AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's been a while since I posted Chapter 12, so a little refresher is in order: After Bane learns Talia is pregnant by Bruce Wayne, he visits the scene of the crime at Wayne Manor, and finds Stella snooping around. Talia's news has put him in a very bad mood, so he manhandles Stella and haughtily demands to know if she thought she could get away with kissing him while he was under sedation. ;)

History is Made at Night

by batmanbane

"Abashed the devil stood and felt how awful goodness is

and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely: and pined his loss"

― John Milton, Paradise Lost

Chapter 13

Stella blinked nervously. "No, I honestly expected to be caught in the act, and it even crossed my mind that you were only pretending to be asleep. But, Natasha was certain you were out cold. I kissed you in retaliation for all the times you've touched me without my permission." She said, raising herself to her knees. And because I was curious. She admitted silently to herself.

"I do not require your permission." Bane scoffed, hovering ominously. "I will touch you wherever and whenever it pleases me." Pacing a circle around her, he stopped to grasp her chin and penetrated her with cold eyes.

"Leave it to you…" she exclaimed with an arched brow. "Always changing the rules."

"Don't be impertinent, woman. For all I know, you might have been my own private Delilah, come to relinquish me of my strength." He murmured. "You might have sabotaged my intravenous line…or smothered me with a pillow… "

"How dare you compare me to a Biblical temptress!" Stella complained, insulted by Bane's suggestion. "You should know by now that you can trust me!"

"Trust is a sham, Madam. Even Dr. Van Dyne has disappointed me by allowing you to see me unmasked." His punishing tone of voice unnerved her, but she fought back.

"Do you want to know what I think? I think you're pissed because you slept through my kiss. You wouldn't even have known if you hadn't tasted my lip balm. And you're sorry because you missed out."

Bane's pupils darkened at her taunt. It was true that he had experienced a myriad of thoughts and emotions since learning of her kiss, the most significant being his regret at having slept through it. Because of the mask, a kiss was not easily engineered. And since Stella didn't freely give her affections away, he had clearly missed a golden opportunity.

"As much as I would enjoy punishing you for your transgression in the doctor's office, I have had my heart set on the completion of our business." He admitted menacingly. "You will recall that in return for safe passage to the home of your aunt and uncle, you very charmingly offered me your body…"

Stella nodded as her stomach clenched.

"So that's what this big show is all about!" She sighed, swallowing hard as she peered up at him anxiously.

"Up, Up! On your feet!" He growled, his finger twitching in a circular motion. "We will conclude our business now."

"No!" she said obstinately, as butterflies rose in her stomach. "I will not get up, because I don't like your attitude."

"No?" Bane mocked her. "Very well then …" With lightning speed his hand reached down to grip her roughly around one slender ankle, and he made for the staircase at the end of the hall, dragging the outraged journalist along the floor behind him like a sack of potatoes.

Thoroughly humiliated, she twisted and turned helplessly, pounding her fists on the floor.

"You let go of me! Stop it right now!" she screamed, her voice echoing throughout the spacious mansion.

"This can't be happening to me…" she whined, covering her face with her hands. "It's so degrading…"

Bane stopped, but maintained his grip on her ankle, deliberately stroking the soft skin of her inner leg with slow, repetitive sweeps of his calloused thumb. It was an action against which she had no resistance.

"Bane, please don't…" she sighed, her voice trembling as her entire body bloomed at his touch.

"Stand then." He ordered, enjoying the sound of her soft sighs. "Or I will touch you in a far more intimate place."

From her prone position, she felt hopelessly awkward as she stared up into the masked man's fascinated eyes. Why on earth had she ever offered her body to him? The moment of truth had arrived and she simply had no idea how to behave…

Picking herself off the floor, she rubbed her sore backside. Bane took her hand, and they ascended the staircase to the second level. His ravenous expression left her weak at the knees, but she was determined to keep her head.

"Which way?" she demanded, her facial expression that of a soldier about to face a firing squad.

"Straight ahead to the end of the hall." Bane replied. "The manservant's quarters will be appropriate for our needs. The sheets are made of cotton, you see."

Stella passed her hand along a wall of shelves, perusing pottery pieces, masks and hand-carved items on display in the hall. Nearby, Bane affected a patient stance, allowing her to indulge her curiosity as his arms rested in front of him, fingertips touching.

