July 7

With his eyes firmly fixed on his cell, Barsad waited for what he knew would come any minute. It was a call he was not looking forward to and for a very good reason. He had failed in his assignment and knew his commander would be none too pleased with him upon the discovery. He'd pulled out all the stops to locate Alexei, but his profuse efforts had been for naught, and he was no closer to his goal than he had been a week prior. Finding the Holy Grail would have been a more feasible task than tracking down their stealthy ally who had gone off the map half a decade earlier.

Like Talia, Alexei was someone from Bane's past. But unlike Talia, Barsad actually liked the Russian. He was a straight-shooting, no-nonsense type whose loyalty to those he counted as friends knew no bounds. And like Bane, he was also a man shrouded in mystery, so much so that even members of his inner circle didn't know much about his life. Among the rumors circulating about him was that he was an ex-KGB agent who had risen up the ranks to become one of the right-hands of Vladimir Putin himself, but neither of those claims had ever been substantiated. Alexei's assistance at such a precarious time would have been invaluable—if anyone had spies in the FBI he did—but it seemed like the man didn't want to be found by anyone. And as if Barsad wasn't handicapped enough, Bane had given him nothing whatsoever to go on. No starting point, no list of known haunts, nothing. It almost seemed as if he were being set up for failure. Barsad did not want to believe that, but it was a suspicion he just couldn't shake.

When the phone finally rang, he reluctantly answered.

"I hope you have good news."

There was no sense in delaying the inevitable.

"I didn't find him."

Knowing from the get-go that the mission would most likely not succeed, Bane could not be justifiably angry with Barsad.

"I figured as much. I want you to know that I do not view it as incompetence on your part."

Barsad could have been knocked over by a feather following the astonishing pronouncement. He was expecting more along the lines of 'Has my faith in you been misplaced, brother?' or 'I'm not surprised, as your list of shortcomings is becoming quite long indeed.' To say that the masked man frowned on failure was an understatement in every sense of the word; he was no stranger to imposing death sentences on those who did not meet their objectives. Not in recent memory had he exhibited such calmness and understanding in the face of such abject disappointment. This was definitely not the Bane Barsad was used to. The benign reaction rendered him momentarily speechless and caused his desire to deliver results to multiply tenfold.

"I'll go to the ends of the earth if I have to. I will find him, you have my word."

"I appreciate your zeal on the matter. I knew that success in that arena was a long-shot, but I had to exhaust all options. He will be found, of that I have no doubt. But it will have to wait until my return, which is the second reason for my call to you today. My time here is drawing to a close. This week will be the last."

Barsad was relieved, for the League was aimless without him and in desperate need of the direction only he could provide. He hoped their leader would scrap his plans to finish what they started in Gotham now that he knew the truth about Talia, but he wasn't holding his breath. Bane made a promise, and Barsad had never known him to intentionally break his word, especially when it came to Talia.

"It will be good to have you back, brother."

"You should know that Katharine will not be joining us in Budapest."

Bane's promulgation sent a chill up Barsad's spine. Bane had informed him at the outset that she would have to be disposed of in the event she was unable to assimilate into their way of life. He'd always hoped it would not come to that, that she would be able to prove herself to Bane in time, but his optimism on the subject was immediately quashed by the dour declaration. He knew she could already be dead. And if she was, her blood would be on his hands. Though he knew the answer to his next question, he asked it anyway.

"Why's that?"

"I have decided to release her."

"What do you mean?"

"I wasn't aware I was being vague. I am letting her go."

Barsad was allayed and alarmed simultaneously. His relief stemmed from the fact that she hadn't suffered an untimely demise because of him, the concern pertained to what she would do once she was back out in the world again.

"You're serious?"

"Have I ever been known to joke? I thought you would be pleased; as I remember you were quite perturbed by the alternative."

"I am, but once she finds out about the reward she might . . ."

"In the unlikely event that she does go to the authorities, the only information she can give them is that I am alive. And since they are already operating on that assumption, the revelation will be far from earth-shattering. As for the reward, she will only stand to collect if she can lead them to me which she absolutely cannot."

