Chapter 9: Peeling Tensions
After our night out I slept in until noon. Even if we don't plan to, we seem to just gravitate to sharing his room; if not his bed. Sometimes I just flop down onto the couch that lines the wall of Bruce's bedroom and watch him drift off to sleep. Other times we just fall into bed and cuddle up and fall asleep. That's all it has been so far though; sleeping. I imagine a lot of boys our age wouldn't be satisfied with just sleep, so I am thankful for that at least. I wonder if Bruce's is as freaked out about thinking of that kind of stuff as I am. I get how it all works, I'm not naive and I have spent plenty of time skulking about alleyways and rooftops to get a general idea how it's all meant to go. But the whole concept and I just don't seem to mesh in my head. I'm still getting used to having someone to make out with whenever I want let alone other stuff. I know Bruce wouldn't push anything I didn't want, but there is a small fear in the back of my mind that he may want more than I can give. Which considering how our practically stole his first kiss is kind of ironic. I think it's ironic anyway. It could be coincidental; I'd have to ask Bruce. He's very pedantic about the meaning of irony. Sometimes I wish thinks like sex and boyfriends could be simple.
I give a huff of frustration as my mind wanders aimlessly thinking about future things for me and Bruce. I can feel him curled up behind me with his face pressed into my hair. His slow deep breaths are rolling warmly across the back of my neck while his hand lightly rests over my belly. Normally Bruce wakes up before I do. I am not a morning person, but I guess I've got a bit on my mind. I take a peek at the alarm clock in front of me. It's getting close to one in the afternoon. I suddenly feel a soft rumble in my stomach and I realize I haven't eating in a while. Deciding to sneak into the kitchen and swipe some fruit, I slowly unwind Bruce from around me and gracefully lever myself out of our bed. When did I start calling it our bed I wonder as I slowly pull my jacket on over my long sleeve shirt. I shake off the thought as I slowly duck out of the bedroom and down the hallway in search of food.
As I approach the kitchen I hear some music playing quietly behind the closed door and some occasional banging noises. I gently ease open the kitchen door and poke my head in. What I see is something I think will I will never forget for the rest of my life. Standing in the kitchen is Alfred Pennyworth, with a glass of wine to one side and humming along to some old English punk band as he works a cleaver into some meat. I watch as Alfred brings his arm down quickly and hacks off another small piece of meat. He transfers the meat to the plate before continuing on. I slip soundlessly into the room.
"What'cha listening to?" I ask casually as I walk across the room and grab an apple from the bowl. Alfred lets out a quiet curse as he turns abruptly on the spot to look at me.
"You nearly scared the bleeding life outta me" he says annoyed as he reaches over and turns down the music on the old looking stereo. I take my apple and pull myself up onto my usual spot on the counter. "Must you always sneak up on me like that Miss Kyle?" he asks.
"I didn't mean to" I pretend. "I just wanted to know what you were listening to". Alfred looks at me curiously as I slip my switchblade out of my jacket pocket and start peeling the apple skin to the floor unfettered.
"It's an old band me mates used to listen to" he says calmly as he steps over and nudges one of the bins under me for the apple peel to fall in. "The drummer grew up just down the way from where we lived".
"Ah" I say distractedly as I keep peeling the apple. Out the corner of my eye I see Alfred return to his place in front of the chopping block to pick up the cleaver. His hand moves for the handle but he seems to change his mind as he pivots on the spot.
"Will Master Bruce be joining us any time soon?" he asks.
"He's asleep... long night" I say as I finish peeling the apple and take a small bite of the tart flesh.
"I see then..." he begins quietly. "This may be a good moment for us to discuss some things".
"What things?" I ask suspiciously. I suddenly recall the last time Alfred and I had a talk in this kitchen.
"You know very well what bloody things" he says crossly. "Don't think it has not escaped my attention that you and Master Wayne have been sharing a bed as of late" he continues as his voice fills with venom.
"Look... nothing's happened..." I begin trying to placate him.
"...nor has it escaped my attention that the pair of you has been off snogging every other change you get" he finishes, cutting me off.
