Hi all,
This is… basically just a fluff chapter, and I couldn't be happier about it.
I do feel compelled to add a brief disclaimer now in case it isn't your cup of tea: there will be some explicit material in the next few chapters.
As always, all of my gratitude for your ongoing reading and reviews. An extra thanks goes for letting me jump ship then reach for a lifeline on the main story. It will be slower going for a tiny bit, but I hope to post something for that soon.
Cheers,
EQT.95
"Hold that, will you?" The voice came from the lobby. Instinctively, Sophie extended her arm to block the elevator doors from closing. She was greeted a moment later by the appreciative nod of Bruce Wayne as he slipped his broad-shoulders into the elevator next to her.
"Thanks," he muttered, tapping the top floor's button and glancing at his watch.
"Late for something, sir?"
"I'm always late for something," he replied coolly as the doors slid closed. "You're here early."
"Only because I don't like being late for things," Sophie replied dryly before she caught herself, realizing who she'd just said that to. Yes, Bruce was Kate's cousin. Yes, they'd had a decent conversation months ago. But none of that mattered because in this moment he was her boss. Just because they had common ground in Kate didn't hide that fact. Her look of horror met an amused smirk on Bruce's face. "I.. sorry, I-"
"I see why Kate likes you so much," he muttered. His strained look from a moment earlier relaxed. "I assume you also keep her on her toes."
"Oh, uh I… try?"
"Let's grab lunch."
Sophie responded with a squint of confusion.
"You've been here a month," Bruce explained. "It's a tradition with all interns that I take them out for one-on-ones. Gives them a chance to… network."
"Oh."
"Wednesday work for you?" Bruce asked. "How does Indian sound?"
It was rhetorical. It's not like she had a say in the matter. Except.
"I… yes, but…"
"But what? No Indian?" Bruce asked with some surprise.
"No, but… uh, well maybe you could meet with Kate instead?"
Sophie didn't count this as courage. She was all nerves when it came to authority, and this was, at face value, no different. But this wasn't about face value. This was about Kate, and for Kate she could take on anything.
"What?" Bruce asked. There was a look of genuine surprise on his face. It looked as unfamiliar as it probably felt for it to contort that way.
"You've cancelled on her twice."
"Work is work; she knows better than anyone what that means-"
"I know, and she isn't blaming you," Sophie rushed, "but… I think she could use it."
Bruce's surprise quickly morphed into a stoic appraisal of her. She could practically see the neurons at work behind his piercing blue eyes. They weren't green but they had the same focused, intensive quality as Kate's. It comforted Sophie. It also put her on edge because she knew what those eyes were capable of.
"Do you know how many people would kill for lunch with me?" Bruce asked as he considered her proposal.
"I'm sure plenty, sir. You must have a very high body count by now."
"And you want to give it up, so I can have lunch with my cousin," he continued.
Sophie realized stoicism must be a Kane thing. Bruce's face was practically empty except for the slight spark in his eyes. Sophie had enough experience with Kate to know it was a mix of shock and suspicion.
"I... yes, I do."
A moment passed. A less courageous Sophie would have already assumed she'd just ruined any opportunity for either herself or Kate. That less courageous version started showing up the longer the silence lasted until finally: "Fine."
"Really?" Sophie asked, unable to contain her own hopeful surprise. She didn't have the Kane magic when it came to expressions.
"Yes. You're a strange bird, Ms. Moore," Bruce admitted, studying her with renewed curiosity.
"I've been called worse," Sophie smirked, taking it as a win.
"Mm," Bruce replied, already lost in a different thought. "Well, I'm sure I can make Thursday work, too. Do you like Indian or sushi?"
"Really?" Sophie responded with the same uncontrolled glance of surprise. Bruce shrugged dismissively. "Uh, either is fine with me."
"So be it. I'll ask Kate, and we'll eat whichever she doesn't choose."
"That'll be sushi then," Sophie advised.
"Kate loves sushi," Bruce replied in confusion.
"Oh, well… it's kind of a story-"
"Save it for lunch," he replied with a mischievous smirk.
The elevator slowed to a stop.
"You two planning on attending Grandma Kane's fourth of July bash?" Bruce asked as the doors opened.
"Oh, uh, yes, sir," Sophie said, recalling a conversation from a week or two earlier. It still felt half a summer away, but that hadn't stopped the nerves from taking root in anticipation.
"Bruce," he corrected, pausing Sophie midstep as she exited. "I won't say it again. And good; Grandma Kane will like you."