Turning to look at him, Stella said, "You don't have to worry. I'm going to give you what I owe you because we have an agreement, and I always keep my word." She said, carefully inspecting a blue and white pottery bowl that she had lifted from the shelf.

Her voice rose significantly with her next words.

"But since you're in such a rotten mood, I'm not going to make it easy for you." Still enraged by the way he had dragged her across the floor, she fired the bowl at Bane, striking him squarely in his bulletproof vest. The bowl splintered into a hundred pieces and fell to the floor around him.

Bane wasn't the least bit startled by the action, and once the pottery dust settled, a gleeful expression took hold in his eyes. Stella's stomach dropped again as she realized she had only encouraged him.

"Just don't expect second helpings, because you won't get any!" she fumed, her voice shaking.

Calmly, he removed his protective vest and back brace, and peeled off his black shirt as he slowly swaggered toward her. He was naked from the waist up, a sight that excited Stella more than she cared to admit.

"By all means…open fire." He rasped, daring her to pitch a breakable item at his bare chest. His hazel eyes gleamed with victory and lust.

As angry as she was, Stella knew she could never intentionally draw blood. Backing away from him reluctantly, she fired a delicate teacup at the floor in frustration. "I hate you! Damn you for finding me and making me work for you!"

Bane's mask emitted a guttural rumble akin to cruel laughter, his fingers twitching in anticipation of his prize. In one elegant sweep he took hold of her waist and tossed her over his left shoulder, carrying her through the double doors of Alfred Pennyworth's suite.

Standing her on the floor near the edge of the bed he said, "I have come to realize that it is woman's lot to cater to man. Woman was never intended to be a journalist, or a doctor or a Demon Head. Educating a woman will only lead to her future treachery and betrayal. Her place, therefore, is in the bedroom, pleasing the master at all times."

Stella couldn't help but launch into a maniacal giggle, which thankfully eased her fear. "I think you've been inhaling too much of your pain killer. Maybe that's what put you in such a terrible mood." The giggle soon turned into unabashed laughter. "Come on, I know you don't really believe that nonsense."

Bane frowned, and backed her up to the edge of the bed. "Remove this…" He ordered her gruffly as his phallic finger gestured towards her khaki jacket. "… and your trousers!"

As Stella reluctantly began to untie her camouflage pants, there came a loud pounding on the front door downstairs, followed by the familiar voice of Barsad.

"Bane!" he called. "Are you up there, brother? We found one of those underground establishments you asked us to investigate, and it's a hot one. Chance Cooper is stealing supplies from us, so we have him right where we want him. Care to join us in a raid?

Bane stared guiltily at Stella while he made a quick, mental decision.

Since the fall of Gotham, life inside the city had been uneventful. Apart from the continuous work of Crane's Court and the carrying out of sentences on ice, the city was relatively quiet. Even Blackgate criminals were bored. Bane had come to realize that the inmates weren't so keen about committing crimes when they had permission to do so. They showed far more enthusiasm when law enforcement was breathing down their necks. Only the citizens of Gotham showed any real interest in crime, because breaking the law was so new to most of them.

But now, here was a chance for Bane to investigate a crime committed by one of his own men, against his own men, and the thought energized him.

"I'm regretful Stella, but our business must wait." He stated quietly as he pulled on his black shirt and boots, and buttoned his Belstaff jacket.

"Wait for me, brother!" He shouted enthusiastically.

"Are you going off to murder people?" Stella asked suspiciously as she stepped into her boots. She could read the amusement in his eyes that followed her question.

"Of course!" he chirped as he moved down the stairs. "You will remain here until I return."

"No I won't remain here! It's not very flattering to me when you up and run because you suddenly have a better offer."

Bane dropped his head, sighing in frustration.

"For a woman who thus far has lacked the enthusiasm to complete our business arrangement, you take surprising offense." He rumbled, observing her curiously.

When Stella didn't answer, he continued speaking.

"Someone is trying to disrupt the careful order I brought to this city, Stella. I have worked for years, and at great risk to establish that order. And so it is my duty to stamp out those who try to profit from it. Now, apparently you are bothered by my choosing Barsad over you. It seems I misjudged you when I assumed reluctance on your part. For that I deeply apologize. I was wrong. And I promise you, my dear, I will make it up to you." He babbled.

