Disclaimer: I don't own Batman
Thanks to Kindleflame5, ZabuzasGirl, scarlet tribe, Guest 1, highlander348, ILuvOdie, and Guest 2 for your reviews on Chapter 9 and Kindleflame5, ZabuzasGirl, Guest 3, highlander348, Guest 4, josephguy217, and Guest 5 for your poll reviews!
The next day, Bruce drove us to work together. He was chomping at the bit to take the Lamborghini for a spin since going to the DMV and receiving a new license.
"I swear if you go over 50 on this street, I will kill you!" I threatened, grasping the 'oh shit' handle over the door as Bruce gracefully maneuvered the speedy car through the narrow streets. He rolled his eyes, a move I'd noticed him doing a lot since coming back home.
"Will you relax? I'm a great driver," he replied smoothly.
"Tell that to the squirrel we almost pancaked pulling out of the driveway," I muttered under my breath.
"Should have moved," Bruce reasoned.
I snorted and nearly fell out of the door once we parked. Bruce helped me up and brushed me off before taking my arm and strolling to the elevator, letting me enter before leaning forward.
"Meet me in Applied Sciences during lunch," he whispered, backing up and letting the elevator carry me up to my floor.
When I got there, the message light on my phone was blinking. I picked it up, ready to take notes.
Most of them were from the press, digging for information on Bruce while others were for Earle on work related business. A cargo ship had recently sailed from Asia with valuable Wayne Enterprises goods and was on schedule to arrive in a few days. That one Earle would like.
One of the last messages was from my mother. I was slightly confused as to why she would call my work phone when I kept my cell phone on me at all times.
"Hi honey, its mom. I couldn't get a hold of you on your cell and Alfred said you were busy. I was just wondering how you were. I heard Bruce was back and wanted to check on you. Have you made plans for his birthday yet? If you haven't, give me a call and we can work something out. Your dad sends his love! Goodbye Laney baby." I erased the call and sat back.
I'd always flipped out over Bruce's birthday, sad that he wasn't going to be there to celebrate with us. Now that he was back, we actually did have to celebrate it. Quickly, I dialed the home number. It rung twice before the soothing voice of my father filled my ears.
"Hello Delaney," he greeted. I smiled.
"Hi Daddy." Calling him 'Daddy' made me remember when I was little and he'd give me piggyback rides or hold my hand when we'd cross the street.
"To what do I owe this pleasure, honey?" he asked.
"What, I can't call my parents without a reason?" I teased.
"No." he deadpanned.
"Exactly, so is Mom there?" I laughed. He chuckled.
"One moment," I heard him call for my mother and her footsteps as she approached him.
"Hi sweetie," she said.
"Hey mom, I got your message," I replied.
"Oh good, so have you thought of anything?"
"Not really," I sighed, slinging an arm over my chair "I've been busy with work and Bruce coming back and it totally slipped my mind. Would you be able to put something together?"
"Sure thing baby. Any preferences?" I thought back some of the things Bruce had told me about in the recent conversations we'd had.
"Food-wise? Nothing too heavy: Bruce has a sensitive stomach. And we'll have it in the ballroom at the manor. Other than that, just keep it simple and you have free reign." Giving my mother control would be one less thing to stress about and I knew she would make everything perfect.
"Roger that! Get some rest honey, and don't let that old geezer get you down!" I laughed before saying goodbye and starting in on some paperwork.
Lunch rolled around and I made my way down to the Applied Sciences to visit Bruce like he'd asked. When I entered the floor, Bruce was standing by taking inventory of some products. And by taking inventory, I mean playing around with them.
"Oy! You're going to break those!" I scolded, smirking. He didn't even flinch.
"Am not," he muttered.
"What did you need me for? It looks like you've got a lot on your plate," I ribbed.
"Funny, Lane. Real funny," he sneered. He took my hand and led me over to where Lucius sat at his desk.
"Well, what is it today? More spelunking?" he asked, removing his glasses.
"No, today it's BASE jumping," Bruce smirked.
"BASE jumping," Lucius said calmly.
"BASE jumping?" I asked, "That like… parachuting?" Bruce nodded.
"Kind of. Do you have any… lightweight fabrics?" Lucius thought for a moment, before he smiled.
"You know, I think I have just the thing," he motioned for us to follow him as he picked up a small container and set it on a table. He unlatched it and yanked out a black fabric.
"It's called memory cloth. Notice anything?" We both shrugged. Lucius smirked as he pulled on a black glove.
"Regularly flexible," he began; straightening the cloth out, "but put a current through it…" he pressed a button on the glove and placed it close to the fabric, which jumped up at the touch,"…molecules realign, it becomes rigid."
"What kind of shapes can you make?" Bruce asked, running his hands over the popped up fabric.
"Can be tailored to fit any structure based on a rigid skeleton," Lucius said.
"Too expensive for the army?"
"I don't think they tried to market it to the billionaire, spelunking, BASE jumping crowd," he joked, smiling. Bruce turned slightly in towards him, serious now.
"Look, Mr. Fox…"
"Yes sir?" Lucius also turned, giving Bruce his undivided attention. I'll admit, it was odd to hear an older man like Lucius refer to Bruce as anything superior.
