The movie marathon continued for another nine and a half hours in silence. No changes. No alterations. Not at a thing went wrong. Then how did he escape? I set my head in my hands. A bitter taste entered my mouth as I bit down hard on my tongue. It seeped throughout my mouth, intermixing with the blood and hurt more than the pain. It was defeat.
Nearly thirty-two hours had passed with nothing to show for it. No plausible explanation as to why the Riddler escaped. No identity to his accomplice. Absolutely nothing. I swallowed the scream clawing its way up my throat. This was not the time for catharsis. It was time to act. I lifted my head from the darkened shroud and looked over at Gordon. He had passed out about an hour ago. We hadn't the heart to wake him up.
I contemplated standing up but a nudge from my left turned my attention to Bruce.
"I haven't seen this cop before."
"What do you mean?"
"I haven't seen this cop beforehand in the footage. He's brand new," he clarified.
At the sound of our voices, Jim awoke. "What's going on?" He asked groggily.
"I think we may just have found our accomplice," I answered.
Jim's head snapped to the laptop screen. All three of us focused attentively, holding our breath. Absorbed in what was transcribing on-screen I noticed we had all subconsciously inched closer to the computer.
"I don't recognize him," I whispered.
"That's because we haven't gotten a good look at his face. See how his hat is angled and how he's positioned himself? He knows where the camera is. He's deliberately hiding his face so we cannot find out who he is," Jim explained.
"He's mindful of his surroundings," Bruce added in a murmur.
We watched the last ten minutes unfold. The unknown officer walked around the cage. He passed right in front of the camera and then continued through the door out, but was not relieved by another officer. Jim reached forward and rewound the tape.
"What did you see?" I asked.
We watched once more as the cop walked right in front of the camera, alongside the Riddler. There was a slight tug of his pants where his keys would have been. Jim pointed to the screen, "That's what I saw. I just needed to double check."
"I've had patrol officers canvasing the Narrows for the past thirty-two hours," Jim informed us as well.
"Jim, you and I both know he's not there. He knows that would be the first place we'd check. He's somewhere closer. Somewhere within the city; someplace we wouldn't expect," I conjectured.
"I'll get every available cop to canvas Gotham in shifts. I'm sure you guys can let yourselves out?" Jim spoke walking out the door.
I turned around to Bruce. "You think you can do facial recognition?" I asked placing a hand on my hip.
He smiled, "I saw a partial. If I clean it up, I may be able to give you an identity."
"How long do you think it will take?"
"I'll have to cross reference with INTERPOL and several other databases. It could take up to a day, maybe longer," he responded, sticking a USB stick into the laptop.
Bruce removed the memory stick and returned it to his pocket. We left the Commissioner's office quietly. Jim saw us on our way out. He clasped a hand on my shoulder –a gesture of comfort in his books. "Go home. Get some sleep. There's nothing more we can do tonight-," he said as I interrupted with a smirk, "You mean this morning Gordon?"
"Ah yes, I did mean this morning. Keep your phone by you and off silent. I'll give you a phone call if anything changes," he informed me.
I opened my mouth to argue, but Jim interceded, "Sara, enough. You and I both know that working without sleep turns even the best cop into a walking vegetable. Don't push it. Go home and get some sleep –you look like you've been run over by a freight train," he scolded as he patted the shoulder he had once gripped.
I opened my mouth again to point out that he would not be getting any sleep, when Bruce stepped forward. "Have a nice morning Commissioner Gordon," He said as he casually placed a hand on the small of my back.
I looked over my shoulder as Bruce steered us out the door and waved good-bye to Jim.
Alfred was parked by the curb waiting for us. He had chosen the Rolls Royce –how fitting. The epitome of class and comfort Alfred was and so was the car he chose to emulate himself. I slid into the back seat to the far left. Bruce followed after and shut the car door.
"Have a productive night you two?" Alfred inquired glancing at us through the rearview mirror.
I answered in the negative at the same time Bruce answered in the positive. Bruce reached forward towards the driver seat and passed Alfred the USB stick. "When we get home Alfred, could you take this down to the southeast wing and insert it into the computer drive?" he asked.
"Of course Mr. Wayne. Would you like me to bring your breakfast up to your room when I'm done? I've prepared the most decadent fruit salad –" Alfred continued but was interrupted by Bruce, "That won't be necessary. Sara and I will be sleeping together in my room."
Alfred and my eyebrows rose at the same time. "Oh we will?" I asked in disbelief.
"Yes we will. When you receive a call from the commissioner I will be there to come in with you. I will also have firsthand knowledge. I have a feeling Gordon will not want to disclose specific information to a consultant, but he will to a fellow cop," he conjectured before continuing, "in the meantime we can rest just like you promised him."
