satisfied smirk on his face. "Or don't you remember the last time I saw you in Paris? You got exactly what you wanted."

He was actually going to bring it up. Charlotte turned in the middle of the hallway to see Bruce was following behind her. He stopped directly in front of her, her face red in anger.

"I can't believe that I was stupid enough to have sex with someone as egotistical and pompous as you! Get out of my house, now!" She pointed in the direction of the front door.

"Or what? You'll punch me?"

"I'm considering it, yes. Let me list the things that you have done that would certainly warrant an ass kicking from a girl!"

Bruce crossed his arms. The gloves were coming off.

"You seriously think that you have a more justified reason to be pissed off than I do?!"

Charlotte smirked defiantly and let out a mock laugh.

"Oh my God, you really are as arrogant as they say, aren't you," she stated, rather than questioned. "You stole $500 from me that I needed for rent! You're a god-damned cheater and a thief!"

Bruce shook his head. "You are so full of crap! It certainly didn't take you long to turn into one of those air-brained, stuck up women that seem to constantly throw themselves at me. Oh, and I never cheated!"

Charlotte let out a mock laugh. "Oh, that's priceless. The all-mighty prince of Gotham isn't a cheat! Just tell that to the air-brained, stuck up women who you date like a revolving door."

"Charlotte, I never cheated while you were away!" he argued bitterly, taking a step forward and narrowing the gap between them, as he nearly growled the words out between his teeth. "You couldn't wait a few months to come home before jumping in bed with the first guy you met in Europe!"

"That's not true!"

"Then tell me, who the hell did I see you kissing over that first Thanksgiving that you were away?!"

Charlotte paused in their verbal exchange, suddenly causing the house to become quiet.

"What are you talking about?"

"I went to Paris to surprise you," Bruce said, his tone somewhat softer. "I saw you with someone."

Charlotte shook her head.

"There never was anyone for months after I arrived in Europe," Charlotte told him. "It wasn't until I realized that you had moved on and had no interest in continuing a relationship of any kind with me that I began dating again."

"I can't believe you, when I saw you with my own eyes, Charlotte," Bruce said, sternly.

Charlotte shrugged sadly and turned, continuing her path through the house to the staircase. "Obviously, you need glasses because I don't know what to tell you then. You never returned my calls and you stopped calling me all together. Only when I saw the tabloids with you and Monica, I moved on."

Bruce followed after her and paused. "Monica?"

Charlotte scoffed, surprised that he had forgotten.

"Blond, skinny as a rail and a product of numerous plastic surgeries," Charlotte stated over her shoulder. She had the image of this model in her head for years, knowing that she was replaced in his life by her. She stopped once more when she reached the steps. "I'll never forget her. I guess it is a consolation to know that you obviously have."

In all honesty, Bruce had gone out with Monica a few times the month after he returned from Europe. He had been hurt and knew that he was using Monica to heal that wound. Even Rachel had told Bruce that she could tell that he was just wasting his time with her. He slowly came out of that behaviour and turned his affections to Rachel and their friendship grew.

"Yeah, but I never dated her until after I saw you in Paris," Bruce told her. "I was actually surprised to see you with the guy. I never took you for someone who would be into men with beards."

Bruce knew her well enough to know that she never was wasn't fond of guys with beards or moustaches. She had never dated anyone with facial hair but she did have friends who did. Then suddenly it hit her. That first Thanksgiving away from home.

"Andrew," she stated, shaking her head. "You're talking about Andrew."

Bruce shrugged, having no clue who this Andrew was. Charlotte was talking more to herself as she let out an incredulous laugh.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, through laughter. "You thought me and Andrew...?"

Bruce wasn't impressed with her finding the situation comical.

"Charlotte, this isn't funny."

"Oh yes it is." Suddenly, her laughter turned to anger. Bruce watched her face turn angry. "Because Andrew...is gay! I have gone through all of this crap because you thought I was dating someone who was gay!"

Bruce was speechless, as he tried to recall that day again. Charlotte continued, her emotions still raw.