"If you're uncomfortable…" Bruce started again, but Lucius stopped him again.
"Mr. Wayne, if you don't want to tell me exactly what you're doing: when I'm asked, I don't have to lie. But don't think of me as an idiot." The look he gave us was stern, serious. I scoffed internally. Lucius Fox was far from an idiot.
"Fair enough," the two of them nodded before Bruce nonchalantly turned his head to the left.
"What's that?" he asked nodding. We turned and all I could see were two giant wheels under a black tarp. No. Freaking. Way.
"The Tumbler?" Lucius smirked, "Oh, you wouldn't be interested in that."
Which was how the three of us found our way to the trial room, specially formed to test the equipment made in Applied Sciences, and piling into the giant tank-like vehicle. Lucky for me, there was a tiny backseat that only one person could fit into. Bruce helped me into it before jumping into the driver's seat. The engine roared and we took off, practically flying around the room.
"She was built as a bridging vehicle. During combat, two of these would jump over a river towing cables," Lucius explained over the loud roaring of the Tumbler's engine. Bruce didn't seem to hear him, throttling it harder and grinning. I was slightly scared of the animated glint in his eyes.
"Over here, on the throttle, flip that up and throttle up: this will boost you into a ramp less jump-not now!" It was too late. Bruce had eagerly pressed the red button, sending all of us flying back hard into our seats.
"Bruce! Slow down!" I screamed, clutching the back of his seat in terror. Lucius removed Bruce's hand and disengaged the throttle.
"Not-not now, sir," he warned. A cool female voice announced that the afterburner had disengaged. Bruce laughed, giving Lucius and I a look. I clutched the material of the seat next to me harder before glaring at him.
"We never could get the damn bridge to work but… this baby works just fine," Lucius chuckled. Bruce jerked the wheel and we came skidding to a stop. He breathed out loudly and ran his hand across the wheel tenderly.
"So, what do you think?" Lucius asked, smiling. Bruce just grinned at him.
"Does it come in black?" he asked. I scoffed and rolled my eyes.
"Okay, backseat girl wants out now!" I fairly yelled, slapping Bruce's shoulder. He opened the hatch before jumping out and helping me stand. I was slightly wobbly and felt my knees begin to give way when suddenly; Bruce scooped me up into his arms.
"You okay there?" he asked, concerned. I nodded.
"Just need to get my sea legs," I joked. Instead of letting me down like I thought we would, he carried me back to Lucius' desk and sat me in the chair.
"I'm fine, really," I protested, "but just for future reference; I won't be riding in that backseat unless it's life or death." The men chuckled.
That was where we said our goodbyes, Bruce offering to walk me up to my floor.
"I won't be able to bring you home tonight," he said, pressing the button to my floor. I gave him a quizzical look.
"Why?" I asked.
"There's some…business…I need to take care of tonight," he emphasized, eyeing the woman entering the elevator carefully. I caught his meaning and nodded.
"Alright, I'll just let Alfred know to come pick me up," I said, quietly. When the doors slid open, he took my waist and led me to my desk.
"I'll see you tonight," he whispered, kissing my cheek gently.
"See you," I murmured back, palming his cheek and smiling up at him. He grinned a lopsided smile and strolled away. I hadn't sat in my chair for two seconds before Jessica pounced, accusing eyes trained on me.
"What the hell?" she demanded, "Did Bruce Wayne of all people just kiss you?"
"Will you quiet down?" I shushed, hurriedly, swiveling around to make sure no one heard her.
"Delaney Martin, are you sleeping with him?" she hissed, eyes widening. I scowled.
"It was peck on the cheek, for God's sake," I growled, "and no I'm not sleeping with him!"
"He looked pretty happy for just a 'peck on the cheek,'" she raised an eyebrow, "and so did you. What's going on between you two?"
"Nothing! Nothing is going on between Bruce and I!" I shrieked, beginning to feel my anger flare up.
"Okay," she said skeptically. I groaned.
"Look, just… don't say anything about that around here. If it gets out to the press…"
"I got it, Del. Don't freak out." She still gave me an I know there's something else look, but thankfully returned to her desk. I in turn sat back at mine and stewed over what she'd said.
All my life, Bruce and I had been affectionate to each other. Other than the one kiss in Paris, we had never felt anything other than pure friendship. I'd never thought that our fondness for each other would look so odd to others. It was just something I was used to.
Did it look like there was something else there? Something that neither of us was aware of? I decided not to puzzle over it too much and turned back to my work.
After running errands and putting the documents to go public in order all day, I literally fell into the Rolls when Alfred pulled up to the curb.
"Long day, Miss?" he chuckled.
"You have no idea," I muttered.
After changing into some comfy sweats and a sweatshirt, I moseyed down to the kitchen and filched a bite of chicken and rice from where Alfred was stationed. He swiped at my hand and scolded me until we both heard footsteps anxiously making their way towards us.
"Laney? Laney!" came Bruce's uneasy voice. Quickly I sprinted out of the kitchen and almost ran into his hard chest. He caught my arms easily and steadied me. I noticed he was in the same outfit from his first day back when he'd gone to spy on Rachel at the courthouse.
