Disclaimer… I do not own anything to do with Batman, copyright wise. Also, the songs I use in this fic belong to those that own them. Eleanor Black, her family and this plot are mine. This fic is rated for language and some sexual situations; nothing too graphic though, because it's just a sweet little Christmas fic I'm writing because I'm in the holiday spirit. I really like it and I hope you do to.
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Song: "You Had Me From Hello" by Bon Jovi and "Life by the Drop" by Stevie Ray Vaughn
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Our Songs
Day Twelve //
The first thing Eleanor did when she woke up the next day was make herself a decent amount of waffles and smothered them in butter and syrup. She had ingested spa food before and she knew how not filling it was and she wanted to spoil herself a bit. Not that she wouldn't be doing that exact thing at the ball that night, but that wasn't the point. Besides, waffles were her favourite breakfast. After she had downed her pile of carbohydrates, Eleanor took Winter for a walk, trying to occupy her mind as well as her time, but it didn't work as well as she wanted, and by the time they made it back to her loft, Eleanor was more agitated with excitement than she had been before.
"What am I going to do with myself?" she muttered, falling backwards onto the couch and savouring the moment of elevated adrenaline. "Mom's not coming until nine-thirty…" Grudgingly, Eleanor looked over at the clock. She still had an hour. "Damn it." And she pulled a pillow over her face to muffle her noises of frustration.
Naomi had e-mailed Eleanor at some point yesterday telling her about the mysterious spa certificate she had received as well as a note explaining the circumstances; she was, of course, going to ball as well. And Eleanor replied, telling her mother all about the game someone had set up for her over the last little while, and about her theory of who was behind it all. Naomi was thrilled, of course, because her life goal had been to set Eleanor and Bruce up, and she thought all her prodding had finally paid off; only part of her enthusiasm was in fun. She was dead serious about Eleanor becoming Mrs. Bruce Wayne.
Eleanor forced herself to watch television for a while before decided it was an acceptable time to change into a pair of yoga pants and a black cotton tank top. She put on a zippered sweater over that and pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail, grabbed her coat, the large bag the currently held her shoes and all her jewelry and the hanger holding the black mass which was her dress in one of the black nylon protective bags before checking once more that Winter had food and water and heading down to the front hall to wait for the familiar shape of her parent's car. Eleanor didn't have to wait that long, as at nine twenty-five, the large black luxury car drove up and, nearly exploding with relief that she was one step closer to the ball, she flung herself into the back seat, laying her dress down carefully on the seat beside her.
"A little excited, are we?" Naomi asked, raised one of her perfectly arched red eyebrows.
"You have no idea, Mom." Eleanor's smile was devious. "This has been going on for twelve days now, and I can't wait any longer to find out if Bruce is behind this."
"It has to be him. Who else could arrange something like this?"
Eleanor mustered the most skeptical look she could. "Lots of people could, Mom, it's more of a matter who would, and Bruce never really seemed interested in me like that before." Briefly, her mind fluttered back a few days to the kiss they had shared in the study at Wayne Manor. She hadn't told anyone about that. "I'm trying to not get my hopes up."
It was Naomi's turn to be skeptical. "Looks like you're failing miserably."
"That's not the point. The point is that I'm being realistic about this. It's rather likely that Bruce isn't behind this after all." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Eleanor realized how much the idea of that hurt. A surprising pain thundered into her chest; she hadn't realized how fast and how far she'd fallen for Bruce, and despite her best tries, Eleanor needed it to be Bruce at the end of this journey.
"But you want it to be him, don't you?" Naomi's voice had become warm, caring.
For a few moments, Eleanor sat in silence. "Yes," she finally answered in a whisper.
The rest of the ride was in silence, and when they finally arrived at the hotel spa, Eleanor had forced herself back into her excitement and tried very hard not to think about what she would do if it was not Bruce.
