Scars and Tattoos

A/N: I must say that the reviews that keep coming are amazing! I am proud to have readers like you guys! I hope I don't dissapoint with this chapter :D Enjoy!

Bruce walked into is room after a tiring night and shed the Batsuit with a sigh, his muscles were sore and protested with the slightest movement. He tossed the cowl onto an armchair beside his bed as he sat down on the edge of the king sized mattress and fell back against the red silk sheets.

His eyelids started to close slowly before Alfred's voice broke his peace and startled him enough to shoot off of the bed. He pulled on some black sweats before racing out to see what the commotion was about.

"Miss Van Buren, I strongly suggest you lie down and get some rest, there is no need to push your body like this," the old butler told her as he walked beside the young woman who was using the wall as support to walk away from him.

"Alfred…I'm sorry, but I feel useless lying down on the bed when I know I can get a glass of water myself," she told him struggling to hold herself up as she leaned her body up against the wall and took deep breaths.

She had never had anyone pamper her as much as the old butler did, and it felt wrong to order him around. She felt useless watching him run around the house and cater to her every need, she had never been filthy rich and therefore she had never had a butler. She felt horrible when she asked for something and he returned seconds later with it.

"Miss Van Buren, it is of no trouble to me…you are only going to cause harm to yourself if you keep going," he told her as she winced and held her stomach. She breathed heavily and tried to think of anything but the pain as she pushed herself off of the wall and continued to walk once more.

"I've…never had anyone do anything for me," she explained as she rested against the wall once more and whimpered when the searing pain returned full force. She could already hear her brother in her head telling her to suck it up and stop being so weak. All of her life her sibling and her father had constantly told her that she had to do things herself, they had made sure to hammer that into her head.

"It may take a while to get used to Miss, but it is my job, I have no other priorities but to watch after you and make sure you do not harm yourself over something like this," he told her as she slid down the wall with tears in her eyes. The pain was beyond description at that point.

The cold wooden floor greeted her as she placed her right palm against it and struggled to control her body. Her arms shook uncontrollably by that time and the cut on her stomach burned like nothing she had ever felt before.

"Your brother was right, you're too stubborn for your own good," Bruce commented as he walked out of his room after observing everything from the doorway. He made sure to close the door behind him as he walked over to the woman who sat on the floor in front of his butler.

"Master Wayne, I tried to persuade her," the butler told the billionaire as he nodded and looked at the young tattooer who remained unmoving. His lips tugged upwards into a smile when he noticed she didn't have any tattoos of her own, something rather odd when you worked in that profession.

"I'm sorry…for causing this much trouble," she told them as Alfred turned to look at Bruce and shook his head hopelessly. She was just like him when he had to recover from an injury, the butler would argue with him endlessly in order to keep him in his bed for more than a day.

"Apologize later, let's get you back into bed," Bruce told her as he crouched down and helped her up. She let a shaky breath out as Bruce wrapped an arm around her in order to hold her up and guide her back.

The playboy found the woman in his hold fascinating, any other woman would have jumped at the chance of being so close to him when he was shirtless, she kept her distance from him and used his arm for balance when she needed it.

He led her over to the bed once more while helping her with the mass of covers and pillows. She winced here and there when she moved her side too much but soon found a comfortable position as she snuggled closer to the comforter and pillow.

Bruce sat beside her on the armchair beside the nightstand when Alfred threw him a warning glance. Bruce got the message and nodded back as the butler closed the door behind him and went off to find the medicine that the doctor had left behind.

"You're an odd tattoo artist…you have none on you," Bruce told her as she looked at him with half lidded eyes. She would have smiled if the pain she was feeling wasn't so distracting. She got asked and teased about that subject a lot.

"You're an odd business man…you have a cut on your side," she pointed out with her hand as she rose it up in a lazy fashion to point at the spot she was referring to. Bruce would have face palmed had he been able to. If she wasn't in the state in which she found herself in he had no doubt that she would have pushed the subject further.

After all, what kind of business man had fresh scars all over his body?

Much to Bruce's relief Alfred came in with pills and a glass of water on a silver platter which helped ease his nerves. He walked over to the side of the bed she was facing and handed her the pills before setting the tray down and helped her up. She put them in her mouth and reached for the glass of water with a shaky had as she swallowed them with a frown on her face.

"That should help with the pain, if you need anything else do not hesitate to call, miss," Alfred told her as he took the tray into his arms and walked out of the room once more. He knew Bruce wouldn't leave until he was sure she wouldn't get up again, he saw no reason for him to remain there as well when he could be doing something more productive around the mansion.