"How is that any of your business?!" I say angrily.
"Allow me to finish" he says menacingly before straightening himself and taking a few calming breaths.
"Well?" I ask impatiently as I take another bite of my apple.
"Well... the only reason I have not seen fit to put an end to this youthful mischief..." he answers. "...is because for now I am just grateful Bruce is taking an interest in anything other than his obsession with solving the murder of his parents or any other set of lunatics along the way!"
"I... uh..." I stutter trying to grasp what Alfred is saying.
"But there is a point where I must say something" says Alfred calmly. "There is a difference between what Bruce needs, and what he wants".
"And what? Bruce doesn't need me?" I ask bitterly.
"You tell me young miss. Could you really see yourself one day as mistress of the Wayne Manor?" he asks condescendingly. "I know very well how you kids are these days. But Master Bruce was not raised like that" he explains. "If he has a romantic interest in you... then he is bloody well serious about it".
"And I'm not serious?" I ask with disgust.
"Oh you lot these days change sweethearts more often than you change your bleeding skivvies" he dismisses causing me to roll my eyes at him.
"Not that it is your 'bloody' business" I say imitating the Englishman's accent for a moment. "But I've never had a sweetheart or whatever before!" I continue as I slip down off the counter and square off against him.
"Well, that's all well and good, but could you really wear fancy dresses and talk and smile to all the well-to-do people as Mistress Wayne?" he asks honestly.
"I..." I stutter as I try to picture myself as Bruce's wife smiling at all the rich carefree people I despise. "...probably not" I say meekly as I turn to leave the kitchen. As I turn I see Bruce standing there looking curiously at me. Alfred turns and spots Bruce looking crossly at him.
"Ah Master B" says Alfred trying to break the suddenly tense atmosphere. "Miss Kyle and I were just having a little talk about your relationship" he finishes as he calmly stands with his hands behind his back.
"I heard Alfred" says Bruce bitterly. "I know you are trying to protect me... but you are mistaken" he says slowly but with a certainty in his voice that calms me for some reason.
"How's that then?" he asks.
"I do need Selina... but not to play a happy wife" says Bruce slowly. "I need her to keep me from getting buried in my search for answers" he says confidently.
"And you believe she is the one to do that?" asks Alfred skeptically. I feel a bolt of anger shoot through me at Alfred's words.
"She is" answers Bruce simply. Alfred turns to me with a curious look in his eye.
"And what do you think then miss?" Alfred asks me cautiously.
"Hell if I know" I answer. "I just drag him off to do something fun when he looks tense... and sometimes kiss him because it makes me happy and makes him smile" I say honesty. I think once upon a time a conversation like this would make me run away and probably swipe something valuable on the way out the back window. Now all I can think about when Alfred starts interrogating me about me and Bruce is trying to convince him to let us be. I watch as Alfred gives a curt nod.
"It would seem that I was out of line then" says Alfred evenly as his eyes return level and his soldier persona shifts to the front.
"You were Alfred" says Bruce confidently as he looks calmly to his guardian and butler.
"I'll... er... be out" I say as I grasp for an excuse as I make my way to the kitchen door. I leave the room as I hear Bruce and Alfred trading words calmly as they do their man-to-man thing. As I walk down the hallways with my half eaten apple in hand I wonder to myself what my future holds. I really don't think I can give up myself and my nature to be Mrs. Bruce Wayne. But I also don't want anything more than just to be around Bruce. Maybe it doesn't matter. Alfred is old school, and he expects Bruce to want to be like his father; married with kids and the whole parties and luncheons crap. Maybe Bruce and I will just have to figure out our own thing. Screw convention; people already give me dirty looks. They already give Bruce pitying looks. We don't need to please people like that. We can be whatever the hell we want to be. And all I want to be is with Bruce Wayne. I guess the whole boyfriend thing isn't as complicated as I thought.
AN: You knew this was coming. I felt the characterization waver a bit in this chapter so if anyone agrees, let me know. Also in my mind Alfred Pennyworth listens to the Clash. Anyone else remember the first time they figured out relationships aren't complex for the reasons we typically think? Yeah me either...
