Note: My *** did not work in scene breaks and nothing else I have tried works either. How do I fix this because it bothers me greatly? Would someone please let me know?! I will go back and fix the chapters if anyone has an idea. Thank You!

Chapter Ten: A Big Place to Call Home.

Morning found birds singing in the trees outside, and Buffy's head feeling as if she had drank way too much and had even more fun.

Oh, that was right, she had.

She pulled the silk sheet over her head, trying to obliterate the sunlight coming through the half opened drapes. She was afraid to move. She was so comfortable. The sheets were cool against her naked skin, the pillow nice and soft, and the mattress firm under her body. It was the most amazing bed she had ever slept in. Of course, for all of its amazingness (so not a word, but she couldn't think of a real one that was a better), it wasn't nearly as amazing as the man who was in the bed with her.

She was tucked firmly against him, her back to his front. His arm was draped over her stomach, holding her securely in his sleep. His breath on her neck, his legs tangled with hers. All of this was beyond amazing. What was even better: he wasn't going to try and kill her because he had lost his soul in a moment of happiness. It was truly a wonderful bit of knowledge.

Bruce stirred behind her, his arm tightening around her, and then he untangled himself from her and sat up.

"Morning," he said, smiling over at her.

"Morning," she returned, reaching up and brushing his sleep tasseled hair out of his eyes. He was handsome all the time, but while sleeping or having just woken up, he was adorable.

He lay back down on his back. Buffy turned over and put her head on his shoulder. "I think I am worn out."

Buffy giggled. "I have a hangover and by back is all itchy. And I think," she began, reaching behind her head, combing through her hair, and just as she thought: "I have a holly leaf stuck in my hair."

Bruce laughed and took it from her, twirling it around in his fingers. "You should be more careful when you are having sex in a stranger's back yard, with a house full of people, all there for charity."

She slapped him lightly on the chest, and then sat up herself, looking around. It had been dark when they had come in last night, so she hadn't really gotten a good look at his room. "Nice. Classy, yet refined. Elegant, yet not too posh."

"Thank you," he said, sitting up next to her. He kissed her shoulder. "Not to put a rush on you or anything, but Alfred should be about to bring me my morning drink, so you might want to put something on."

"Oh!" As he got out of bed, she looked for her dress. Okay, she did not spend any of that time looking for her dress. That would have just been stupid of her.

She watched him go over to the dresser and pull out a pair of sleeping pants. She was majorly disappointed when he put them on. "You can wear this." He pulled out the matching button up shirt and tossed it to her.

Buffy tossed the covers away and pulled on the shirt. She was just finishing with the last button, standing up to find that the hem of the shirt nearly reached her knees, when there a knock at the door. She froze like a deer in the headlights.

"Mr. Wayne? Are you awake?" Alfred. Buffy wondered if she could squeeze herself under the bed real quick.

"Yes, Alfred. Come on in." Bruce answered, shaking his head with amusement at the look of panic Buffy gave him.

The Englishman entered the room, carrying silver tray. On it was a tall glass of…green, gross-looking stuff.

"Here you are, Sir," Alfred stated, setting the tray down. He then turned and, Bless the man, didn't even flinch when he saw Buffy standing there, in nothing but the shirt that matched the sleeping pants that his employer was wearing. "Good morning, Miss Summers. If I had known you were here, I would have brought you some orange juice."

"That's okay." She smiled sheepishly, folding her arms over her stomach, feeling very awkward. "And good morning to you too, Alfred."

Bruce picked up the glass, and raised it in salute to his butler, a smile on his face. "Thanks, Alfred." He drank the green stuff down quickly, sat the empty glass back on the tray, and then proceeded to drop to the floor, and…do pushups.

"You are most welcome, sir." Alfred picked up the tray and went to the door. "Breakfast is in half an hour." He bowed his head slightly to Buffy. "Miss Summers." And then he was gone, the door securely closed after him.