"How can you be so sure she won't talk?"

"The subject is closed, I'll hear no more on the matter. I will need you to transport the both of us next Saturday."

"What about the plane?"

"It is in the hangar where it shall remain for the time being. I don't want to fly this time, it's too conspicuous. I will text you the coordinates of our location in the coming days. From here you will take her to the nearest commercial airport and provide her with enough money for a ticket out of the country."

"How close are you?"

"Closer than you think. Be here at noon."

"The fourteenth at noon, got it."

"Good. I will see you in a week."

Bane hung up, and Barsad was left to wonder what had prompted his boss to come to such a startling decision. It didn't make any sense at first, but the more he thought about it, the more the pieces of the puzzle started to gradually come together.

Bane had never spoken ill of her to him during their phone conversations, a detail that Barsad never really gave much thought to in the past but surprised him retrospectively. He once even referred to the two of them as 'we,' a term he never employed in regard to himself except in reference to the League. He also called her Katharine as opposed to Kate. Was that her preferred name? If so, was he calling her that out of fondness? Surely not, thought Barsad. Bane wasn't fond of anyone save Talia; the most even his own followers could expect from him was indifference and toleration. But they were all men, and Kate was an attractive woman whom he had been shut away with for nearly three months. Barsad recalled the late Walsh's speculation that Bane had taken her with him for the purpose of sexual gratification. The theory wasn't that far-fetched, as she would been a lure for most any man. But even if that were the case, there was still no way she could have convinced him to release her, not with such a substantial reward looming over him. No one alive could get Bane to do anything he didn't want to, which led Barsad to come to the only conclusion he could.

He's letting her go because he wants to.

But why does he want to? What does he possibly stand to gain from it? And why the hell is he being so nice?

July 9

On an uncommonly crisp, rainy afternoon, Katharine hung on Bane's every word as he read aloud to her from his favorite book, A Tale of Two Cities. She'd read it in high school but had forgotten nearly everything about it over the years. The altered voice she'd once found intimidating and occasionally indecipherable had in time become clear and comforting. Her mother's maternal instincts had been lacking at best therefore she had no treasured story time memories from childhood. As her head rested on his mammoth chest, she also relished the hum of his heart thumping directly into her ear. Holding the thick tome in one hand, he gently caressed her waist with the other. It was as if he instinctively knew what she wanted at any given moment, knew exactly what do to make her feel good. She felt more than good; she felt wanted, and to her that was the most wonderful feeling in the world.

During the week since their alfresco rendezvous she'd done little more than think of him. Well, that and have sex with him. Lots and lots of sex. His carnal appetite was rapacious and very contagious as it turned out. They never went a day without doing the deed, and most days once was not enough for either of them. She had always been somewhat reserved when it came to conveying her desires to her past partners, but with Bane it was different. She was different. Her skittishness was a thing of the past, and she was not even the least bit shy around him anymore.

As great as it was, there was a downside to their intense physicality; the more they coupled, the more attached to him she felt herself becoming. And she knew from past experience that that was treacherous territory. She tried relentlessly to emotionally distance herself, to quash her budding feelings, but she was fighting a losing battle. She attempted to convince herself that it was just sex and nothing more, but the way he looked at her at times told her she might be wrong. And that wasn't the only thing that caused her to question the depth of their relationship. There were all the other little things he did for her that he didn't have to; letting her drive, cooking her dinner, doing the dishes, reading to her, endlessly complimenting her. And the way he took care of her and expressed genuine concern for her well-being after her mental meltdown was perhaps the most compelling piece of evidence. It had to mean he cared at least a little. Didn't it?

Upon concluding the second chapter, he laid Dickens's magnum opus on the nightstand nearest to him and transferred the previously disposed hand to her forearm.

"That was so nice," she acclaimed his recitation.

"You could actually understand my garbled speech at length?"

"Of course I could, silly," she said after giving him a playful pinch. "I really like when you read to me."

