Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing related to Batman and that universe. Only original characters are mine.
AN: Oh, my gosh, thanks so much for your wonderful reviews! Yes, Amara is insane for not wanting to vacation with Bruce, but remember, they've known each other for about a week, so you can see her dilemma here, right? Okay, maybe not, considering how hot he is, but for our poor librarian, vacationing with a stranger is a tad unusual for her, so, you know. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter and will review!
Chapter 10: Getting Away From It All:
After the library had been thoroughly combed over by the police, the bomb squad, and their dogs, Commissioner Gordon himself called up Bruce's penthouse and asked to speak with Amara. The head of the Gotham Police Department had been told where she was staying by the billionaire himself, and knew that he would have to keep her location secret.
"Mr. Wayne is right about no one else knowing where you are presently living, Miss Thomas," Gordon said to her through the phone. "As much as I hate to say it, The Joker may be insane, but he's smart, too, and if there's a more dangerous person than a mad genius, I can't think of one."
His instructions for her were exactly like Bruce's and Batman's: she needed to get out of town for a while. "Not permanently," Gordon quickly reassured her, "and not if you don't want to, of course, but for a week or two at least. Go someplace that'll distract you from what's happening here. It doesn't matter where that is."
With three men –four, if you counted Alfred– working against her, Amara knew she had no choice in the matter. With a billionaire, his butler, a masked vigilante, and a police commissioner telling you that you'd be safer someplace else, it was probably a good idea to do what they said.
And speaking of billionaires, it was good to have one on your side when calling in for some last-minute time off. Mrs. Wilson always required a month's notice before signing off on requested vacation time. However, since Amara had the library's foremost benefactor in her corner (and on the phone with her), she was able to get the next two weeks off with little trouble.
"But I don't want you making anymore calls on my behalf," she told Bruce when they both hung up with Mrs. Wilson. "You've already done more than enough for me."
Of course, Amara knew he wouldn't listen. He never did, and she had the strangest feeling that he liked breaking –or, at least bending– the rules for her. Using his influence over the library had been a blatant display of just how powerful and important Bruce Wayne was in Gotham City, and Amara couldn't help but feel guilty at having him use it. It wasn't her style to have someone perform such a huge favor because she needed time out of town.
"Don't worry about it," Bruce assured her, putting his arm around her shoulders in a comforting manner. "You more than deserve this. Not only did you manage to escape The Joker once, but you also went back to work the very next day, a time when most women would have been barricading themselves in their apartments, swearing never to come out again."
"He's right, Miss," Alfred said as he entered the room, a silver tray bearing a pitcher of milk, three empty glasses, and small cucumber sandwiches in his hands. "You were very brave and stubborn to go to work so quickly, and to insist on staying there after another dramatic encounter with that madman. You truly deserve some time to think of yourself and your health, both mental and physical."
Dang it, she knew they were right, but her family had always taught her what they considered to be good work and life ethics. According to her mom and dad, a good worker always did their best and worked their hardest at everything. They were only supposed to call in sick when it was a serious illness or injury, and never played hooky just because they could.
To Amara, taking this vacation was going against everything she had been taught and truly believed in. Unless she was very sick with a cold or the flu, she never missed work, always coming in on time and leaving just a few minutes after it was time to go. Time off for vacations tended to be booked far in advance, and she worked hard because she hated it when people didn't pull their weight. Too many times had Amara seen others take advantage of the benefits of their jobs, and she had seen how it had angered her parents when their coworkers did the same thing. It was a lesson well-learned, and with that lesson came the fact that if you worked hard and put yourself forward, a person could move up from where they had started. Suddenly jumping into a vacation went against her deeply rooted work ethics; however, these were unusual circumstances, and adjustments had to be made for her own good.
'Besides, it's been a while since I've gone somewhere for fun,' Amara thought as she took a seat on the couch.
Putting a cucumber sandwich to her lips, she noticed Bruce taking a place on her right while Alfred took a seat across from her, which was surprising. The older man almost never sat with them for any reason.
With her gut telling her that something was up, Amara was tempted to put the food down, but when her stomach complained of being empty, she took a bite of the little sandwich instead. It was extremely light, the bread and cucumber sliced so thin it weighed little more than a roll of paper. The refreshing taste helped clear her head and mouth, and was very tasty, so when she had finished with one, she helped herself to another, her eyes darting between the two men.