Astounded by the words spilling out of his mask, he wondered if Stella believed a word he spoke. He thought he sounded like an American husband attempting to pacify his unhappy wife.

"You're so full of shit, Bane. And I don't know why I listen to you. Now, let me go with you? Just this once?"

"These are clubs with long histories." Barsad explained. "The one we're crashing is situated below an early 20th century bank building. Access is through the north wall, in the back of the vault. In the last century, it was a speakeasy, a beatnik hangout and a discotheque. The currency has always been whatever was or is illegal: alcohol, marijuana, mind-altering drugs. Recently the space was the site of all night rave parties, where Gotham kids got hooked on chrystal meth. That is… until our arrival shut them down.

Barsad continued his litany of information. "Chance Cooper ran clubs at Harvard, but if he got into trouble he had powerful friends. As you know, Bane, his record is spotless. By the way, there is no signage anywhere for the club. It thrives by word of mouth and is known by its regulars as 'The Dent Club'.

"Good work, Barsad." Bane said, pleased with his second-in-command.

"Don't thank me, Bane. Thank Abraham. I've had him working undercover at The Dent Club for days, and he's the guy who discovered all the dirty laundry. It seems Cooper has a trusted circle of people working for him. He has spotters on the supply bridge who skim off the goods as they come across: alcohol, tobacco, groceries, prescription drugs. He also accepts a delivery of weapons every week.

"I did not authorize further shipments." Bane said angrily.

Of course you didn't, brother. But Cooper has a contact at Harvard who ships him guns. He supervises the delivery personally. It's almost as if he's stockpiling for his own war.

Bane was troubled by Barsad's information. He had trusted the brilliant young engineer enough to choose him as a potential husband for Dr. Natasha Van Dyne. And now he felt foolish.

"But that's not all." Barsad continued. "Cooper corrals attractive women from Crane's court and gives them the choice of either sentencing or prostitution. He puts them to work at the club and charges $200 per girl. The girls get twenty bucks for every john, and he pockets the rest."

Thoroughly disgusted, Bane laid out his plan. "Put a man at the door and don't allow any more guests inside. Brother, you and I will remove Cooper's guards at the top of the stairs, and assume their places, backed up by our men." He then turned to address Stella, who was sitting in the back seat of the tumbler, listening intently.

"I would like you to enter the club and engage Mr. Cooper in conversation so that we may acquire more information. Barsad will wire you so we are able to listen. Can you do that for us, Stella?"

"Of course I can do that." She said assuredly. "I'll do anything to help those women. Just show me the way in…"

The Dent Club's noisy patrons consisted equally of Blackgate inmates and curious Gotham citizens. There were also quite a few mercenaries, who obviously lived for the moment rather than worry about Bane discovering what they were up to. Stella had barely arrived and seated herself at an empty booth, when a number of shady characters with dishonourable intensions swarmed her. They retreated quickly when a very handsome man approached. She knew by the black hair and blue eyes that he was Chance Cooper.

"Good evening, Miss. New around here, aren't you?" He asked perceptively.

She immediately launched into her act, rolling her eyes and turning away from the stunning young mercenary.

"Wait a minute." He pressed further, snapping his fingers. "I know you. You're... you're the journalist – Bane's chick!"

Stella turned to look at him with a sour expression. "I suppose you could call me that. The name's Stella. And I'm kinda mad at Bane at the moment…"

"Well then, you've come to the right place." He said, as he squeezed into the seat next to her. "Welcome to 'The Dent Club'. My name is Chance Cooper, I'm one of Bane's trusted men, and I run this place."

"Oh really?" Stella huffed. "I've been here two minutes already. Now, what does it take to get a drink around this joint?"

"Is red wine okay?" Cooper asked amusedly as he gestured to the grizzled mercenary behind the bar. Instantly a bottle of Cesare Mara and two glasses were brought to the booth.

Stella passed her fingertip along the greasy tabletop.

"You need a housekeeper in this place. This table is gross…" she complained, revealing a very soiled finger to Chance.

"Ahem…my apologies, sweetheart." He said with a brilliant smile. "We're doing better every day. We've been launching a few clubs around town, and we're still ironing out the kinks. Now, what brings a hot gal like yourself to The Dent Club?" He asked, easing closer to her.