"I haven't read orally in years. Not since . . ." his sentence abruptly ceased.

She knew what he was about to say. And due to the sensitive subject matter she didn't know whether to encourage him to continue or adhere to silence.

"I apologize, I did not intend to taint our conversation."

"You didn't. If you want to talk about it . . ."

"No, I will not let her ruin our final week here."

"I'm glad to hear you say that."

"Come here," he turned his head towards her.

"I am here."

"You're not close enough."

"Well we'll have to fix that then, won't we?" she asked and lain her body atop his. "How's this?"

"Perfect," he said approvingly and wrapped his arms around her as she kissed his mouthpiece.

It always took him by surprise when she did that. The gesture touched him because no one else had ever done it before. She didn't have to do it nor did he expect her to, but she did anyway. The simple act implied acceptance, which was something he had never felt from a woman and just one of the many things he knew he would miss after they parted ways for good.

He hadn't told her yet. He'd tried to numerous times but always stopped short at the last minute. Part of him believed his procrastination was due to not wanting to spoil their last days together; the other part was too busy trying to persuade him to take her with him.

As his mind raced, she remained on top of him. His train of thought was derailed by the attention she was lavishing upon his neck. She planted one sweet peck after another until his negative thoughts began to drift away.

He placed his hands on her midsection and methodically slid her shorts and panties down her smooth stems. Following the removal of her lower garments, he cupped her backside with both hands as she rose and removed her shirt and bra. She was ideal in his eyes, his flawless flower. But she would not be his for much longer. He couldn't think about that. He had to have her as much as he could before he couldn't, before she was nothing more than a wistful memory.

They'd employed a variety of sexual positions, all of which had their charms. But this time he wanted to be on top of her, to engulf her body with his, to feel every part of her. Once they were both nude he took her in his arms once again and gently transplanted her beneath him. Her eyes were locked onto his, and they gazed at one other for several moments. The way she looked at him was unique as well. Her affection for him was obvious, and he wondered if his for her was as lucent or even more so. As he became lost in her starry eyes, he slipped his stiff shaft into her soaked slit. She let out a sensuous sigh and ran her delicate hands up and down his back as he slowly pushed his organ back and forth inside her fully lubricated kernel.

She liked it fast, but she loved it slow. It seemed to mean more, like he was making love to her rather than just fucking her. But she knew that kind of thinking was beyond foolhardy. He didn't love her. And that was okay because she didn't love him either. She liked him—immensely—but that was all there was to it. She didn't love anyone. She wouldn't. She couldn't. Love was too dangerous, and she wanted no part of it with anyone.

Less thought, more sex.

With that goal in mind she raised herself up with her arms and arched her back in order to feel it even more. He normally increased his pace, but this time he didn't. He'd never been so slow and deliberate for so long. It felt incredible. She really didn't want him to speed up, but she needed him to.

"Faster," she whispered.

It almost sounded like a demand, which ordinarily would have been fine—as he always aimed to please her—but there was something unusual about her tone that put him off. The way she said it gave him the impression that she didn't really mean it. He had observed her the entire time, and there were no indications that she wasn't enjoying his method. On the contrary, she seemed entirely into it. So why was she opposed to it all of a sudden?

"Are you sure?"

She wanted to answer him, but she couldn't talk because she was in the middle of coming. With her fingers dug into the sheets, her head tilted back slightly, and she moaned in sweet release. He stared at her in confusion for a few seconds before lowering his torso onto hers.

"Fuck," she said between breaths.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I wanted us to get off at the same time, but I messed everything up."

He could tell she was upset, and he also knew the reason she gave was not the real cause of her acute distress.

"You did no such thing. Tell me what's wrong."

"It's just that . . . no one's ever . . . been with me the way you are. What I mean is . . ."

"You have never been properly treated by a man."

"I guess not."

"I haven't exactly broken that trend."

"Of course you have. Why would you say such a thing?"

"I forcibly brought you here, Katharine. Surely you have not forgotten that so soon."

