Fates of Love

Author: BigHead / Everyone here belongs to someone else, except me. I belong to a boatload of taxes, hence no money being made

Summary: Fate has a wicked way of playing with the ones in their clutches.

Rating: Teen, for now.

Author's Notes: Thanks go to Greywizard, Ten and Ice, this time. And many thanks for all the reviews.

Feedback: YESSSS! PLEEEEAAAASEEE!

It should have been a relaxing flight for a potential job interview. However, given the amount of things that happened in the past week before the actual trip made Xander Harris turn on his almost unused thoughtful face and swim deep into what had happened.

First was the talk with Donna, and the reason why she had come visit.

"So, Mother wants to meet us," Diana said, pointing to Xander and herself.

"Yes, Diana. She wants to meet the male that apparently swayed your heart," Donna said, no hint of malice in her voice, as if she was just repeating what she had heard. And she probably was.

"There is no 'apparently', Donna. I do love Xander," Diana said, temper rising.

"I know that, sister. Anyone with eyes to see just need two minutes in the presence of you both to know that. And while our culture and teachings say differently, I know enough about the World of Men to know that not every male in existence is a back stabbing coward. There are honorable men around, and your Xander is most definitely one of them."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Xander said, dryly.

"However, know that I think my opinion isn't shared by anyone else that is aware of your relationship, Diana. I tried to sway Mother a little bit, but I think that it fell on deaf ears."

"Great," the one-eyed man said, the rest of his mood vanishing in a second. "Now I have an entire island of women who knows more about bladed weapons than any living Slayer after my skin. And bones. And internal organs."

Donna thought a second about reacting, because she knew that, as much as her mother was aggravated by the situation, she was above all an honorable person. But before her complaints could be voiced, her sister spoke.

"I wouldn't worry much, Xander. Mother would never order such a thing."

Donna nodded.

"She would only cut Little Xander herself," Diana said with a smirk.

The younger Amazon Princess had never seen a person turn so white before.

Jokes aside, they set up a meeting for a month later. It would give the parties involved time to prepare, and for the one-eyed man to finish something he had started a while ago.

Plus the secret meeting between the core Scoobies and Diana, and the hatching of 'The Plan'.

He figured Buffy would never speak to him again.

Then it was his crew about finishing the Metropolis 'base', and then the meeting with Giles and his explanations about getting a break from Council-based jobs and his potential training with Batman. Much glass cleaning was had then, but in the end, the head of the New Watchers' Council agreed that it would, indeed, be better for Xander, and he even agreed to just tell the girls he was going away only to work for another company.

Aside from that, he was still waiting word from D'Hoffryn, and that was giving him shivers.

Pushing all of that aside for the moment, he grabbed his PDA and started reading the dossier that Dawn - the only other person aside from Giles and Diana who knew the truth - had prepared about Bruce Wayne.

First thing of notice was that the man was Rich. With a capital F. Second, he was, apparently, a do-gooder. Had a lot of philanthropic 'crusades' under his belt, and even the military contracts his companies got were geared towards defense and non-lethal offensives.

Then there was the guy's bio, with Dawn's personal notes that it took some extra digging to find that info. Wayne was an orphan, parents were murdered during a mugging gone wrong, and the then-young boy had seen it all.

Guardianship was passed to an Alfred Pennyworth, the family's butler. Several big blanks from there on, and the only really solid piece of info available was that he had finished Oxford with barely passing grades, majoring in Business.

Xander skimmed through the rest of the info, and it painted the perfect picture of Mr. Bruce Wayne: boring playboy with far too much money and very little sense.

There were a few pictures as well, from several different years. A newspaper photo, clearly from his parents' funeral, taken from a distance. The yearbook photo from Oxford. Several ones from different magazines, showing him in varied events, and in each once, he had a different - and in some cases more than one - beautiful woman attached to his arm.

Yeah. It painted a perfect picture of boring playboy life.

Something, however, kept nagging against Xander's weird-o-meter. It wasn't something he could point his finger at, but something was wrong.

He just wanted to know what.

Xander arrived onto Gotham Airport's lobby to be welcomed by an old man dressed in one of those classy driver suits he had only seen in movies, holding a plaque with 'A. Harris' written on it. He approached the guy with his lopsided grin in place.

"Hi, I'm Alexander Harris," he introduced himself.

"I am Alfred Pennyworth, Mr. Wayne's butler. Is that everything?" the Englishman asked, pointing to Xander's duffle and suit bag.

The SoCal native smiled. "I learned to travel light, P-Man."

Alfred's reply was merely to raise a single eyebrow and to grab the duffle straight from Xander's shoulder. "If you'll follow me, sir?"

"Lead the way, P-Man."

The butler just turned around and walked away.

The silent drive was grating on the ex-Watcher's nerves, and the big metropolis was giving him the wiggins, something like being in the presence of a Hellmouth, only not.

"So, how is working for Mr. Wayne like, Alfred?" he attempted on a conversation slash research.

"It isn't proper for me to speak about it, Mr. Harris," the old Englishman replied.

"Why not? Is he a bad boss? I'm just asking because I might end up working for him and I wanted to form a picture of him beforehand. I did some research but it was sorely lacking in some aspects. So, how is the man? And the boss?"

Alfred hesitated for a moment.

"Master Bruce is a good man, sir, and a good Master."

"You know, P-Man, this Master stuff might give people all sort of wrong ideas," Xander replied with a smirk.

The butler gave away a dignified huff.

"Sorry about the jibes, Alfred, but you tweed people are so easy sometimes," the American said, still smirking.

"Tweed people?"