"So," Alfred said, his own eyes looking from his employer to her. "I suppose what we should do next is decide on where you two will be going."
"Three," Amara corrected him. "I want you to come too, Alfred. I won't leave you here in an empty place while Bruce and I are off somewhere else. It doesn't seem right."
From his seat beside her, Bruce nodded. "She's right. I don't want to leave you behind, either, so it'll be the three of us going. But where we're going is the main question."
"Should we go to another continent?" Alfred asked. "Europe, perhaps, or maybe Asia?"
Amara shook her head. "No, nowhere overseas," she said firmly. "That's something fugitives do, or what I always imagine them doing. How about something close by, or at least inside the U.S.?"
The three of them went quiet with thought.
There were many places in the U.S. that Bruce could take Amara, but only a select few that were far away from Gotham and where he was sure that she would have a good time.
New York sprang to mind, but he didn't like the image of a large city bringing back thoughts of Gotham. All other large and impressively cold cities were immediately eliminated from the mental list he was building.
'Nowhere too cold,' he thought, 'but maybe someplace warm and tropical would do.'
California came to mind, but it was too polluted in the cities and the areas around them, and far too bustling for the rest and relaxation that Bruce had in mind. There was Florida, too, but he didn't like the fact that it was famous for its hurricanes and swamps.
'Hmm, tropical, warm, blue water,' he mentally ticked off in his brain. Where did that leave?
Of course, why didn't he think of it before? His parents had bought a place there after they had gotten married, but almost never used it. He himself had never gone, but it had a reputation of being a beautiful and ideal place to vacation.
"We're going to Hawaii," Bruce said out loud.
Amara's jaw dropped. "We're what?" she deadpanned.
Bruce chuckled. "We're going to Hawaii," he said, repeating his previous statement.
"Why there?" She was still trying to imagine how incredibly expensive it would be to travel to and stay at the island state.
Meanwhile, Alfred was nodding. "Oh, yes, I'd almost forgotten," he quipped. "Mr. Wayne's parents purchased a rather nice summer home there, but never really got the chance to go back. It's still there, and waiting for you, sir."
"But Hawaii?" squeaked Amara. "Isn't that a bit, well, far away? Like, on the other side of the country? What about the plane tickets there?"
Bruce looked at her as though she'd lost her mind. "We won't be buying plane tickets," he slowly replied, as though she weren't that bright.
She rolled her eyes. "Then how will we get there, hitchhike?" she snapped. "And stop acting as though I'm as dumb as the girls you usually talk with."
Bruce grinned. "Sorry," he apologized. "But we don't need tickets. Why would we when we can take my private plane there?"
Bruce knew all of this was moving too quickly for Amara to process. The dazed and confused look in her eyes assured him that she was very much off-balance, her brain struggling to process all of what he and Alfred had just finished planning out for their departure.
They would leave under cover of darkness, with Alfred driving them to the airport, where there would be someone at the tarmac to take the car back to the penthouse after the three of them had boarded the plane. They would then fly nonstop to Oahu, where they would get a car and Alfred would drive them to the Wayne Hawaiian home.
"I'll be studying maps of the area on the way there, and seeing what there is for you to do around the islands," the older man had told Amara, who was looking more lost every minute.
What happened after they settled in was to remain up-in-the-air. No matter what, though, Bruce would be there to make it happen.
"Swim with dolphins or whatever you want," he said as he escorted her to her room to pack. "Do all the tourist activities, and if you want to try something different, let me know. It's all open to you."
And he was going to do them all, too.
Yes, it was risky for him, as Batman, to leave Gotham for too long, but with his alter ego still a fugitive on the run from the cops, it might be a good idea for him to get away, too.
'Besides, the police are getting better at handling the usual crime, and I doubt The Joker has anything planned, since he hates that sort of thinking.'
It was time for Batman to take a little time to himself and enjoy it with someone who needed to forget that terrible things could happen to good people. Who knows, he might get to know Amara a bit better in the process, and how could he not enjoy something like that?
Hovering over her bags, Amara looked around at the scattered clothes and wondered about this new turn in her life. Honestly, how does a girl go from living alone and eating frozen dinners to housing with a hot billionaire?