"I won't deny that we didn't get off on the right foot. But things are different now, aren't they?"

"It doesn't change the fact that I have behaved badly towards you."

"You're being too hard on yourself," she affirmed and massaged the back of his neck. "The good you've done where I'm concerned far outweighs the bad."

"Is that why you want to stay . . . with me?"

"One of them."

"What are the others?"

"Do you really want to do this now? You haven't even finished."

"That can wait. Tell me why you want to stay. I must know."

"I like being with you. I like you, Bane."

Her alien words struck a chord deep within him, made him feel things he didn't want to.

"Do you like me?" she asked.

"Yes I do. Very much."

"Since you brought it up, why did you bring me here?"

He didn't want to lie to her, but telling her the truth would ensure that their last week together would be anything but pleasant. So he lied. Again.

"I thought you would be more comfortable here."

"You're lying."

"It seems my acuity is rubbing off on you."

"Please tell me the truth."

"I told myself it was so I could keep an eye on you, make sure you would not escape. But that was not the real reason."

"What is the real reason?"

"I didn't want to be alone, strange as that may seem."

"You could have brought one of your men."

"Being cooped up in a small space with another man wasn't exactly an appealing notion. You were a much more attractive candidate for a roommate."

"Guess you got me there."

"Though I must admit, I didn't plan on anything happening between us."

"That makes two of us. But I'm glad it did."

"As am I."

"Now that that's settled," she smiled and stroked him to get him hard again.

While his lovely slept soundly beside him several hours after their latest union, Bane found himself in a state of restlessness. Talia al Ghul may have been physically dead, but the revengeful woman's memory still loomed large for her sworn protector, and her ghost haunted him for months after her passing. He thought about her incessantly during the day, dreamed about her constantly at night, and wished every waking moment that she was alive because she had been his everything, his very reason for living. And then came the rude awakening about his muse. In a way the truth had set him free, but the liberty was bittersweet and came at a high cost.

Not wanting to disrupt Katharine's rest with his tossing and turning, he carefully maneuvered out of bed and went outside for some fresh air. The stars were out in full-force, and the chirping of countless swarms of crickets was the only sound to be heard for miles. The serene setting was like something out of a poem, by far the most peaceful place he'd ever lived and one he knew he would miss.

Coming to terms with the fact that one of the only two people he had ever loved had played him for a fool and used him so callously was proving to be a difficult challenge. He'd always worn his heart on his sleeve when it came to Talia; there was not a thing he wouldn't have done for her. And she knew it and saw fit to reward his love and devotion by betraying him in the end. But that was nothing new to her, as she had been duping him all along. He had been nothing more to her than a puppet she knew would do her bidding without question.

He had been too blind to see what everyone around him clearly did but were not crazy enough to let him in on. Each of his men knew what she meant to him, and he knew they rightly assumed he would kill any one of them who spoke out against her. He had nearly slain Barsad, his most trusted and loyal comrade, upon hearing his misgivings about her. Nothing or nobody could have made him believe that Talia was anything other than his irreproachable angel. That is until his former hostage did so inadvertently with an innocuous literary analysis. Since then he had wallowed through two of the three stages of grief, namely denial and anger. The initial phase didn't last very long, as he was a man of logic and was therefore unable to dismiss the indisputable facts. As he sat tensely on the porch, he recalled the first time her true colors began to show.

After Talia drove her blade through Bruce Wayne's high-tech armor, Bane listened as she told their nemesis of their heartrending history.

"I climbed out of the pit," she said in a near whisper as she reconnected the tubes that delivered Bane's vital medication.

"I found my father and brought him back to exact terrible vengeance," continued Talia. "But by that time, the prisoners and doctor had done their work to my friend, my protector. The League took us in, trained us, but my father could not accept Bane. He saw only a monster whose very existence was a reminder of the hell he'd left his wife to die in. He excommunicated Bane from the League of Shadows. His only crime was that he loved me," she gazed warmly at Bane.