Stella poured herself a full glass of wine and gulped it all down, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

From his perch, Bane's brow quivered, and Barsad whistled as he pulled away from his scope to address the masked man. "Did you watch her toss back that drink?"

"Well…" Stella began. "We were…um… about to go to bed when one of his men showed up. Bane chose to go off on some late night mission and left me alone." She pouted. The story was accurate except for the part about Bane leaving her alone.

"So I did interrupt something. I thought so…" the sharpshooter muttered as he glanced at Bane.

Cooper flashed another grin. "Well, I have to be honest, Stella. Even though he tried to fix me up with his doctor, I never figured Bane for the romantic type. He wouldn't wear that Halloween mask if chicks were his priority. I would think the only thing that gives him a hard-on is mercenary work. But then… Jackie insists you two are in bed together…

Stella grimaced. "Jackie Kent comes here?"

"Oh yea!" Chance bragged. Now, she's a valued client."

"A client?" Stella asked sarcastically.

"It's more respectful than referring to our guests as 'customers', wouldn't you say?"

Stella smiled patronizingly. Leaning back into the booth as if she owned it, she addressed him confidently.

"You sure run a class joint, Chance! Mind if I ask what service you provide to Jackie?"

Chance Cooper's vacant grin never wavered. "Booze." He answered bluntly. "The woman is an alcoholic. She pays. I provide."

Although she was no fan of Jackie Kent, Chance's callous remark made Stella feel ill, and she understood why Barsad expressed such a deep dislike for him.

"So, if you're one of Bane's 'trusted men' then where are you getting the alcohol from? Stealing from the supply bridge?" She asked bluntly.

"Uh-uh…" Chance cautioned. "I have to watch what I say around you, Stella, otherwise you'll take information to Bane, won't you?"

"I told you…I'm mad at him right now. I'm not gonna tell him anything. And you know why? Because I've decided I like you, Chance…and I think I'm gonna like coming here. You're smart, gorgeous, and I'll bet you're a good kisser. God knows, I need to get away from him and his greedy hands, and have a good, stiff drink every now and then."

Chance drummed out a tune on the tabletop with the palms of his hands, easily flattered by Stella's words.

"Well thank you, Sunshine!" He grinned. "It's not really stealing. Call it 'redistribution'. For example, alcohol is against the religion of many of Bane's guys. So why shouldn't I place it where it does the most good – in my clubs? At a premium, of course. As for tobacco, most of the goons from Blackgate are hardcore smokers, so I redistribute cigars and cigarettes to them… for a price."

"I shall take great pleasure in crushing this man's windpipe." Bane observed from his hiding place. "He is a capitalist to rival Bruce Wayne."

Once again, Barsad turned from his scope to address Bane.

"I would be honoured if you would allow me to shoot this man, brother."

Bane nodded, understanding. "I had forgotten that you must defend the honour of Dr. Van Dyne against this hoodlum. I heartily agree and hand the task over to you, Barsad."

Barsad broke into a smug grin at the thought of taking out the handsome engineer.

From her seat at the booth, Stella scanned the room, and caught the sidelong glance of Abraham who was seated nearby with an untouched glass of beer in front of him. He nodded slightly when their eyes met.

"Now, tell me all about yourself, Chance." She insisted. "How did a gorgeous guy like you get mixed up with a bunch of thugs with broken noses and tattoos?"

"I was actually working for John Daggett. I'm an engineer with a background in explosives, and when Bane started doing business with Daggett, he hired me on to his Gotham demolition team. Hey, you know what? I'll tell you a secret." He said leaning even closer to her. "I've never had an orgasm as big as the one I had when we blew those bridges."

From above, Barsad groaned. "Permission to shoot him now, boss!" he deadpanned.

"Mmmm." Stella winked. "Maybe I can help you with that sometime."

"I'm certainly counting on you to try …" Chance smirked.

Bane lurched violently in his perch. "This man is to be taken alive!" he growled angrily. "I want to know everything about his covert activities. Abraham! Remove Stella before that traitor makes another move on her." He seethed.

"Leave her in, Bane." Barsad cautioned him. "She's doing a great job."

As if on cue, Stella became all business. She had become about as friendly with the self-aware mercenary as she wanted to be.

"I should go before he gets back." She said feigning worry. "Otherwise, he'll come looking for me, and I don't want the bruises that come with that."

