Chapter 9
Sitting on the plan, he stole a glance in her direction. His exile was over and though he had wanted to stay with her in paradise as long as possible, an inherent need to get back to his city convinced him to pack and start the journey back to Gotham.
She had been quiet since boarding the plane. They had bonded in the few weeks in Italy and she hadn't really wanted to leave. There was nothing much to go back to, she thought. She had decided to quit her job at the hospital in favor of working with Leslie at the clinic.
Leaning against the window, she looked down at the clouds and sighed. They had made love dozens of times and walked hand in hand on the beach. They had watched the sun set and rise together and swam out further in the ocean than was probably safe. They had scaled the craggy mountain side and perused the town like a honeymooning couple.
She hadn't pushed him to be honest with her and had left him to his own devices when he seemed he needed solitude. He had spent a great deal of time working out, she thought, but hadn't felt it right to pressure him for answers. He had made it clear more than once that he wouldn't confide in her until he felt like it.
The stubborn man was lightly dragging his finger tip around the rim of his water glass with a far away look in his eyes. He was a man, she thought, that was uncomfortable being unsure of himself. He struck her as someone who normally was very sure of himself.
"Penny for your thoughts…"
Jolted from his thoughts, Bruce turned to her and smiled slightly. "I'm not sure they're worth that much," he lied. He was sure the thoughts torturing his mind would be worth billions on the black market. Supervillians would pay handsomely to learn the secrets of the Dark Knight.
She smiled. "I think that was a line in a movie from long ago. It was a romance."
They sat, staring into each eyes for a few minutes. Standing, he made his way across the isle to the seat next to her and sat down. "What will you do when we get back?"
Shrugging, she tried to appear casual. "I'm going to spend more time at the clinic."
Frowning, he seemed visually unhappy with that answer. "You're quitting your job." His tone conveyed that he was making an observation rather than asking a question.
"Yes," she said, her tone defensive, "I am. I want to do what I like and I like working at the clinic."
"Fair enough." Staring at her a moment longer than was necessary, he released a slow breath. "I'm not sure what I can give you once we arrive back in Gotham."
She knew just what he was trying to say. "I understand. This was supposed to be a fling anyway, Bruce. Don't worry. You don't even have to call me if you don't want to. I…" She felt her voice slip away as his face slowly registered shock. "Um…sorry, did I say something wrong?"
Licking his suddenly dry lips, he looked at her with an incredulous and slightly annoyed expression. "I didn't mean that, Connie. I meant…everything you asked of me during the last few weeks…I never answered your questions. I want to see you, but I can't give you anymore than what I already have."
Her face immediately registered a bright smile. "Good companionship and great sex. I guess it could be worse."
Staring through her veneer of humor, his frown deepened. "Connie…" His voice had a warning tone, "I'm being serious. I don't want you to think I don't…"
"Stop. Just stop." Putting her hand up with her palm facing him she looked disgusted but determined. "Let's not talk about this anymore. Don't bare your heart right now. When you're ready to let me know you, then I'll get to know all of you. So, just…just stop."
Nodding slowly, he turned away from her and rubbed his temples. "As you wish Connie."
Standing again, he returned to his own seat across from her and studied his water glass once again. Taking a deep breath, he leaned his head against his closed fist and rested his elbow on the arm rest of his seat.
It was time to concentrate on returning to his life, he told himself. Connie wanted much more than he could give, was willing to give, he thought. He had taken the necessary time to heal his mind and she had been a soothing balm most of the time of his overseas vacation.
The first call he had made before starting to pack his bags had been to Alfred. Bruce's oldest friend and confidant had sounded pleased to hear that he would be returning home. Bruce's second phone call had been to Dick, who had been markedly less pleased than Alfred to learn of Bruce's returning home.
His son had tried to convince him to stay away longer. Dick had wanted Bruce to be sure he was ready to return to the streets. In response, Bruce had, in few words, explained he wasn't returning to the suit. He was returning to his city to continue his retraining of himself.
Looking towards Connie once again, Bruce tried to keep himself from thinking about her. She was a complication he did not need. He needed to reconcile with his family members, regain their trust and prove to himself he was once again worthy and ready to be Batman.
Once he had accomplished those tasks, he had to find Talia and bring her to justice. There was no doubt in his mind that she was alive and plotting once again. There was no time, it seemed, with all the tasks he had to accomplish to have a relationship with Connie.
Bristling slightly at the thought that he was starting to become addicted to her, he told himself he simply enjoyed her company and the peace she seemed to bring him. In spite of her pride and stubborn personality, she calmed him. She made him enjoy himself.
She was complicated and willful and was certainly going to cause him pain when she died. His chest seized with pain at the thought of her death and it was with great difficulty that he swallowed his distress.
Pushing those thoughts from his mind, he took a deep breath and started listing for himself everything he had to accomplish. A conversation with Tim was first on his list, he thought. Frowning at that, Bruce thought to himself he would rather walk over hot coals than talk to Tim. Actually, he knew from experience that walking over hot coals would be easier, he told to himself.
Glancing at his watch, he fought the urge to sigh. It would be another four hours before their plane landed and then he would have to face his family. Convincing the pilot to turn the plane around and return to hiding in Italy was a much more pleasant idea.
Convincing himself to stay seated, he glanced at Connie once again. She was staring at him with one raised eyebrow and a smirk pulling at her lips.
"What?" He suddenly knew how women Bruce Wayne leered at felt.
Her lips quirked upwards even more. "I was just thinking…"
He decided to take the bait and prompt her. "About…"
She recognized her mood swings for what they were and what they were connected to, but decided to follow her whims instead of fighting for greater control over herself. Standing, she approached him and instead of sitting next to him, sat on his lap.
"You know what they say about planes, don't you?"
Smiling ever so slightly, he gently put his hands on either side of her hips. "You are very confusing."
Smiling, she leaned towards him and brushed his lips with his. "Just go with it, Bruce."
Smiling, he figured her distraction would at least make the flight pass a little faster. Allowing her to distract him from his thoughts and plans, he captured her lips with his and pulled her closer to him. She was a dangerous distraction, but one he could not seem to withstand.