Her words moved him to tears as he looked at her in veneration. So infinite was his love for her he doubted even Armageddon itself could obliterate it.

"I could not forgive my father . . . until you murdered him," she glowered at her father's vanquisher.

She may have pardoned Ra's, but Bane extended his extruder no such exoneration. He had taken away his only light and thereby plunged him into darkness, an unforgivable transgression in Bane's eyes.

Once Bane regained his strength he began binding Wayne while Talia continued to excoriate the defeated vigilante at some length before pressing the button on the trigger. When nothing happened, she quickly realized that their enemy had somehow enabled Commissioner Gordon to block the signal. Fortunately she had a contingency plan that involved assembling a convoy in order to personally ensure the bomb's detonation.

"Don't kill him," she told Bane. "I want him to feel the heat, feel the fire of twelve million souls you failed."

This was not the plan they had agreed on years before. They were supposed to die together, side by side, united in death as they had been in life. But she was leaving him again, and this time her departure was not in accordance with his wishes.

"Goodbye my friend," she bid him a final farewell as she grazed his mask before walking away from him forever.

He'd never felt more alone in his life, not even when he was being tortured day and night in the bowels of the pit. His only love had just left him to die without her after he had given her his life. How could she do such a thing to him?

He only had eleven more minutes. And since he would not be spending them the way he wanted to, he decided to forego Talia's command and allow himself the pleasure of executing Gotham's misguided champion.

"We both know that I have to kill you now," Bane declared before kicking Wayne to the floor. "You'll just have to imagine the fire," he bellowed and aimed a shotgun to his victim's face at close range. Just when he was about to shoot, a sudden, powerful discharge sent him airborne. He crashed to the floor and heard a familiar voice soon after. It belonged to someone who had once worked for him, a shameless crook by the name of Selina Kyle. As he silently cursed the day he'd recruited her, everything went black.

When he awoke he felt someone who he presumed was a random thief rifling through his pockets. He could not have stopped the person even if he'd wanted to, for his entire body was numb with paralysis. As he stared straight up at the ceiling of City Hall his ears detected a faint feminine voice, but not that of the double-crossing bitch who'd shot him. He couldn't make out a word of what she was saying, a symptom he attributed to the deafening noise of the blast. When he finally caught a glimpse of the woman as she hovered over him once again, he was sure he was hallucinating. It couldn't be her, it just couldn't be.

He was alive, but he knew his time was running out. Perhaps for a few more seconds or even minutes, but that was it. Accepting his fate—the destiny he himself had designed—he closed his eyes and waited for eternal sleep.

Fortunately fate had other plans for Bane. He somehow survived his critical injuries, but a full recovery was never a certainty. After undergoing six hours of emergency surgery at one of the League's secret locations in Gotham, he was clandestinely transported out of the country to the Tunisian redoubt along with what remained of his forces. Shortly after their arrival he lapsed into a month-long coma. When he finally came out of it, Barsad told him of being assisted by a woman. It was then that Bane knew the woman in question had to the beauty he'd saved from being raped. After all, who else would have had any reason to help him? He knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would be dead if it were not for her act of benevolence. Whereas Talia had repaid his sacrifice with abandonment, Katharine had returned his kindness even after he'd nearly ended her life along with millions of others without so much as a second thought.

After much soul-searching he came to a decision on that foggy eve. He had tried to push the truth away, tried beating it into submission, but neither of those strategies had reduced his pain. The time had come to accept that Talia had not been who he thought she was, who he wanted her to be. He knew it would not happen overnight, that it may take months or even years to get there, but his determination was solidified that night in rural Romania, and he vowed to never again let her control his actions.

July 11

In the early hours of the morning, Bane scooted towards Katharine so that he could hold her close to him but was disappointed when he felt nothing but an empty space. He looked over at the clock; it was barely seven o'clock. Her absence was odd, as she hardly ever got up so early. He groggily climbed out of bed and set off to find out what she was up to.