"Understood. Thanks, Bruce," she replied while the doors closed between them.
"Hey babe," Kate smirked as Sophie leaned over the back of the couch to press her lips lightly against hers.
"Much better," Sophie grinned back, hovering a whisper over Kate's lips. She loved all sides of Kate, but given the choice, she'd take this lighter version of her girlfriend from a day earlier any day.
"Than?" Kate asked when Sophie pulled away.
"Yesterday. You're in a good mood."
"Didn't notice," Kate waved off, her attention returning to the laptop screen in front of her.
"Oh?" Sophie said, lifting Kate's legs from the couch and sliding under them. "I mean… you haven't set the kitchen on fire, so-" A shade of yellow flashed into her view. "-ooph!"
She instinctively lifted her hands, curling her fingers and wrangling the pillow from Kate's outstretched hand. A quick yank pulled it from her grasp. A moment later Sophie had twisted upright, setting on her knees, straddling Kate's legs with the pillow now hovering threateningly back at Kate.
"Woa, woa, ok, ok, truce?" Kate offered, knowing the glimmer of warning in Sophie's eye.
"Hmm," Sophie replied thoughtfully before dropping the pillow onto Kate's legs.
"But since you're here," Kate mused, slipping the laptop over to the coffee table.
It had started as a joke. The beginning of light banter. That was until her eyes were met with an unobstructed view of Sophie. That was when a familiar hunger took hold.
Sophie Moore was gorgeous. She could wear a tunic of fast food wrappers and still be the most attractive woman Kate had ever laid her eyes on. But that didn't mean what she was wearing now was any less disarming.
On a mannequin Kate wouldn't have batted an eye. But on Sophie Moore? It unravelled her.
A light cream blouse fell perfectly against every soft curve of Sophie's body. What wasn't accentuated through the loose fabric was articulated by the slight translucency of the fabric. The evening lighting coming from the window provided the perfect level to let the edges of Sophie's silhouette glow.
Kate would have drooled except her mouth was dry. Sandpaper dry.
And then there was the skirt. It was fabulously tight against her toned legs. This was exacerbated by the offensive pose she'd taken moments earlier to threaten Kate. The dark grey fabric clung to her thigh, bunching slightly where it clashed with Kate's legs to expose more of Sophie's leg than intended.
Kate felt the warm rush of blood pulsing through her body and pounding in her ears. Her imagination swelled with thoughts that would very quickly get her in trouble. They were thoughts she had boxed away. She was terrible at hiding that box though. Instead, they were showing up more and more frequently, and Kate was forced to pivot sharply at the risk of overstepping.
She needed a pivot.
"Bruce rescheduled," Kate offered.
Good pivot.
"Oh."
Sophie stared back.
"That's great."
Sophie tried to contain the mix of shock and confusion that swept through her. She quickly shifted off Kate and navigated to the kitchen. She used the air from the refrigerator to cool the flush she felt. Her heightened heart-rate would take another minute to calm.
"Yea," Kate replied, returning her attention to the momentarily forgotten laptop.
Sophie should have been happy. If there was one thing weeks together had caused, it was a gradual deterioration in Kate's stubbornness about keeping things in. This was a minor detail but not one she'd have shared a few months ago, and Sophie was grateful for it. She was grateful even if a lingering dissatisfaction nagged at the back of her mind.
In many ways their relationship had picked up exactly where it left off months earlier with a few exceptions. From the moment they'd kissed outside the bar nearly three months earlier, their relationship had shifted slightly. No longer did Sophie sit idly by when she felt Kate close herself off. Instead she voiced her concern and waited for Kate to come around to opening up about it. With time, Kate learned to reciprocate, and out of that came a more open line of communication than Kate had ever expected to experience in any relationship.
It initially surprised Kate how much sharing these small details made her feel happier and more connected to Sophie. For as much as she thought they shared when they'd dated the first time, this level of honesty in their relationship wasn't something that had been there before, and Kate credited that change entirely to Sophie.
This was true of all topics in their relationship. Except for one.
"You wouldn't have had anything to do with that, would you?" Kate asked, and Sophie knew from her tone that she was busted.
"We may have taken an elevator ride together."
"Is that 'Wayne Tech' speak for 'you joined the mile-high club with my cousin'?" Kate asked and broke out into an uncontrolled laughter at the mortified look on Sophie's face staring back from across the kitchen.
Three shades of red later Sophie pivoted: "What do you want for dinner?"