First, Eleanor and Naomi were shown to a private locker room where they changed into fluffy, soft white housecoats and took their hair out. Then, the spa day began for real. Mud-baths, soaks in salt-water, seaweed wraps, facials, and all that fun stuff passed in a blur of friendly conversation and soothing music. They ate streamed fish and vegetables for lunch, and although she wasn't really full, Eleanor did have to admit she felt better, cleaner. Time seemed to fly by, and when Eleanor and Naomi were lying on their stomachs, enjoying massages, it was already nearing three o'clock. As soon as the massages were done, the women were rushing into the salon to get their hair washed, cut and styled. A dinner of grilled chicken, rice and vegetables was served before the makeup artists came.
By the time it was time to get dressed for the ball, Eleanor could barely stand it.
"God! Why is time passing so Goddamned slow!" She began to pace the locker room, waiting for Naomi to get changed.
"Watch your language, dear."
Eleanor huffed and sat down in the comfortable chair leaning against the wall. She stared at her brilliant red dress, hanging on the wall and tried to picture herself in it again. I still can't do it. Someone is going to have to take a picture of me. Eleanor knew she wasn't going to have to ask anyone though, as the paparazzi would be more than glued to Bruce all night, and, if it was him behind this, her as well.
"Well, what do you think?"
She snapped out of her thoughts and looked at her mother, dressed in a jade coloured gown that complimented the shade of her red hair perfectly and made her green eyes nearly leap out of her face. "You look great Mom – beautiful." Eleanor paused. "We're going to look like Christmas."
Naomi laughed, a pleasant sound. "It's good thing it's Christmas time then. Now hurry up and change. I can't wait to see you in that gorgeous dress."
Eleanor stepped behind the wooden screen and pulled of the robe and worked herself into her clothes for the party. The dress fit her brilliantly. She strapped on her shoes, adorned the wrist cuffs and the earrings – she had elected to leave the necklace at home for fear of something happening to it – and slipped on the three rings she wore everyday: a thin, plain, white gold band on her left thumb, a diamond set in a curving white gold band on her right ring-finger, and a thick white gold band with three onyx stones in a diagonal line on the middle finger of her right hand. She took a deep breath, refusing to look into the mirror until her mother had seen her, and stepped into Naomi's view.
"Oh my God… Ellie, honey, you look gorgeous."
She smiled feebly and turned to look at herself in the mirror. Eleanor was ecstatic: she was not an egotistical person, but she thought she looked perfect. "What time is it?" she asked, admiring herself for another moment.
"It's six twenty. The car is outside waiting."
"Then what are we still doing in here?"
Eleanor pulled on her long wool coat she only wore for special occasions, gathered her bags and headed out to the lobby. Laughing, Naomi followed suit and, in moments, the two ladies were on their way to the hotel where the ball was being held. Eleanor pulled her mask out of her bag and set it on her lap. She then pulled out the ticket and tucked it, along with her ID, credit card and some cash, into the small black clutch purse she'd dug out of her closet for tonight. Naomi's mask was gold and green and covered the right half of her face.
"Here we are," the drive informed them cheerfully.
Both adorned their masks and stepped out onto the brightly lit sidewalk. Liam, Eleanor's father, swooped Naomi inside right away, sparing only a hug, a kiss and a greeting to his daughter; Liam loved parties and knew how Eleanor hated it when her parents hovered. Eleanor stood outside of the hotel, butterflies going insane in her stomach, her heart in her throat and the worst kinds of thoughts barreling through her head. She couldn't remember the last time she had been that nervous and that excited at the same time. She also couldn't remember the last time her being had depended so much on a specific outcome of one event. Eleanor took a deep breath and entered the hotel, handing the doorman her ticket as she passed, and walked the familiar path to the ballroom where she had attended many rich parties before, her eyes continuously swept from side to side, studying every masked face, looking for Bruce.