As soon as he opened the door he had his answer. There she was—scantily clad in only a tank top and panties—happily humming and frolicking around the kitchen while making breakfast. She was oblivious to his presence just a few feet away due to her melodiousness and the sizzling of the skillet. The word cute had no place in his lexicon, but that's exactly how he would describe her in those moments. While he watched her hop around as if she had not a care in the world, what was left of his heart sank. In two days she would be gone. He would never again see her sweet smile, hear her velvety voice, feel her beauteous body. Oh how he would miss his flower so.

When she finally noticed him, she gasped in mortification.

"Jesus! Sneak much?"

"I wasn't sneaking; I was merely viewing from a moderate distance."

"You should have said something."

"Why's that?"

"Because if I'd known you were there I wouldn't have been prancing around like an idiot."

"You speak nonsense. You are nothing of the kind."

His gentlemanliness never ceased to amaze her.

"Thanks. I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I know. I'm just not used to anyone seeing me dancing half naked. Well, not in private anyway," she corrected her statement when she remembered her old job.

"What are you doing up so early?"

"I was going to bring you breakfast in bed. It was supposed to be a surprise."

"You didn't have to do that, Katharine."

"I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to."

And that would be the hardest part of letting her go.

"I apologize for my intrusion."

"It's okay," she smiled. "Well, it's about done. Hope you're hungry because what you see here is the last of the breakfast food."

"Famished, actually."

"Give me a minute to put some pants on, and I'll be right back."

As she began strolling past him, he reached for her arm and pulled her gently onto his lap. He stared into her eyes and stroked her face in a way that made her heart skip a beat. She mimicked his action and took his head in her hands.

"Thank you," he said in a mechanical whisper.

"No big deal, it's only an omelette."

"Not just for that."

"What then?"

"For everything you've done. For being who you are."

His words permeated her very soul. Just when she thought he couldn't possibly say something nicer to her, he always managed to top himself. She strove to stop the waterworks, but it was no use. When a single tear managed to escape her eye, he wiped it away with his thumb and soothed her as only he could.

"I hope nothing changes after we leave . . . with you and me," she said softly.

Everything will change.

"You're not going to . . . ignore me when we're back with the others, are you?"

"No, sweet one. That is not going to happen."

It won't happen because you won't be there.

"Will I see you often? Will we still sleep together in the same room?"

Her questions were worsening his dilemma. The lies were gutting him; he'd told more than he thought he would have to, and his continuous deception was becoming too much. He couldn't put off his task for much knew there would never be a perfect time to tell her, but it was something he had to do and soon. But not now, not when she was so vulnerable. He wanted to delay it until their penultimate day at the cabin. It was either that or lose her before he absolutely had to. In the meantime he needed to get her off the subject so he wouldn't have to mislead her even more.

"I will always act in your best interest, Katharine. I promise you that. We should eat before it gets cold. We wouldn't want to pass up our last breakfast here, would we?"

"Say no more," she smiled and released her hold on him.

Forgetting all about her lack of legwear, she skittered back to the stove and presented him with a steaming egg dish he'd never before sampled. It was delicious just like everything she made for him. Her cooking had spoiled him, and he was not enthused about his upcoming reversion to an exclusively pre-packaged diet. There was nothing about his exodus that he was looking forward to. Not one damn thing.

July 12

When Bane went on his regular run that evening, Katharine opted to stay behind in order to give him some alone time. As much as she adored being with him, she knew how important it was for a person to not feel crowded. She wasn't clingy; she didn't need to be with him every second of the day. Besides, she also enjoyed a bit of solitude every now and then. With him out for a while she seized the opportunity to spiff up their digs. As she went from one room to another with her bag of cleaning supplies, she took the time to examine each and every detail of the tenement, for she did not know if they would ever return to the place where her life had finally changed for the better.

When she arrived in her former bedroom—a zone in which she'd hardly stepped foot in weeks—she decided to take a break. She knew the room had most assuredly belonged to Talia at one point in time. She didn't know much about the mysterious woman who had all but destroyed Bane's life, but that was more than enough to earn her total disdain.