"Andrew was the first American I met after I arrived and it was also his first Thanksgiving abroad so we spent it together!" She paused as she swallowed the lump in her throat that tried to bubble up.

"You never trusted me," she concluded soberly. "And I can't trust you."

Silence.

For the first time, neither one spoke. They simply stared at each other, almost seeing the wounds that they had caused to each other. Charlotte had nothing else to say and it was apparent to her that neither did Bruce. After a beat, she turned and headed up the staircase. As much as she wanted to burst into a fit of tears, she held it back as she had taught herself many years ago. Back then, Bruce had somehow been able to see the sadness in her eyes and now, she hoped that he had forgotten how to.

Bruce stood, watching her walk away from him. He was stunned. Everything that he had known or assumed was wrong. He didn't want to dwell on all the 'could-have's but it was impossible for his mind not to consider them.

The grandfather clock ticked loudly as seconds passed like minutes.

"Charlotte!" he finally called out, his own voice hitched in his throat. "I'm so sorry."

Bruce had hoped that his genuine apology would have caused her to stop or at least turn around. Instead, it did not. He watched her until she disappeared around the corner. With a sigh, he put his hands into his pockets and suddenly felt the hearing device in his pocket. He cursed inwardly. He had completely forgotten to plant it in her purse. Then again, it wasn't like he had the chance to. Her purse was no where in sight and it wasn't on his radar the moment he saw Charlotte. It had been a while since he had a confrontational conversation with someone who left him completely unfocused. It was unnerving.

With a sigh, he headed to the front door and walked out, closing the door behind him. Bruce felt the warm breeze blow through his hair as he walked down the steps. He paused and sat down on the second bottom step.


Madelyn smiled weakly at Alfred as they both heard the front door close. They had heard the entire conversation and although it didn't go the way they had hoped, Alfred was pleased to know that it was just a misunderstanding. Both Madelyn and Alfred silently agreed that they wished they hadn't heard about their physical encounter in Paris. In fact, Alfred had known that Bruce had met her in Paris. Charlotte had called the day after she had seen Bruce. It had been a large weight lifted off of the older man's shoulders to know that Bruce wasn't dead, simply missing by his own free-will. He had no idea that it would be nearly seven years before he'd hear from Bruce.

Alfred didn't stay for much longer and after rearranging another tea time with Mrs. Porter, he said goodbye.

Alfred wasn't pleased when he heard that Bruce didn't even accomplish what he intended to do when he came along with him to the Porter Estate. As they drove back home, Alfred shook his head and glanced at Bruce in the rear-view mirror.

"So, you have nothing to show for your effort today besides leaving their house looking like a complete arse," Alfred stated, his frustration to the younger man extremely visible.

As crudely as he put it, Bruce agreed.

Yes, he did act like an ass and if anything, he dug himself a deeper hole in Charlotte's mind. She was right about one thing. He didn't trust her and it was more than obvious that she didn't trust him.

"I apologized," Bruce admitted soberly. "But I doubt that she believed me."

"That's a good assumption considering your past and the accusations you two have formed. If you want her to believe you, you may want to do more than just apologize," Alfred suggested.

Bruce nodded and smiled as he understood what Alfred was suggesting to him.

"I think you're right, Alfred. I'd have to do with actions and not so much with words."

Alfred looked up in the rearview mirror at Bruce. The younger man was looking out the window, an odd smile on his face. Alfred would be lying to himself if he didn't feel a tinge of hope within him.

"May I ask why you're suddenly so concerned about having Miss Porter believe your apology?"

"If I'm going to somehow get this listening bug on her, I'll need her to trust me enough to get close."

That sudden hope was dashed.

Alfred scoffed and mumbled. "And here I thought it was because you genuinely cared for her or had an interest in Miss Porter."

Bruce scowled at Alfred. Bruce had heard Alfred's comment but didn't offer any retort. Alfred looked back at the road ahead of him and sighed inwardly.

"It was just a thought."