"Enlighten me, why would you want a job when you already have one?" Bruce asked as she struggled to keep her eyes open. She looked at him tiredly before frowning once more.

"I can't afford a place for my artists to work in…the place that opened up is expensive…I'm working on getting the remaining money in order for them to start tattooing again, they have families that depend on them, the longer I take the longer they struggle to maintain themselves," she told him slurring the last part as sleep finally got the better of her.

She rested her head against one of the many pillows and sighed as she pulled the comforter up to her neck. Bruce's brow furrowed in confusion, she had failed to mention herself when she had answered him. It was always about someone other than herself.

He found himself chuckling slightly when he looked at her disheveled appearance. Her hair stuck out in odd directions, a couple of strands defying gravity, he didn't even think hair was capable of maintaining that form.

He stood up from his chair and walked towards the door after making sure that she was sleeping as he left the room and closed the door behind him. He walked into the kitchen to find Alfred preparing a cup of coffee for him before the butler turned to look at Bruce.

"She is an interesting young lady," Alfred commented as he handed Bruce the coffee and turned to clean the kitchen counter top. Bruce sighed in agreement and sipped the coffee before looking out at Gotham through the large glass window a few feet away.

"She's observant too, she noticed the cut on my side," Bruce commented as Alfred turned to look at the billionaire with a concerned look. "It's not that bad, Alfred," he added once he saw the old butler worrying over him.

"Master Wayne, the last time you said that you needed 20 stitches," the butler told him as he moved sideways to get a good look at said cut. The butler grimaced when he saw the wound that was barely starting to clog as he motioned for Bruce to follow him.

"Alfred it isn't bad enough to raise concern," Bruce called after his butler as the older man stopped and turned to look at him.

"At the very least allow me to disinfect it, you of all people should know what infection can do," he told the playboy as Bruce sighed and rose from the kitchen stool and walked after the butler who turned and continued to walk.

Bruce sat on the large couch in the living room as he waited for his butler to come back with the supplies that he had gone off to fetch. Sure enough Alfred came back with several items in his arms which he placed in an orderly fashion on the coffee table in front of Bruce. The billionaire grimaced when he was the bottle of disinfectant.

The butler applied some of the liquid on a cloth before he reached over to Bruce.

"May I ask what happened this time, Master Wayne," Alfred told him as Bruce hissed when the disinfectant cloth touched the cut.

"Joker and his knives, same thing every time," Bruce answered hissing again when Alfred applied more disinfectant to the cloth before resuming his task.

"You have never come home from a scuffle with the clown with a cut of this magnitude, however," the butler told him as Bruce nodded. As much as he hated to admit it, Alfred was right. He couldn't explain how he had allowed Joker to get in a good swipe at him. Perhaps he had been distracted, or perhaps the clown was getting faster, he couldn't fathom how it had happened.

"You will have to be more careful, Master Wayne," Alfred told him as he continued to disinfect the deep cut, "I do not know how much more of this your body will take," the butler told him as Bruce looked away from him and continued to glance out of the window in an effort to distract himself.

After a few minutes Alfred packed up the supplies and gathered them in his arms once more before walking away leaving Bruce on the couch as the billionaire stood and walked over to the large windows in his mansion.

"Did you manage to get any information from the clown, Master Wayne?" Alfred asked when he came back and stood beside Bruce.

"Nothing but the ravings of a madman, I can only assume that whatever he wants from her is nothing good," Bruce answered as Alfred nodded and looked down at the city from the vantage point in which they were in.

"You are aware that she will not be wanting to stay here any longer than she needs to, are you not, Master Wayne?" the butler asked as Bruce nodded, he had assumed that as well. He would just have to make sure that her brother took extra precaution with her.

As long as the Joker had his eye on her she wouldn't be able to step outside without several men accompanying her. Even then Bruce had his doubts, after all the clown had gotten past the last two bodyguards that she had been with.

"I won't be needing you for the rest of the evening, Alfred, feel free to rest," Bruce told him as he headed for his room, the events of the night before had drained the little energy that he had. All he needed at the moment was to rest. "Let me know when she wakes," he told his butler as the older man nodded and watched the billionaire close the door behind him.

The butler merely shook his head; the woman in the other room had already sealed her fate when she crossed paths with the clown. Alfred wondered how long it would be until they clashed with each other once more, for he knew that it was bound to happen no matter how many bodyguards she had around her.

The old butler shook his head before turning away from the city of Gotham; he walked away and started to clean the mansion up again before either of the two sleeping bodies woke.

A butler's work was never done.

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