'And now I'm going on vacation with him!' she thought, shaking her head in amazement.
If her parents knew about this, Amara knew she'd never hear the end of it. Her mother was old-fashioned, the sort who thought that a woman should only vacation with men who were either her spouse or her relatives. Though her father was a bit more liberal, he was also very protective of his little girl, and would likely have tried to strangle poor Bruce for suggesting the idea of them going on vacation together.
Glancing down at the bed, she couldn't help but sigh. 'I'm going to travel with a billionaire in his private plane,' she thought in disbelief. 'Then we'll be going to a private home that his parents bought years ago. Julie would be screaming with joy at this opportunity. Meanwhile, I'm trying to figure out how to get out of it!'
Amara hadn't been joking when she'd told Bruce that he'd already done too much for her. Shelter, clothes, food, safe transportation to work everyday; what more could she ask for? And now he wanted to take her on an all-expense-paid trip to Hawaii?
Hawaii! What person hasn't imagined traveling to the tropical paradise, a place filled with exotic animals, plants, and fruits? Palm trees were something she had only seen in magazines or expensive hotels, where they were almost always in pots in the lobby. Plus, the food in Hawaii was supposed to be amazing.
'And it's going to be very warm,' Amara remembered. Well, it was in a tropical area, after all, and where else would palm trees grow?
Her problem now was finding clothes that were suitable for those temperatures. Gotham City tended to be rather dark, cool, and intimidating, thanks to the tall buildings that stood everywhere. It could get warmer in summer, but with the shade provided by the skyscrapers, it was hard for the warmth to reach the streets themselves.
Looking at the clothes scattered around the bed and the rest of the room, Amara knew it was a hopeless cause. Everything she had brought from her apartment and that she had purchased lately were all work-related, and those that were meant for a weekend or casual outings would not be a good idea to wear in hot weather.
"Are you all packed, Miss Amara?" asked a cockney, English-accented voice.
Turning, she gave Alfred a hopeless look. "Uh, no, not really," she said, her voice apologetic. "All of my warmer weather clothes are stored away, so I don't have anything to bring."
The old man chuckled. "No worries, Miss," he assured her, "I'm sure that Master Bruce can arrange to have some clothing waiting for you when we arrive in Hawaii. It should be no trouble."
"I thought I heard my name," called a voice from the doorway. "What are you two saying about me this time?"
Amara giggled. "We weren't really talking about you," she said with a smile. "Alfred was just saying that since I don't have any summer clothes, I would have to buy some when we get there."
Bruce took a quick look around the room, his eyes widening in surprise at what he saw. "Wow, we really do need to take you on a serious shopping spree when we get back," he muttered. "Before that, though, we need to get you some clothes before we board the plane later tonight."
She felt herself go pale. "Tonight?" When had that been decided on?
"It's best if we leave as soon as possible," Bruce told her. "We need to get out of Gotham before something else happens. I want you safely away from here before the sun comes up."
Meanwhile, Alfred had a thoughtful look on his face. "I suppose we could stop at a few inexpensive stores as we head to the airport," he said. "The clothes they carry might not be the best, but if you get one or two cheap shirts, they should last until we can make it to the shops in Oahu."
Bruce shook his head. "I don't want us stopping anywhere. Have one of our most trusted people pick up a few shirts in Amara's size, preferably in light colors, and have them meet us at the airport."
Alfred nodded, quickly leaving the room to carry out his orders.
Bruce turned towards her. "Pack whatever else you might need," he said while heading out the door. "We've got at least three or four hours, so take your time."
Left alone with her thoughts, Amara felt her mind begin to spin. Bruce had people to do things for him? That was too weird to even think of! She really couldn't imagine someone standing around, waiting for orders from their boss at all hours of the day. Didn't it get annoying for them? What if a call came in at midnight or something?
Shaking her head, Amara began creating a mental checklist of things to put into her waiting luggage.
Everything was packed just as the sun was sinking below the horizon. Bruce was taking enough to fill a small pack, but knew he would be coming home with much more than that. Oahu was full of the best designer shops the fashion world had to offer, and it had been a while since he'd shopped for himself. Besides, he wanted his wardrobe to match Amara's, and Bruce had every intention of being with her as she shopped until she dropped.