For what seemed like hours, Eleanor wandered the elegantly decorated ballroom, looking for Bruce, or waiting for him to find her. She sipped at a few glasses of delicious red wine as she walked. Finally, she decided that staying in one place might be a better idea than wandering through the colourful collection of guests, that standing by a window would make her easier to spot, so she moved to the closet one and stood close to the chilly glass.
My cheeks are turning red, she thought, gently brushing her finger tips against the flush brought on by the alcohol and her emotions. Where is he? Eleanor studied the reflections of the people twirling around behind her, but no one seemed to paying any attention to her beyond a brief glance. She sighed heavily. Maybe he's not coming… She sighed again. Maybe it isn't him after all… She accepted another glass of wine from one of the waiters mingling amongst the dancers and took a big gulp; some of the fuzziness of being drunk started to clog her mind, but she continued to stare out the window. I think I'd better lay off the wine… She set her half-full glass on a nearby table and settled on the window sill, watching the colourful dresses and brilliant masks swirl in front of her. Wow, there are a lot of people here… The hospital will be getting a lot of money this year for sure. They must really love Bruce for setting this whole thing up. She stood up and wandered slightly closer to the crowd.
The arms sliding around her waist made a startled noise jump from her lips.
"You look absolutely wonderful," a familiar voice whispered in her ear.
His lips brushed the top of her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "I was wondering when you were going to show up," she whispered, leaning backwards slightly. There was an unbelievable feeling coursing through her body, and, for a moment, she forgot all of her questions, all of her excitement. She felt absolutely content.
"Sorry to keep you waiting." His fingers entwined into hers and he spun her around into dancing posture and whisked her into the crowd.
Eleanor looked up into his green eyes and couldn't keep a smile spreading across her face. Bruce answered her with her favourite crooked smile and pulled her into his chest. "You've got a few questions to answer," she informed him.
"Later."
They danced through a couple songs, giving Eleanor a chance to actually realize what he was wearing: an expertly cut black tuxedo with a red tie that matched her dress perfectly. His black mask shimmered slightly and sat only around his eyes, and something about the way it looked there was familiar, but Eleanor ignored it, not wanting to pursue any more mysteries than necessary right then. After their fifth song finished, Bruce led her across the floor to the room where they kept the coats and purses. Eleanor tired to ignore her parents' eyes on her as Bruce helped her into her coat and led her towards the back of the room where glass doors opened up onto a large balcony. Eleanor smiled jubilantly when she stepped into the light snow. It wasn't terribly cold and there was no wind.
"Before you start the inquisition," Bruce said, "let me ask you something."
"Shoot."
"When did you figure out it was me?"
Eleanor paused in thought. "I think I always knew… But I was doubtful. I mean, before I left, you seemed so immersed in your public image and you were very close to Rachel. But, honestly, how many rich guys do I know who could have pulled this off? It had to be someone who knew me well and who could have obtained information and help from my family and friends and my neighbour. Everything just pointed to you. I didn't really let myself believe it was you until after the spa certificate."
He stepped closer to her. "Did you want it to be me."
There was no point in lying to him. "After that whole game… I needed it to be you…"
The silence wasn't awkward, just tense. Bruce obviously hadn't expected that sort of answer, but he hugged her close and kissed the top of her head. "You can start your interrogation now," he whispered.
Eleanor gently pushed herself back from him only far enough to comfortably look up into his eyes. "Why'd you pick the songs you did?"
He shrugged casually. "All of the songs I picked… reminded me of you in some way. And of our relationship, including whatever it becomes." Bruce smiled when tears leapt into Eleanor's eyes. "If you hadn't guessed yet, you're important to me Ellie…"
"Just how important are we talking here?" she asked, trying to keep her voice light, but it came out heavy with emotion.
"Very."
"Is that why you arranged this whole thing? So you could tell me that." When he nodded, Eleanor playfully punched his stomach. "You could have just told me."
"Where's the fun in that? Oh, speaking of which," Bruce said as he reached into his pocket. He withdrew a small, unadorned box and handed it to her. "Your twelfth gift."