Bane cut his excursion short that day, as he wanted to spend as much time with Katharine as possible. When he returned he found her hard at work scrubbing the bathroom sink.

"In a cleaning mood, are you?" he asked as he stood in the doorway.

"We only have two more days here, and I will not have this place looking like it did when we showed up."

"There's really no need for the extra effort. If it ever does get new tenants, it will be a long time from now and by then the dust will have re-accumulated."

"It's all right, I don't mind."

"I do."

"Why?" she turned her head and looked at him confoundedly.

"I will not have you toiling away in unnecessary activities. You should relax and enjoy yourself for the remainder of our stay."

"Speaking of enjoyment, I can think of a few things in that particular area," she dropped the scrubbing brush in the sink and sashayed over to him.

They embraced one another in yet another unadulterated display of affection. She held no objections, for there was nowhere she'd rather be than in his big, strong arms. Assuming he would whip her off to the bedroom any second, but he didn't. Instead he remained still and held onto her for dear life as if she was about to evaporate into nothingness at any moment.

"Is everything okay?" she asked as she snuggled into him.

Nothing is okay.

"Everything is fine, my . . ." he stopped himself from uttering his secret pet name for her.

"What?" she looked up at him.

Silence.

"Why'd you stop? What were you going to say?"

"Nothing," he asserted and broke away from her. "It is of no importance, I assure you. We should take an early night, we have much packing to do tomorrow."

"I've only got one bag. You, on the other hand, have about a dozen. Judging by your luggage, I thought we'd be away for a year."

"Most of those items proved utterly useless all the way out here. Thousands of dollars of allegedly advanced equipment, and I can't even get an Internet connection."

"I suppose your loss was my gain."

"What do you mean?"

"If you had Internet all this time, you probably wouldn't have given me a second look."

"More foolish talk. Keep it up, and I might just spank you," he jokingly threatened.

"That sounds more like an incentive," she grinned.

"Are you tired?"

"All that cleaning did wear me out a little. I suppose I could use some sleep."

"Shall we?" he asked and outstretched his hand to her.

"Lead the way, kind sir," she smiled and placed her hand in his.

Once they were in the bedroom they began their sleep preparations. After changing for bed, they curled up together as always, and it didn't take long for things to heat up. Katharine mounted him and suckled his bare chest while he placed one hand in her silken hair and another on her upper thigh. She started at the top and worked all the way down to his abdomen where she freed his cock from confinement. Thinking she was going to ride him again, he was somewhat taken aback when she took his penis in her mouth and began bobbing her head up and down.

This was new. She'd never gone down on him before, and the fact that she was doing servicing him in a way he never had for her filled him with a sense of unworthiness. He may have been undeserving of the gift she was so generously giving him, but it was far too good a treat to pass up. It had been years since he'd experienced a woman's mouth on his manhood, and her performance far outshined those that had come before her. Her tempo and precision were masterful, her tongue movements impeccable. She needed no lessons whatsoever in the art of fellatio.

Her sexual experience may have been somewhat limited, but she had given her fair share of blowjobs. Giving head wasn't something she'd ever approached with enthusiasm, and she had good reason, as all her exes had demanded the act as if it were an entitlement. She would not have had a problem with it had it not been for their refusal to reciprocate. She was far too shy to ask back then, but she was of the belief that any decent partner would have returned the favor without having to be asked. But like everything else, it was different with Bane. He'd never demanded it or even requested it. And that was why she wanted to please him in a way she never had before. Unlike his predecessors, he had a legitimate excuse for not performing cunnilingus on her, and she could not punish him for what he had no control over. His time without the mask was very restricted, and she'd much rather spend it tasting his plump lips and delectable mouth.

She was surprised by just how much she was enjoying sucking him off. The sounds of sheer satisfaction that emanated from his enclosed mouth filled her with joy. He had suffered such immeasurable pain in his life, and there was nothing she wouldn't do to try to brighten his dark days. She doubted he would ever achieve pure happiness—as that was nothing more than a pipe dream for most—but she would do everything she could to make his existence more tolerable.