When full darkness fell, Bruce and Alfred secured the penthouse and escorted Amara downstairs, each of them holding one bag that contained enough to get them through perhaps one or two days. Since the flight was going to be at least nine to twelve hours long, their present clothing could last until they landed. When they did, they would change into clothes more appropriate for the tropical weather before heading out. After that, they would all shop for new attire.
The ride to the airport was silent and rather tense. Amara stared out the window and watched the buildings pass, her eyes full of worry as she clenched her hands in nervousness. Feeling pity for the poor girl, Bruce reached over and took one of her hands in his. Startled, she turned, her fingers unintentionally gripping his even tighter.
"Oh, sorry," she said, trying to let go.
Bruce simply firmed his hold on her hand. "It's okay," he soothed. "Calm down. We'll be out of the city within a couple of hours, and out of the state within three. Don't worry."
Amara gave him a shaky smile. "I can't help it," she whispered. "What if The Joker decides to go after Julie next, just so he can try to find out where I've gone?"
He easily had the answer to this. "The Commissioner has his most trusted people keeping an eye on Julie and her place," Bruce said in his most assuring tone. "If The Joker tries anything, they'll move in and take her to a safe location. Everything that needs to be covered is being done right now."
Though that didn't seem to completely sooth her nerves, it was enough to make her relax just a tiny bit. However, as the car continued on its way, Bruce couldn't help but notice that she didn't let go of his hand.
When they arrived at the airport, Amara felt her stomach leap, then drop to her feet. A private plane awaited them, and after Bruce assisted her out of the car, she realized she hadn't released his hand.
Blushing, she quickly did so. "Sorry," she muttered as Alfred came forward to take her bag.
As the older man carried his own bag and Amara's aboard, leaving Bruce carrying his own, another gentleman emerged from the plane and came forward. He was tall, African-American, with white hair and a warm smile.
"Mister Wayne," he said in a kind voice. "Everything is in place. I doubt anyone will know you're gone for at least a few days, and if anything comes up that needs your attention, I'll call you up immediately."
Bruce smiled and nodded. "Thanks, Lucius," he said, taking the man's hand. "Make sure someone from our security team is keeping an eye on Miss Julia Hanson, would you? She's a volunteer worker at the library, and Miss Thomas's friend, so I'd really appreciate it."
"Will do," Lucius replied. "Have a good trip, Miss Thomas."
In minutes, he was in the car and driving away, leaving her standing on the tarmac with her mouth open in astonishment. Beside her, Bruce chuckled and reached over to close her gaping jaw.
"Who was that?" she quietly asked.
"Lucius Fox, an old and trusted friend of the family," Bruce told her. "He'll make sure that Julie is looked after, and that no one realizes I'm gone for a while. That way we aren't connected in any way, and no one will suspect anything. Now, are you ready to get onboard? The crew's probably getting impatient to take off, since we don't have that big of a departure window."
She gave a squeak of alarm as she ran for the steps leading up to the doorway. Alfred reached down and helped her up into the plane, giving her a wink of encouragement as he ushered her along.
The first section of the plane seemed designated for the flight crew and the flight attendants. There were comfortable chairs for the flight attendants, microwaves, a small refrigerator, and other things that were to help make and serve refreshments. It was also fairly spacious, almost like a small room instead of half a cubical like on commercial airplanes.
"Come along, Miss; into the main area with you," whispered Alfred.
Gently, he pushed her into the main cabin, or at least, where the main cabin was on most planes. When she was three feet inside, Amara felt her jaw drop again.
It was a very lush and beautiful cabin. Expensive woods, fabrics, crystal and glass were everywhere. There was a mini-bar to one side, with sparkling glasses in a small cabinet over it. Close to the refreshments were two lounging chairs that were heavily cushioned, complete with matching footrests, which had elegant tables on either side of them. On the wall opposite the chairs hung a flat-screen television, beneath which sat a small cabinet with a DVD player on top.
On the other side of the cabin was a large couch. Before the couch was a glass-topped coffee table decorated with frosted designs; in the center of the table was a basket of fresh flowers. Tables stood on either side of the couch as well, each with a lamp so that someone could stretch out with a good book or a workload. Near the couch were two upholstered chairs with seatbelts dangling from the sides.