"I promised no such thing!" I scoffed indignantly.
"I'm sure he doesn't bite Miss Sara," Alfred chuckled with a devilish grin on his face.
I crossed my arms as we pulled up in front of the manor. "Still seems a bit scandalous to me," I muttered under my breath.
Through the labyrinth of stairs and hallways, we entered Bruce's room. I tugged off my jacket and kicked off my shoes. When I turned back to the bed I saw Bruce laying blankets on the ground.
"What's this?" I asked pointing at the makeshift bed.
"I'm going to sleep on the ground."
"No you aren't. I can't very well kick you out of your own bed," I argued.
"As long as you feel comfortable," he spoke, a smile tugging the corner of his mouth.
I slid under the covers first and then he followed suit. After a few moments of awkward silence Bruce asked, the smile on his face oozing into his words, "What's this? No pillow barrier? I feel quite scandalized Sara."
"Go to sleep," I shot back.
It was the deep rumbling vibrations from his chest I remember lastly as my mind slipped into a deep slumber.
The late afternoon sun lazily hung onto my closed eyelids, illuminating my once darkened sphere. I flopped onto my stomach and groaned, "It's too early to get up."
I felt the rustling of sheets beside me, "You shouldn't complain, you've gotten the required eight of hours of sleep," Bruce murmured half asleep.
I pulled the covers over my head with another groan. "Don't pester me," I grumbled trying to settle down.
"What are you going to? Cry?" he joked, pulling the bedding from my face.
I propped myself up on my elbows. "No, I hate it when I cry," I spoke with a hollow laugh.
Bruce rolled over on his side, facing me. The sun fanned around the base of his neck, spreading a warm glow around his face. His head cocked to the side in question, he asked, "Why?"
"It makes me vulnerable," I sighed falling back onto the cool pillow.
I felt Bruce move. I turned my face out of curiosity and then felt the steady heat of his hand fall upon my cheek. His eyes buried their way deep into my own hoping to root something vital within my soul. "It makes you human," he spoke with the utmost sincerity.
"Being human has its costs. I wouldn't be where I am if I just gave up and cried all the time," I replied.
Bruce took a deep breath in, contemplating his next phrase. "Your willpower is merely one of the things...that I love about you," he spoke hesitantly.
I stiffened beside him, but this did not halt his monologue, "Your determination and resilience aid you well at the MCU, but a long time ago you built a wall between you and the outside world. I don't know if you are aware of this barrier you shove in the way of those close to you or if you just choose to ignore it. It may be easier for you to push on and continue to be ignorant, but the emotional strain will build once more. I fear if you can't rely upon someone it will consume you and in time break you."
He turned to face me once more. Nose to nose we gazed upon the other. "You don't have to hide from me Sara. Trust me and I will protect you. Always," he whispered.
His offer was so simple -so sincere that it should have frightened me. I should have been frightened of the unknown; Frightened of what he was confessing; frightened of the deep, rhythmic beating within my chest. Most of all I should have feared the reminiscent notions and emotions rising their way towards the surface along with the crimson flush on my skin. But with Bruce I never feared my safety or well-being and I knew I could count on him. He would keep his promise.
There was no hesitation in my mind (or body for that matter) when I slid closer to him and kissed him softly.
Our lips molded together out of habit. The familiar sense of flesh against flesh guided the friction of our mouths down my throat, nestling warmly in my abdomen. Instinctually, almost from memory Bruce wound an arm around my waist and pushed against the small of my back. Our chests collided and I could feel the rapid movement of cardiac muscle against bone through his shirt.
My hand gripped his shoulder, nails biting into his back. I pulled him on top of me with ease, shuddering as the heat from his body encased me. He deepened the kiss, nipping at my bottom lip. I fought back, raking my free hand through his hair and then clenching –hard. Bruce's lips tore away from mine only to place them on my throat. He chuckled at the thrumming pulse. "Maybe we should stop," he reasoned.
I let out a disgruntled sigh. He chuckled again, "I'm going to go downstairs and make some breakfast. Any requests?"
"Scrambled eggs?"
"Sounds good," he replied, kissing my forehead.
"Need any help?" I asked.
"I think I can manage well enough on my own. Lay down and rest," He kissed my nose before rolling out of bed.
I bunched the covers around myself, hoping to hold the recessing heat of the spot he once held in bed. "I've always liked the idea of breakfast in bed," I said aloud, hearing Bruce's laughter echo down the hall from the statement.