She dug into her pocket in search of the cash Barsad had given her. "How much for the glass of wine, honey?"

"It's on the house, Stella, seeing as this is your first visit."

"Oh no!" Stella protested. "I always pay my own way, Chance. Now how much?"

"Twenty-five dollars" he smiled shamelessly.

"Twenty-five dollars! Where do you think we are anyway? Vegas? How much for the whole bottle?"

"Well, this is it, Stella. Some supplies are hard to come by, so there's that pesky premium..." Cooper stalled.

"Cough it up, lover." She demanded. "How much?"

"For this vintage, the price per bottle is one hundred and forty dollars."

She shoved twenty-five dollars cash into Chance's breast pocket and said, "Sorry, no tip."

"Not a problem, Stella." the engineer smiled. "And hey, you've given me a great idea. Ever since Bruce Wayne disappeared, Bane is THE celebrity in Gotham, and if he showed up at my club for a drink, he'd give me massive street credibility! Do you think you could sweet-talk him into showing his mask around here?"

"You don't hear so good." Stella observed sharply. "I told you, I'm mad at him. I'm not gonna be sweet-talking him anytime soon! Besides, you should worry about him finding out about this place!"

"Actually, I'm not really all that worried…" Chance bragged, "because I've got nine lives. I've got an ace in the hole!"

Bane decided he'd heard enough. In the next moment, a heavy rope dropped from the ceiling, and he shimmied down to the floor at high speed, followed by several of his men.

"Mr. Cooper! He rumbled gleefully once his feet had hit the ground. "I am very pleased to make an appearance in your club, although not in the context you would have wished for. Abraham, take him into custody."

The crowd in the club dispersed noisily, fearful of the masked man.

"Well, shit!" Cooper swore as Abraham fitted him with zip cuffs. "Don't tell me you aren't making sure that your men have balanced diets while they're here, and that you're not taking food that's meant to be equally shared between the people of Gotham and the police!"

"I won't deny it." Bane admitted. "The difference between us is that I am not profiting by it. When I arrived here, I put Gotham on a righteous path by placing it in the hands of the people, but your efforts will only result in restoring the old Gotham, a decadent city run by a wealthy elite."

Bane settled his eyes on Stella. "Get everyone out of here! Quickly!" he snarled to his men.

As the room emptied, he took cautious steps toward her, examining her with increasing amusement. He'd seen a side of her that he never knew existed, and he approved.

"I enjoyed your performance very, very much." He complimented her quietly. "Had I known of your skills, I would have used you as my femme fatale far earlier than this. You will do this for me again sometime?"

Stella swallowed hard. Why was she so reluctant to sleep with him? Just because a couple of bad boyfriends had sworn her off sex? Wasn't it time to forget it and just trust him?

She couldn't speak because she was breathing heavily, and she was beginning to realize that watching Bane in action was key to her attraction to him. Seeing him travel down the rope, his very presence causing the room to cower in fear, and the mocking tone he used with Chance Cooper had triggered an emotional and physical response within her. Her body was tingling all over and shivering with pleasure. She was burning for him.

"Bane…" she managed to whisper.

Before she knew it, she was in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist, back slammed up against a nearby wall. Her camouflage pants were being torn away.

"Bane, what are you – OH!" Stella gasped as Bane drove into her, and she held on to him for dear life as she realized what was happening.

Upon hearing her sharp intake of breath, he commanded, "Breathe, Stella. Breathe again, and again."

Upon her third exhale, he drew her buttocks forward and pushed deeper into her. A long squeak escaped her throat, followed by a tremulous sigh, and Bane smiled possessively.

For the moment, he was content to remain still; he wanted to give her time to acclimate before he began the completion of their business.

"I promised you that I would make it up to you." he murmured.

Alright, I know you're pissed because I ended the chapter here, but after 4500 words, it was time for me to shut it down. I originally wrote a chapter that took place entirely in the bedroom, until Stella finally gave in to him. But it bored me so much that I cut the latter half and brought forward the Chance Cooper storyline I'd planned for a future chapter. I'm much happier with it this way. The next chapter will pick up right where we left off, I promise. BTW, thank you for your kind and caring messages. My dad isn't doing very well, but he's still with us. Please, let me know what you think of Chapter 13. ;) :D