"You worry too much," Bruce told her from the floor. He was doing an extreme set of pushups, very fast, full pushups.

"Is it something he is used to?" Buffy just had to ask, but she did it in a teasing way to cover her tracks. "Is he used to coming in and finding a strange girl in your room, wearing your clothes?"

Bruce laughed. "No, he is not. Trust me. In fact," he said, jumping to his feet. Buffy had counted fifty-five pushups, but she had not counted them all. "He has never seen it before."

"Really?" She asked, scrunching up her nose in disbelief. "Forgive me if I find that hard to believe."

"It's true. When I came back here after being overseas, I took on the Batman persona. Had to be kept a secret, so I don't have many guests. Couldn't take the chance." He came over to her, gathering her into his arms. He smelled delicious. "We have time for a quick shower before breakfast."

"And just what am I supposed to wear to breakfast?" She pouted, just a little, kissing his chest.

"I have a robe. In fact, I have several of them." He cupped her check, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. "You can wear whichever one you want."

"Shower then food. Sounds like a plan."

The shower had taken a little longer than the twenty-five minutes they had before breakfast. It was more like forty-five-ish. While Bruce did what guys do, shave and such, Buffy went to find which robe she wanted to wear. She finally found them among all the suit jackets, shirts, and everything else. The robe went practically down to her ankles, but was silk, and very nice.

"After breakfast, I'll show you around," Bruce told her as he came back into the room. "Everything. All of it."

When they went downstairs, Alfred was sitting in a chair by a window, reading the paper. "Your breakfast is in the kitchen on the table," he said, without looking up from his paper. "It's probably cold by now. Enjoy."

Bruce led Buffy to the kitchen and they talked while they ate. He told her about how the house had been destroyed a few years before, burned down, and that he had had it built back brick by brick just like it had been before. Some things could not be replaced, but they had managed with everything else. And yes, their breakfast was cold, but the coffee was hot.

After eating, he did as he had said he would: showed her around the place. The house was beyond huge, and soon, even with Bruce holding her hand, she was lost beyond hope. She knew that if she had been by herself, she would never have found her way out of here. It was pouring rain outside, so he took her into a room with a piano in it.

"You play?" She asked, her eyes taking in everything.

The look on his face suggested he didn't. "No. Except for this." He then hit two notes at once, another two notes, and then finally a third. They didn't go together at all, and while Buffy was not an expert in playing either, they sounded off key, as if the instrument was in desperate need of tuning. She was about to tease him when one of the bookshelves in front of them slid open. "Come on." He took her hand once again, and led her through the opening. It closed up behind them. They then went down a long staircase, and finally to a very old looking elevator, but without walls. Just a floor and a few bars. Going down the staircase, they had made the transition from the house to what had to be a cave like area. The walls and ceiling became rock and stone; formed over the years by the water she could hear dripping into natural formations.

The elevator was fast and reached the bottom in record time. It didn't take Buffy long to figure out why he had brought her down here: it was where Batman lived.

He showed her where he kept his armor and equipment, where he worked on said equipment, and the car…tank…vehicle he drove. There were bats everywhere. There was not an inch of the ceiling of the cave that was not occupied by the flying creatures. They made constant noise, but most of it was drowned out by the waterfall in the back. Through it was where he entered and exited the cave with the…vehicle. The floor was wet and slick, but not too hard for her to traverse. In an area in the back, built into the stone, was a room with a computer, a few large screens, and other types of electrical equipment.

"This is the Batcave," she stated, smiling as she took it all in.

He nodded, leaning against a table, hands in his pockets, watching her. "Yes," he said softly. He felt at that moment that it was not possible for him to take his eyes off of her. Truthfully, he couldn't think of a reason to want to stop looking at her – ever. "There are a lot of things we need to talk about."

"I know." Buffy nodded. Playtime was over. Now the not-so-fun stuff had to be taken care of.