I reclined back into the mattress allowing myself to doze. It was a half hour later when Alfred entered Bruce's bedroom with a silver tray. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and self-consciously attempted to pat down the mangle of curled hair atop my head.
"Where's Bruce?" I inquired.
"Don't fret Miss Sara, Master Wayne is in the southeast wing. He should be up momentarily," Alfred replied.
A chill shot up my spine. "Are the chords still the same?" my voice shook as I asked Alfred.
"Pardon me my dear?" Alfred feigned confusion.
"Are the piano chords the same to get into the cave?" I elaborated more firmly.
Alfred sighed, "Yes, yes they are."
I stood up and walked to the door "Thanks Alfred," I said with a grim smile.
As my feet padded down the hallway past the grand staircase I heard Alfred call out, "You may want a sweater Miss Sara! It's quite chilly down there!"
I stopped, spun around on my heel, and walked back into Bruce's room. I snatched one of his pullovers and grabbed a mug of coffee off the tray. With a slight nod in acknowledgement to Alfred, I started back on my path towards the study in the southeast wing of the manse.
My bare feet padded along the hardwood as I approached the piano. I reached a hand forward and then halted mid-movement, contemplating. It was in the stillness that I noticed my hand quivering –it wasn't from the cold. It wasn't from fear either.
The cave held the part of Bruce's life that he had tucked far away from anyone else's sight. A select few knew Batman's identity, but even fewer had been to his lair. Would it be crossing a line to go down there again? When the line between Bruce and Batman had been muddled merely a year ago, I did not stay to see how it would play out. Were we ready now? I took a deep breath. My decision had been made. If I would not hide from Bruce, then he would not hide from me.
My hand moved instinctually to middle 'C' on the piano. Pointer finger on 'D' and middle finger on 'E' I pressed down on the keys. My hand redirected itself one octave higher repeating the same two notes and then finally moving my thumb down two keys, I pressed down upon 'G' and 'A'. With a click and prolonged creaking, the bookcase to my left opened.
The draft hit me first before the dampness clung to the edge of Bruce's sweater. I walked through the entrance and took extra measure to ensure the portal was firmly sealed before continuing on to the elevator –wouldn't want anyone sneaking now, would we?
The doors of the elevator opened, revealing an insulated (and illuminated) box to plunge into the dark. So, he had replaced the service elevator. With a deep breath I pressed my thumb on the only button on the wall. It was labeled 'B'. The journey took less than thirty seconds, much shorter than the two minutes I remember it taking the previous time. I took a long sip of my coffee before stepping out.
Bruce was sitting at an advanced computer system that had at least three screens from what I could see. He was on a raised platform in the middle of darkened pool. An expanse of several meters separated him from me and I couldn't see a way to reach him.
"I see you've updated the place. It looks nice," I said, making my presence known.
Bruce's head shot up from the computer screen. His eyes were wide and his mouth was slightly agape. I had taken him off guard. But with a slight shake of the head, Bruce was back. "I had to find a better place to hide the suit in case curious people stumbled upon it," he replied with an all-knowing smile.
"The company is still the same though," he added, pointing up to the bats overhead.
I nodded and smiled. "Would you know of a way for me to get over there?" I called out.
"Just walk over to the edge."
"Bruce, I can't walk on water," I retorted.
He chuckled. "I bet if you put your mind to it you could. Just walk to the edge, a ramp with rise from the water," he reassured me.
I stepped forward. Sure enough, a bridge rose from the depths connecting us. I walked over and behind Bruce, leaning my elbows on his shoulders.
On one computer screen was a shot of the Riddler's accomplice. On another various mug shots were flying on screen. Their eyes, nose, and mouth were being triangulated for a match to our unknown. The final screen revealed a radar system.
I passed my mug of coffee to Bruce. He took a sip while I asked, "Any luck?"
"Nothing yet, but there's still approximately three hours left until the search through INTERPOL is complete," he responded.
"In the meantime, I'm going to do some of my own digging. Maybe even tie up a few loose ends," he murmured, deep in thought.
I raised an eyebrow in question.
Bruce rose and shrugged on the jacket sprawled along the back of the chair. "I'm going to visit Lieutenant Johnson, alone," He spoke firmly.
Resigned, I nodded solemnly. "Are you going in the suit?"
"No, I think this is a visit best done face to face. No masks," he informed me, walking into the elevator.
"Break a leg!" I shouted as the doors closed.
I sighed. Now it was just me, myself…and the bats.
Okay so there's the extra long chapter! So sorry for the wait, schools been kicking my ass lately. Thanks to all the reviewers and the loyal readers, its because of you that the story continues! Don't stop now! Thanks for reading, let me know what you think!
~Cece