"Oh, don't be like that. It was a joke," Kate pleaded as Sophie set about pulling things from the cabinets.
"I know," Sophie replied, ignoring the puppy dog look coming from her girlfriend.
"But then… wh-what?"
"I'm hungry," Sophie shot over her shoulder, her attention on the refrigerator's stock. "And I don't trust you not to burn down the place."
"Hater."
The next twenty minutes were spent in relative silence as Sophie began preparing a mix of veggies. Chicken seared in the pan behind her. Kate had transitioned to the bar from the couch, but her scowl of concentration remained. After a few fleeting attempts at conversation Sophie finally gave up and let Kate delve into whatever rabbit hole of the internet she'd found.
A few minutes remained on the stir fry when Kate retired back to the bedroom. Sophie barely took notice until she glanced back and saw the seat empty. A familiar chime pulled her attention from dinner, and she glanced around in search of her phone. She eyed the pan on the stove then set out looking for it.
Four scattered cushions, two toppled stacks of books, and literally every surface interrogated for her phone later, she remembered it was in her bag. Her bag which had been left at the front door. She rolled her eyes in self-annoyance before trekking to it, checking the pan for any risk of burning. The last thing she needed was to give Kate any ammunition over crisped edges.
She found it in no time, sighed at the string of notifications she'd missed, and felt a relief that none of them were work related. She mindlessly made her way back toward the kitchen when a small noise distracted her attention from the soft sizzling of dinner on the stove. She glanced to her left and caught sight of Kate in the bedroom, her back facing her and in the middle of changing into her go-to casual evening wear of sweats and a shirt. She was in the midst of sliding her top up, over her head, and the simple act caused Sophie to falter.
She paused. Then she took a step forward only to freeze again. She stepped backward. She felt torn as she continued to watch through the partially closed door. There was nothing new about this. Kate changed clothes all the time. Sophie did too. They were two humans living together. They had seen each other on countless occasions dressing and undressing. Yet that wasn't the innocent way Sophie's mind defined it.
Unaware of Sophie's presence, Kate unclasped her bra, revealing her exposed, toned back, and extents of her freshly inked skin.
Sophie's breath caught in her throat. Her fingers twitched at her side.
She gazed, unbreathing at her girlfriend with an unsquashable desire she'd tried to suppress for the better part of four weeks. It didn't listen to her pleas. Instead it surged to the surface. It was easy enough to sideline her imagination when they were back at school, bogged down with studies, and didn't share a room, but now that they lived in the privacy of a penthouse flat, their days ended at relatively normal hours, and there was practically nothing to distract herself with, her mind couldn't help but wander.
She felt her mouth go dry as Kate turned, providing a silhouette of her breast in the dim light of the bedroom. Sophie suppressed a small whimper, feeling stuck in a familiar internal struggle: she knew the only reason Kate hadn't made a move was out of respect for Sophie's hesitation. All she'd have to do was lower the drawbridge to the fortress of her own resistance and everything she'd spent the last months daydreaming could come true. It was that simple.
Except it wasn't that simple. Fear of Kate's rejection wasn't the problem. It was that she was worried about her own lack of experience. In classic Sophie Moore fashion she had defaulted, hesitantly at first, to trying to study her way into experience. It wasn't that she didn't understand the anatomy, but growing up in a rigid household with thin walls had never provided her the opportunity to… explore that side of things. And then her first experience of living outside of that house had landed her with Kate as a roommate.
She'd spent the better part of that first semester confused and resisting what she had been trained were impure thoughts. The few times she had considered testing the waters had been quickly shut down when her imagination transformed into her very female roommate. After that, she'd been nervous to broach the idea.
Fast forward to last summer. She'd worked herself up to taking the next step. She thought she was ready, but a slew misunderstandings, unintended arguments, and miscues and misfires had quickly shut the door on that possibility.
Then the following semester was made near impossible with the introduction of Riley Thomas as her roommate. That her and Kate were still keeping their relationship hidden didn't exactly provide ample opportunity that fall semester. What came next was a break-up and a spring semester of heartache and regret. It was only now, being back together for nearly three months, that Sophie felt for the first time that what they had been dancing around could finally be broached - if only she could overcome the anxiety of her inexperience.
It was perhaps a silly fear, and Kate had made clear any number of times that she didn't carry any expectations about Sophie's 'performance' in the bedroom. Those reassurances didn't stop the nagging worry that her inexperience might drive Kate away.