Eleanor put her mask under one arm, opened the box, tucking the lid underneath it. Sitting on top of a folded piece of paper was an old skeleton key. It was dull, whatever metal it was made of tarnished with age, but it was beautifully crafted. Tied to the top of it was a longish piece of black ribbon, meant to tie it to something. But what would she need an old key for? Before asking though, she pulled the paper out and unfolded it. Instead of typed, it was handwritten in Bruce's familiar scrawl, and it was just the lyrics to a song.
Hello there, my old friend, You're livin' a dream, wo you on top Up and down that road in our worn out shoes, You're livin' a dream, wo you on top No wasted time, we're alive today You're livin' a dream, wo you on top
not so long ago it was 'till the end
We played outside in the pouring rain,
on our way up the road we started over again
My mind is achin', Lord it won't stop
That's how it happens, livin' life by the drop
talkin' 'bout good things and signin' the blues
You went your way, I stayed behind
We both knew it was just a matter of time
My mind is achin', Lord it won't stop
That's how it happens, livin' life by the drop
Churnin' up the past, there's no easier way
Time's been between us, a means to an end
God it's good to be here walkin' together my friend
My mind is achin', Lord it won't stop
That's how it happens, livin' life by the drop
Somehow, the fact that the song was handwritten made the message all that more potent, and she sniffed back tears as she tucked the paper back into the box and closed it.
"A key?" she asked, looking up with tears still hovering in her eyes.
"It's the start of another game. That key opens one door at the Manor, and you've got to find out which one."
"Bruce!"
He just smiled devilishly and pulled her in close again. "Merry Christmas Ellie," he whispered.
Bruce leaned down and kissed her fiercely on the mouth, his one hand moving up to the back of her neck. Eleanor dropped her mask and the box onto the grey stones of the patio and flung her arms around his neck, putting everything she could into that kiss. When they parted, they were both breathing a little heavier and Eleanor's cheeks were flushed. He kissed her again, more tenderly.
"Shall we head back inside?" he asked.
Eleanor nodded, her face pressed into his chest, and took a deep breath. He smells good, she thought absently. "I'd like to dance some more," she mumbled. Really, she would have liked to have stood there, in his warmth.
Bruce gave her a moment more and then untangled himself from her. He picked up her mask and the box and handed them to her as they headed back inside. Both of them slipped their masks back on and stepped into the warmth, heading back to the coat room. When they were back on the dance floor, Bruce waved to the band and a lone man stepped forward, a microphone in his hand.
"Bruce…"
"Just another little surprise."
Eleanor gave him a warning look and held herself close to him; now that she had him, she didn't want to let him go.
The man with the microphone cleared his throat and then sang:
At the mirror you fix your hair and put your makeup on To me you look so beautiful when you can't make up your mind Standing here my hands in my pockets The first time I saw you it felt like coming home When we walk into a crowded room it's like we're all alone You come to me and take my hand From the first time I saw you it felt like coming home And when you're laying down beside me The first time I saw you it felt like coming home From hello
You're insecure about what clothes to wear
I can't see nothing wrong
It's half past eight, it's getting late
It's OK, take your time
Like I have a thousand times
Thinking back it took one breath
One word to change my life
If I never told you I just want you to know
You had me from hello
Everybody tries to kidnap your attention
You just smile and steal the show
We start dancin' slow
You put your lips up to my ear and whisper way down low
If I never told you I just want you to know
You had me from hello
I feel your heartbeat to remind me...
If I never told you I just want you to know
You had me from hello
From hello
And, as they danced, Eleanor leaned against Bruce and swallowed the lump in her throat.
Merry Christmas indeed.
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Author's Note… Belated Merry Christmas to every one. I hope you all had great holidays and the New Year is going well so far.
You all get a long, cheesy ending to this fic. Yay for cheese.
Why are there two songs? Because I couldn't decide which one I liked better. That's why.
And you can all decide what room the key is for. I ain't telling.