"What's wrong? What happened?" I asked urgently.
"It's Rachel," he growled, taking my wrist and dragging me towards the study. I let myself be towed there, trying to understand why he was so worried over Rachel. He pried open the secret entrance we hadn't had time to securely lock yet and we hopped onto the elevator and rode down to the cave.
"What do you mean Rachel? Is she okay?" I asked, thanking my lucky stars I'd thought to worn slippers. Bruce rattled around by one of the tables before coming back with a set of speakers that he promptly plugged a small recording device he'd fished from his pocket into.
"I need you at the docks Thursday," came a raspy voice. I gasped.
"Is that…Falcone?" I asked in utter shock. Bruce hushed me before I turned my attention back to the conversation.
"Problems?" asked another, smoother voice. My fists clenched.
"Flass," I muttered. Bruce gave me a stiff nod, his brown eyes flashing dangerously.
"I don't want any trouble," Falcone continued, "with the last shipment."
"Sure." Flass sighed, "Word on the street is you got a beef with someone in the D.A's office…"
"Is that right?" Falcone interrupted.
"…And that there's a fat prize waiting for anybody willing to do anything about it."
"So what's your point, Mr. Flass?" he asked. There was a small pause.
"Have you seen the girl?" A stiffened. They were talking about Rachel, "It's a cute little assistant D.A. Don't you think that's a little too much heat to bring down, maybe? Even for this town."
"Never underestimate Gotham City," Falcone said ominously, "People get mugged coming home from work every day of the week. Sometimes-sometimes things just go bad." The audio cut out and I stared at Bruce, watching his expression.
His face was tight with hidden emotion. His mouth was in a firm line and his arms were crossed securely across his chest, making his biceps bulge. His eyes were dark with fury and I found myself flinch slightly as they met mine.
The tension around us was stifling. The cliché 'you could cut it with a knife' suddenly made perfect sense in that moment. My mind raced around what to say to him and it could only settle on, "What do we do?"
Bruce glided over to a newly installed computer base and pecked at the keys for a moment.
"After I left the restaurant, I started to put these up," he held out his hand and I gingerly made my way over to him to see what looked like little black bugs in his palms.
"Pod Cams," I realized, recognizing the Applied Sciences prototype I'd helped Lucius log not too long ago. He nodded.
"A lot of them were installed to help the police keep tabs on the Narrows a while back before some of them started malfunctioning. Or so they thought," he entered a few more digits into the computer and suddenly, a street in the narrows popped up on the screen showing what looked like a drug deal going on.
"How did you get the IP addresses? The police force wouldn't even sell them back to us to fix them," I asked.
"Doesn't matter," he said, which to me sounded like code for hacked, "What matters is that we have eyes on the entire city including the docks and bridges that Falcone might use to make his drug shipment."
"Wait, we?" I asked, catching the key word. He stared straight into my eyes, slightly unnerving me.
"Laney, I need your help. You have to stay here while I go out there. I need to have eyes on Falcone and Rachel and anyone else who might want to cause trouble. Can you do that?" I broke our gaze and looked back at the monitor where the deal had been made and both parties walked away.
Bruce was asking me to help him protect Gotham. I'd never understood his plans before now, when Falcone so blatantly threatened someone he cared about so much. Now I knew that Bruce was beginning to take on the mask of a guardian of sorts, hell bent on keeping the streets of Gotham clean and somewhat safe. And he was asking me to lend a hand. It occurred to me that this would be dangerous-for him and myself. If he was found out, it could be mine and Alfred's-and Lucius'-lives on the line.
With unwavering determination, I brought my gaze back to his and nodded.
"Absolutely."
When Alfred came downstairs later to ask us why we hadn't come back up for dinner, he found me at the computer bay downloading software for the Pod Cams and Bruce at the belt grinder, smoothing out the edges of something he'd been working on. We'd been like that, working in blissful silence to try and complete his suit in time to intercept Falcone's shipment, for the past hour. Alfred made his way in front of the workstation as Bruce turned off the machine and pushed his glasses up. He sat back, admiring his work.
"Why bats, Master Wayne?" Alfred asked flatly. I got off the stool and peered over Alfred's shoulder to see.
It was a bat, cut from a sheet of steel and smooth along the edges. The tips of its wing span were sharp, no doubt useful in taking down thugs.
"Bats frighten me," Bruce said simply, "It's time my enemies shared my dread." He turned slightly and launched it cleanly through the air where it neatly lodged itself into a hunk of rock.
A/N: So that poll I posted got some great feedback and the result is that: No, Delaney should not continue to date Christian. BUT! I'm not one of those Authors who say 'Hey, it's so many chapters in, let's make a relationship!' Umm...no. I promise that there will be a little Bruce/Delaney but I really want to build it up. It just seems right to let them feel it out themselves. Anyway, thanks for the feedback and just a side not, if you are a guest, you should leave your name or something so I can thank you a little more personally. It doesn't do you justice when all I know you as is 'Guest'. I'll be back when I can! ~Brooke