"I confirmed with Evan," Kate called out suddenly, mid-change. Sophie jumped, a bolt of shock tearing her back to reality by the casual remark, and she hastened to the kitchen where she could call back without suspicion.
"O-ok, great," she called back, cursing the shakiness in her voice.
"You still ok going?" Kate asked, reacting to the unfamiliar inflection in Sophie's voice.
"What?" Sophie feigned in surprise as Kate joined her in the kitchen, now clad in a Point Rock shirt. She felt to flush with nervousness to recognize the small wave of disappointment she felt. "Of course."
"I just know that last time wasn't the best, so I get if you're hesitant. We can stay in or-or find something else to do."
"And miss out on the big birthday bash at the top of the world?" Sophie asked, feeling her heart-rate return to sea level.
"Gotham. It's just the top of Gotham."
"Not what the invite says," Sophie smirked, pulling it from the fridge and waving it as proof.
"That's because Evan's never left Gotham, and he has little context for anything else," Kate said dryly, snatching at the invitation fluttering in front of her face.
"Isn't he an art dealer?"
"'Art dealer' is generous. He's just a kid with too much inheritance and a knack for story-telling. He mostly operates through online auction houses when his work branches outside the city."
"Wait, so he's really never left Gotham?" Sophie asked, confused that a child of millionaires hadn't flirted with even national travel.
"He went to London once as a kid and was so terrified of the flight that his parents considered booking tickets back on a boat. Instead they used… well, basically tranquilizers to get him back across the pond. After that he's limited himself to ground transportation."
"Really?" Sophie asked in amazement. She'd never flown anywhere before, but she couldn't imagine letting that stop her.
"Is something burning?" Kate asked, her nose scrunched in distaste. Out of the corner of her eye Sophie saw the first wisp of smoke.
"Oh, shit."
Their nights usually followed one of three paths.
The first was some evening adventure curated by Kate to get Sophie out into the city. For as much as fear mongering as she'd invested in making Gotham out to be a nightly fright fest, the exact opposite seemed true. The obvious qualifier was that they rarely navigated to the more questionable boroughs of the city like the East End.
The second way involved one or both of them working well into the night. For Sophie it was reading up on some published paper about her 'top secret' work at Wayne Tech or digging through the writings of Yehuda Amichai. For Kate, well, Sophie wasn't entirely sure what Kate spent her scowls on. She was clearly pouring over something, but she was unusually mum about it. Sophie jokingly asked once if it was porn. This earned a harsh scowl of disapproval. After that she dropped it, waiting for Kate to reveal on her own terms whatever had captured her attention.
And it really was her full attention. After two years of studying together, Sophie noted that there were very few topics that could really arrest Kate's interest. Her ability to get distracted was part and parcel with her identity, but this had her enraptured. This was made only more evident by the quiet mutterings that filled the empty flat on nights she was nose-deep into her computer.
The third way usually came when they'd both arrived home late, too mentally exhausted to continue. On these nights they would eventually find themselves laying together on one of the oversized lounge chairs. They stared out at the city, enjoying the shared silence of each other's company while the sound of the city from below percolated up to them.
Work hadn't been especially grueling, and both returned home with the sun still up. Nevertheless, they'd mutually been drawn to this third path, preferring the silent comfort of a night on the terrace together to anything else.
Sophie was infatuated with the way the car horns and subway cars could create the music of the city. The occasional shout or music added an extra level of complexity. On her third night living in the flat she caught the soft melodies from a flautist off in the distance. A week later she could make out every syllable and curse from an argument floors below. She'd be remiss not to include the sirens from police cars, ambulances, and fire trucks that seemed on call 24-hours a day, but even that layer of noise felt uniquely Gotham.
Tiny twitches from the body next to her confirmed Kate was half an inch from full-blown passing out. It made Sophie smile.
"Hey," she said softly, nudging Kate from the edge of sleep.
"Hm?"
"Bed," Sophie said softly, giving Kate a light squeeze.
"Can't we just stay out here?" Kate mumbled softly, worming her way around Sophie.
"Last time we did that you got eaten by mosquitoes," Sophie replied with practiced patience.
"You'll protect me," Kate explained without evidence.
"Is that right?"
"Mhm," Kate muttered. "You have that force field thing."
"So eloquent. But no, not tonight. I have work tomorrow and you, for some ungodly reason, insist on getting up at five on weekdays."
"It's for training."
"It's insane."