"There's more in the back," Bruce said, coming up behind her. "You see that the doorway over there? That leads to a very short hallway. The first door on your left is the bathroom aboard, which is much bigger than any you'll see on a public airplane. Beyond that is the bedroom, where there's a nice bed waiting for you when you're tired."
Her head was spinning. "There's a bedroom onboard?" The rich certainly knew how to live!
A hand rested on her shoulder. "Sit down and buckle in," Bruce gently instructed.
Amara obediently took a seat on the couch and found one of the seatbelts hidden under the cushions. Bruce took a seat beside her and followed her example while Alfred took a seat in one of the chairs by the couch.
Half an hour later, they were airborne. When the plane leveled out, a male flight attendant in a black uniform emerged from the front, bearing a pad of paper in his hands and a friendly smile on his handsome face.
"Would you like anything to drink, Miss?" he asked. "Soda, water, coffee, anything?"
"Actually, feel free to break out the champagne," Bruce said from beside her. "And dinner, if you please. I'm sure she's quite famished."
The flight attendant nodded and headed off, once again leaving the three of them alone.
"Champagne?" Amara drawled, turning to look at Bruce. "And dinner? The most I usually get on a flight is a can of soda and those snack boxes they sell, which really aren't very filling."
Alfred chuckled. "Welcome to the life of the privileged," he said. "Supper should be good, if I'm any judge. What did you order for tonight and tomorrow morning, sir?"
"Italian for tonight," Bruce answered as the flight attendant came back out, a bottle of champagne and three glasses atop a tray. "I think we'll be having fresh fruit tomorrow, at least."
"That would be correct, sir," said the attendant as he served them their drinks. "The appetizer tray should be ready shortly."
Dinner tasted as though it had been made in an authentic Italian restaurant and brought onboard, which is what Amara felt must have happened. It was immediately followed by dessert, which consisted of Italian sorbets in three different flavors served in a Martini glass. When the dishes had been cleared away, she, Bruce and Alfred relaxed with a few hours of reading and music from the sound system that was in the cabinet under the television.
Before she knew it, Amara felt the day catch up with her. Her eyelids began to droop, and once she felt herself begin to fall over in exhaustion, she told Bruce she was going to head off to sleep.
Ever the gentleman, Bruce himself led her to the bedroom at the rear of the plane. It was remarkably quiet, considering the engines were so close by, so she couldn't complain. The bed was king-size, and very inviting. Her bag was already perched on one of the small tables, and the moment Bruce left her alone, Amara changed into a nightgown she had brought with her.
Much to her surprise, there was a plastic bag on the bed. Inside were a few sets of short-sleeved cotton shirts just her size, and in colors of white, blue, and pale peach, perfect for where they were heading. These she stored in her modest luggage case.
Another thing that astonished her was that there was another bathroom attached to the bedroom, probably for private use before bed. The bathroom was larger than expected, and she was able to move around without crashing into anything.
With her senses overloaded, Amara fell into bed, turned out the light, and was asleep in seconds.
It was after midnight when Bruce decided to turn in for the night, and he felt rather naughty about not telling Amara that they would be sharing the same bed. He could have slept on the couch, but Alfred had already claimed it, and the lounging chairs didn't seem very appealing. A warm bed with a pretty woman already in it was much more enticing, though he swore that nothing more than sleeping would occur.
In the bedroom, after he'd slipped out of his clothes and into his sleeping pants, Bruce wondered if he should put a shirt on, and decided against it. It was warm in the room, and there were covers on the bed. He'd be fine.
Stepping close to the bed, he let his eyes adjust to the darkness of the room and risked a glance at the sleeping damsel. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of her laying on her back, clearly lost in dreams. In sleep, she looked so peaceful, so relaxed and calm. How could a person guess that a mad criminal was after her when they saw her like this? Bruce was glad that, at least in sleep, she had found a refuge from her life.
He watched as Amara stirred in her sleep, rolling over until she faced away from him. Her breathing slowed down a bit, and it was then that Bruce climbed in, moving slowly so as not to wake and alarm her. She deserved her rest.
Forcing his body to relax, Bruce let his mind drift, a part of him always aware of the female presence beside him.
AN: Sharing a bed with dear Bruce. Doesn't that sound like fun? Please review! Thanks!