Knowing his climax was imminent, he alerted her in a timely manner. Despite his warning, she maintained her position until she felt the bursting of his seed in her mouth. His cum was warm, thick, and remarkably inoffensive in taste. She couldn't help but feel proud of her accomplishment.

While Katharine went to brush her teeth, Bane reveled in the aftermath of copulation. He couldn't get over how good she always made him feel. When his body normalized, reality again gripped him. By this time tomorrow she would know the truth; the day after that she would be gone.

He may not have been an expert when it came to the opposite sex, but he wasn't dense either. He knew she had feelings for him; what he didn't know was how deep they went. She admitted to liking him, but he suspected she was holding back. He had done his best to avoid such complexities from arising, but he ultimately failed, which was unfortunately something he'd been doing a lot of lately.

He had to set her free. Not for his sake but for hers, for a life on the run with a marked man was no kind of life for a woman of her quality. But he didn't want to, not in the least. He liked her, wanted her, and even cared about her. She accepted him as he was which he knew would not be an easy feat for anyone. She didn't judge him or hold a grudge against him for what he had done. Being with her felt so incredibly natural. Now more than ever he wished his life were different for no other reason than so he could keep her with him.

His brooding session was brought to a halt by her return. She leapt onto the bed and cuddled up to him.

"I'll help you pack tomorrow if you want," she offered as she rubbed his bare muscles in a circular motion.

"I can manage, but thank you anyway."

"I really want to," she said in a sing-song voice.

"Then you shall," he submitted and hugged her close before turning off the lamp.

"Thank you for the . . . oral stimulation."

"You're welcome," she said amidst a yawn.

Sleep well, my flower.

Katharine woke up a couple of hours later with a pressing need for the bathroom. She wiggled out of bed as quietly as possible with the hope of not waking Bane. Familiarized with the layout of the rooms she was able to navigate in near darkness. Within two minutes she was back in bed.

He was on his side facing her. As she listened to his pronounced respiration, she reflected on their time at the cabin and just how much they had evolved in those three months.

Despite all his misbegotten deeds, she could see there was still a good man inside of him; she would not have chosen to stay with him if she believed otherwise. For the first time ever, she was optimistic about her future, and she had Bane to thank for that. She didn't care where they were going because she knew everything would be okay as long as they were together. That type of thinking had worried her mere days before, but she was through living her life in fear. She wanted him, he wanted her, and that was all that mattered.

Filled with a sense of peace, she nestled into him and closed her eyes. Within seconds her body was overcome by inexplicable sensations that caused her eyes to open. Her head was light, her stomach was warm, her heart was calm. What she was experiencing was the complete opposite of a panic attack. It didn't feel bad at all, far from it. She'd never felt anything like it which caused her to wonder what was going on inside her. Within seconds it all became clear in an epiphany she likened to an array of dark clouds that slowly parted to reveal the sun.

I love him.

Author's Note: Sorry it took me two weeks to get this one posted. Not sure if it's up to my standards or not. I didn't have much time to write the first week after the last one, and then I went into a funk that inhibited my creativity for a while. And since I really didn't want to go three weeks without an update, I cranked this one out as fast as I could. I'll do a reread in the coming days, and if I think there is room for improvement I will go back and revise as always.

So they have one more day until the cabin becomes a memory. Will Katharine tell Bane she loves him? Will Bane really let Katharine go? All of your burning questions will be answered soon.

I've finished fine tuning the grand majority of the previous chapters. I wanted to scream when I saw how bad some of my sentences were. There are probably still a few undesirable elements that escaped the axe, but I think I got most of them. At least I hope I did. It took me a while to find my voice, but I finally did and couldn't be happier about it.

Thanks to my very loyal reviewers AvalonTheLadyKiller, Schuneko, Guest x, Comingsummers and newcomer ElleDesperado for their appraisals of the last chapter. Your encouraging words mean so much to me.

I can has more reviews? Pretty please?