"Proper British men," he continued. "And Batman?"

That, apparently, shook the butler somewhat. "What about him?" he asked, his tone guarded.

"You've met him? What do you think of him? What's his relationship with Mr. Wayne?" Xander already had his opinion formed about the Dark Knight, but he wanted to know how Bruce Wayne figured on that equation.

Alfred took some moments to answer. "I've met him a few times in the past, Mr. Harris. While not really knowing the man, I believe that Gotham needed and still needs him in order to survive our underworld and its crazed denizens. As for his relationship with Master Bruce, I believe that they are good acquaintances, since I don't believe Batman gives himself the luxury of having friends."

Xander nodded, but what Alfred had said rung…not right, somehow. "I've met the man twice, and I can honestly say that his mythos is well deserved. He is one scary mother."

"If you say so, sir. But I believe, from Master Wayne's talks, that he is a good man as well," the butler replied.

"Of that, I have no doubt," he concluded, remembering everything the Bat had done for him so far.

They did a brief stop at Xander's hotel so he could take a shower and put on his suit. He hated the damned thing, but not even he was so thick to go to a job interview dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. After another brief trip, they arrived at an impressive building, where Alfred oriented him to where he should go and how to proceed to get there.

Now, properly identified with a visitor's tag, he was riding the private elevator to the top floor, and the same feeling of wrongness came back full force. It could be just nerves about the interview, but the one-eyed man regretted not being armed with something more dangerous than a cell phone, his wallet and a visitor's tag. He also thought about calling Diana and leaving some sort of warning with her. Before he could actually do it, though, the doors opened on a posh lobby, with a polished and perfectly dressed secretary waiting behind a marble desk that probably cost more than his Metropolis apartment. He approached her and plastered his best fake smile as the situation allowed.

"Hi, I have an appointment with Mr. Wayne," he said.

The secretary smiled warmly. "The front desk announced you. Mr. Harris, right? You can go right in, he's expecting you," she said, and pointed to another impressive oak door, this one the price of a brand new car.

He thanked her and walked right in.

Bruce closed his secure cell phone, after hearing what Alfred had said about his brief trips with Xander Harris. The man was smarter than anybody gave him credit for, and even his extensive Council files didn't do him justice. It was a small miracle Xander's life hadn't turned him into something he went about hunting at nights. The door opened, and Bruce stood up to greet him.

"Mr. Harris? Bruce Wayne," the millionaire approached, hand extended and his best fake smile on, only to see the man's remaining eye widen, size him up discreetly and go back to normal. It was almost imperceptible if you weren't expecting it, or hadn't had Bruce's training.

A smirk appeared on the young man's face and he shook the hand strongly. "It's a pleasure, Mr. Wayne. I've heard very good things about you."

"Most of them are lies, I assure you. Please, sit down," he protested humorously and pointed to a comfortable chair in front of his desk. "I've heard good things about you, as well."

"Well, given who Batman is, I have no doubt," Xander said, his smile widening somewhat. "So, what did he ask of you?"

"Batman is a mystery, even when he's being straightforward. He asked me to offer you a job, that you were good in what you did, and to give you some…leeway regarding job hours. He gave me a folder with a resume, and I decided to talk with you. So, Mr. Harris, what can you offer Wayne Enterprises?"

Xander then started talking about his job history outside the weirdness of the Underworld.

The interview took about an hour. Batman hadn't bother to check on Harris' job history, aside from where he had worked and how much money he had been paid on those jobs, so knowing how the man worked was actually a novel experience. Bruce saw a few pictures on his personal website – one concocted with the help of the Slayer's younger sister – and it gave him an idea that he did excellent work, and he already knew that he could keep secrets. Perhaps he could be used to help on Bruce's other… enterprises.

"Well, your resume doesn't do you justice, Mr. Harris; you do a very good job. What about we have a brief experience period so you can acclimate yourself with your co-workers, then we set something more appropriate when the trial period is over? That way I can see where best to put you."

"That would work for me, Mr. Wayne. However, I still have one last job I need to finish in Metropolis. It will take me about two weeks, and then after that, I'm yours. That works?"

"It does, Mr. Harris. Then I think I must say welcome to Wayne Enterprises."

"Thank you, sir."

"It was my pleasure. But I do have one last question. What gave me away?" Bruce asked, his face darkening considerably.

Xander looked sheepish, realizing he'd been had. Try to deceive a master detective and what you get for your troubles? Perhaps none of your bones intact. "If I say 'oops', can we close the subject?"

"Was it Diana? Or is it the 'One Who Sees' thing? What is it?" Bruce asked, voice closer to what he used while under the cowl.

"Damn annoying world-dominating-minion priests," Xander muttered darkly. "Diana said absolutely nothing, and it's not a thing. It's just something I can do, I don't know how. I can… see things that most people don't. Call it a Hellmouth side effect, or a result of my possessions, I don't know. Or maybe a metagene."

"What gave me away?" Bruce asked again.

"You're like a vamp, Bruce, you have a game face. I've learned to see through them a long time ago. Tell me, does that change anything?"

Wayne thought it over for a few moments. "A lot of people trust you with their secrets. I'm willing to do the same for now. Do not make me regret such a decision. As for the job offer, it is quite real. You do a good job."

"Thank you. So, we see each other in two weeks?"

Bruce's face cleared of all menace, and he got back into what he realized was his 'game face'. "We do. It was a pleasure, Mr. Harris," he said, standing up and stretching his hand.

"Until then, Mr. Wayne. And if you may, it's Xander," he said, and they shook hands.

"Until then, Xander."