So, there in that cave under his mansion, they talked about the stuff they had been avoiding. He told her about his parents and what had happened to them, and what had happened to him afterward, what he had become. He told her about Ra's Al Ghul and the League of Shadows, and how he became Batman. Rachel Dawes, Harvey Dent, the Joker, the Scarecrow, and how he had lost Rachel, how Dent had fallen, and how he, Batman, had taken the fall for it all and why.

And then it was her turn. Demons, vampires, living over a hell mouth, her mother, her sister, Angel, Spike, having died twice, looking into hell, Riley, being in Heaven – all of it. Though there were somethings that she didn't want to tell him, she did so anyway. She wanted to be completely honest and hold nothing back. He had to know everything, no matter how dark or how ashamed of it she was.

After it was all done and everything put on the table, so-to-speak, they sat there in silence absorbing all that they had just heard and learned. Buffy was afraid of a lot of the things she told him changing how he thought and felt about her, but the one that she dreaded the most was the fact that she had been dead and buried for three months. It was a lot for a guy to take in, and maybe deal with.

Finally, he turned and looked at her. Though she loved looking at him and being looked at by him, this was different. It was like a scrutiny and like he was trying to make up his mind about something. She was even more afraid now.

And then he said what she did not expect him to say.

"I love you."

She got all warm and fuzzy. Giddy. Bubbly inside. Tears stung her eyes.

"And I love you," she whispered as he brought a hand up to wipe away an escapee from her tear ducts.

"But, I think there is a difference between 'loving' someone and 'being in love' with someone."

The bubbly was beginning to pop. She tried to swallow the lump forming in her throat.

"Loving someone," he continued, "is general. You can love many people in many different ways. But it is not as intimate as being in love with someone. Being in love with someone is unconditional, powerful, eternal, and I believe that only truly happens once to a person in their life."

Buffy had a very bad feeling. Thoughts of her times with Angel and how she had felt about him popped into her head. What Bruce had told her about Rachel Dawes came up as well. Her mouth felt dry, like desert dry, and her skin felt chilled all the way down to her bones. She wanted to tell him that she knew now, she knew that person he was speaking about, for her, and had not been Angel. That person was right in front of her. But Bruce and Rachel…

"That is why, I believe, it would be best for you and I," he stated, and Buffy wanted to run away, as far away she could go. She would rather stare back into hell then hear this man tell her that this had all been a mistake. "I think it would be best for both of us if you mo-."

"Master Wayne!" Alfred's voice cut through the serenity of the moment.

"What is it, Alfred?"

"Sir, there is quite a bit of trouble at the Gotham City Bank according to the news." He paused. "I believe the police and the armed gunmen inside are at a stand still."

"I have to go." He jumped off the table and disappeared before Buffy could utter a word.

"Hey! Wait a minute." She dashed after him. "What about me?"

"Ask Alfred to take you back to the museum."

Buffy, making her anger face at him, but he wasn't paying any attention to her anymore. And while still mad at him, she did put it on pause just long to watch him strip down and put on the Bat armor. It was amazing to watch, and not just physically (though she had to admit to the fact that those scratches on his shoulder blades that were due to her fingernails made her proud), but it was also the personality change. It was happening right before her eyes. The more of the armor that he put on, the more Bruce Wayne disappeared, and the Bat appeared, taking over his thoughts, movements, and emotions.

Once he was fully Batman, Buffy let her anger return. She wanted to say something biting, or just anything to let him know she was upset, but she didn't think it would do any good.

"Once there, I'll change and go out on patrol," she stated as he walked (stalked?) by her to the Bat tank. "Maybe I'll see you out there."

A few steps past her, he stopped for a moment and then moved back towards her. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, feigning disinterest, hoping her fuming was noticeable. His rubber encased hand cupped her cheek and made her look at him.

"I'm sorry," he said, in his scare-the-bad-guys voice. "We'll talk later."

And with that he was gone, in the tank, and through the waterfall, out into the night.

Buffy really wanted to punch something.