"Says you, the psycho poet studier," Kate sighed grumpily, finally opening her eyes. What she saw was the city skyline twinkling with lights shining back at them. It was as close to a night's sky as they could get in Gotham.
"Not your best work," Sophie smirked.
"Disagree. You're definitely my best work."
"She's a far cry from your usual hookups."
"Sophie's not a hookup," Kate said defensively.
Bruce surveyed Kate, a smirk at the corner of his mouth challenging his stoicism.
"Taking things slow? This might be the most grown up thing you've ever done," Bruce replied coolly.
"What?"
"Or are you worried you'll lose interest after… you know."
"Why do you instigate like that? It's not like you're some saint; you don't exactly have the greatest track record. I've seen the headlines, Mr. Playboy."
"Checking up on me all the way from Point Rock? I'm flattered," Bruce said lamely.
"Don't be. The tabloids don't have much by way of famous people in north New York," Kate shrugged. "It's either you or sightings of some killer crocodile."
"Mmm," Bruce replied, his attention on the menu. "What's this I hear about you not liking sushi anymore?" he easily deflected.
Kate rolled her eyes. "What a brat. It was one time."
"She cares about you. God knows why, but she does," Bruce said dryly, glancing up briefly from the menu to see Kate struggle to contain a smile.
"I know. She is… she's the best."
"Well, then, I suggest you don't mess it up again."
"What makes you think I did the first time?" Kate scowled.
"Because you're a Kane."
"You say that like it's a curse. Not every Kane has struck out, you know."
"How many wives has Uncle Phil had?"
"Wasn't he adopted?"
"Is Grandma Kane still spreading that rumor?" Bruce smirked as the waitress arrived.
"Have we decided?" she asked, very aware of the company she was keeping.
"Uh-" Kate began, realizing she'd been so caught up on Bruce's teasing that she hadn't taken the time to survey the menu.
"Yes," Bruce said easily before rattling off an order that would provide them both with an ample array of options.
"Always prepared," Kate muttered grumpily when the waitress had retreated to fetch their drinks.
"Oh, sorry. Was that not feminist?" Bruce asked knowingly and chuckling at the sharp glare Kate offered in return.
"Maybe don't be such a boy scout when you take Soph out," Kate scowled back.
"You presume Ms. Moore wouldn't come prepared?"
Kate's mouth fell open, unable to formulate a quick retort to Bruce's response.
"So, what are you doing this summer? I haven't seen your name in the papers, so either you've gotten better at dodging the cameras or you're behaving," Bruce continued, using the pause to tangent discussions. His ability to slip into the role of big-brother was uncanny. He spent so much of his life being the calculated CEO of Wayne Enterprise with a lavish partying billionaire playboy and ego to match that it was hard for anyone to imagine a sensitive side to Bruce. But Kate could.
"I haven't had much need to go out," Kate explained. It was enough to quell Bruce's brotherly prodding for the moment.
"And during the day?" Bruce pressed.
"The usual; training and bumming around," Kate replied without detail, nodding in thanks to the waitress who had just returned with their drinks.
"I hear you've been hanging out on the East End."
"Oh? According to who?"
"Are you looking to get knifed?" Bruce scolded.
"I'm never there at night," Kate groaned with an eye-roll to match her exasperation.
"What are you doing over there?"
"You know, if roles were reversed you'd monologue for an hour about how your business is your business and-"
"The difference is the roles aren't reversed. So, I'll ask again: why are you hanging out in one of the most-crime infested boroughs of Gotham?"
Kate fell back into her chair, jaw set with a stubborn gaze.
"I know you already know the answer to that," Kate replied grumpily.
"All permits for the Wayne Foundation cross my desk," Bruce shrugged.
"Yea, that's why I left my name off them," Kate scowled. "But somehow-" she said, waving a hand in the air to explain the magic of the all-knowing Bruce Wayne.
"Renovation, huh? It's quite ambitious. But, the location is a good one, and you've partnered with a decent contractor. That's not easy to do in this town. He worked on two of the other soup kitchens the Martha Foundation opened."
"I'm barely involved," Kate dismissed.
"I think sixty hours a week and a three million dollar investment says otherwise."
"Sixty is a bit high-"
"Fine, fifty-five."
"I'm just curious."
"Right," Bruce smiled. "All trust-fund kids get curious about opening soup kitchens and halfway homes."
"It's practically a right of passage," Kate replied dryly.
"It's quite a noble cause."
"No, a noble cause would be ending poverty."
"Now you're just asking for a miracle," Bruce sighed as the food arrived.