Five days passed, and to everyone's relief there were no further attacks on Jordan. As a result, Bruce had been able to spend quality time with her in between their respective work schedules and his activities as Batman. The evening of the one-week anniversary of their first encounter, they were planning an intimate dinner at an upscale city restaurant, a French Bistro named "Suzette's" that was owned by Bruce.
In the guest house, Jordan had just stepped out of the shower when her cell phone rang, and she crossed the room to retrieve it from her purse.
"Jordan Kent."
"Hello beautiful," Bruce greeted.
"Bruce…I don't mean to be rude, but could you please hold for just a minute? I was in the shower when the phone rang and am dripping all over the floor."
Jordan's innocent revelation caused a vision of her wearing just a towel – or nothing at all – to flash through his mind, and Bruce promptly forgot how to talk.
I feel a sudden urge to take a shower myself, he thought wryly. A very long, very cold one.
"Are you still there, Bruce?" Jordan prompted.
"Yes, I'm sorry. I'll be happy to hold."
He heard a slight thunk when she set down the phone, followed by the sounds of her rustling about in the bathroom, and a couple of minutes later she came back on the line.
"Thanks for holding. Are you on your way?"
"Unfortunately not. My meeting ran a little late so I went directly to the restaurant to secure our reservation. Alfred agreed to chauffer you in my absence, so he'll meet you outside of the guest house and bring you here."
"Okay then; I'll see you shortly."
Disconnecting the call, Jordan quickly finished dressing and grabbing her purse, walked outside to find Alfred waiting next to the passenger door of the town car.
"Good evening, Alfred," she greeted.
"Good evening, Miss Jordan," he echoed. "If I may be so bold as to say so, you look stunning."
Jordan blushed. "Thank you."
The ride to Suzette's took just over twenty minutes and Alfred regaled Jordan with tales of some of his milder adventures with Bruce en route. Bruce was waiting outside when Alfred pulled up in front of the restaurant, and he walked over to open the passenger side door for Jordan. She emerged from the car, extending her un-casted hand so he could help her out, and his breath caught in his throat.
She is extraordinary.
She wore a sleeveless dark blue silk dress that while relatively modest, nonetheless did little to hide the figure beneath it. Her dark blonde hair was free from its usual restriction of a ponytail or braid and fell to the middle of her back. She wore little make-up, and her only jewelry consisted of a pair of diamond earrings that matched her A1 pendant. Bruce allowed himself a moment to absorb her appearance before gracing her with an admiring smile.
"You are breathtaking," he declared huskily.
Jordan turned crimson, the tone of his voice sending a trickle of awareness down her spine. "Thank you," she responded.
Bruce glanced at Alfred. "Thank you for the lady's prompt delivery, Alfred," he said.
"Certainly, sir. Enjoy your evening."
GOTHAM MUNICIPAL PARK
Following their dinner, Jordan and Bruce had left Suzette's and were now strolling hand in hand through a nearby park. The park was deserted and only the breeze rustling the leaves and chirping crickets broke the silence. The evening had been magical, the intimate dinner with Jordan and the warm candor between them serving to strengthen Bruce's deepening feelings for her. He knew without a doubt that he was in love with her, and was silently debating if it was now time to tell her.
She's already skittish enough about being with me, he mused. If I tell her how I feel too soon we'll be over before we ever really get started.
At his side, Jordan's train of thought was traveling down a similar track as Bruce's, as she wondered to herself if they had reached the point of no return.
Maybe it's time to practice what I preach and be completely honest with him, she pondered. I have to share my secrets if I'm going to share my heart.
After a moment, she loosened her hold on his hand and stepped around him to invade Bruce's line of vision.
"Do you remember what I said to you the night we met?" she asked softly.
Bruce took a moment to mentally replay their conversation before answering, "You indicated that honesty was more appealing than innuendo."
"I did, and it is; which is why I need to be honest with you. There's something else you need to know about my past."
"Would it have anything to with your former 'side job' as an agent for Interpol's Environmental Crimes Division?" Bruce asked evenly.
Jordan's eyes widened in surprise. "You have been doing your homework," she remarked after a beat. "There are less than a dozen people who know about that. I've never even told Clark."
"I told you shortly after we met that information is a powerful tool, Jordan. I can't do what I do without being two steps ahead of everybody around me."
"Fair enough, but I know that you didn't turn up that particular tidbit during a routine background check."
"Lucius uncovered 'that particular tidbit' when I asked him to investigate the attempts on your life," Bruce clarified, and revealed the rest of what he had learned. "He went through some of our higher-ranking connections and he discovered the information about your previous position with Interpol."
"Remind me to talk to him about those connections if I ever I get audited by the IRS," Jordan responded wryly. "I'm glad that you know. I've realized I was being a hypocrite by demanding honesty from you when I was carrying this secret. Granted I took an oath of confidentiality when I accepted the position, but it's certainly not something I could have kept to myself and expected our relationship to survive."
"Secrets have a way of revealing themselves at the least opportune time," Bruce allowed. "How did you get involved with Interpol?"
"Shortly after I received my doctorate, I was in Brazil studying jaguars and caimans in the Pantanal," Jordan said. "My research group was doing some night work trying to radio collar one of the cats when we stumbled across a group of poachers. Along with the jaguar hides, they were selling young girls from one of the local villages as sex slaves."
She sat down on a nearby bench, her face twisted into a grimace as she recalled the prisoners.
"Naturally the poachers weren't happy about being discovered and we were attacked. We had two handguns between the half dozen researchers versus ten poachers with semi-automatic rifles and machetes. It was no contest."
"Yet here you are, although that does explain the bullet scars on your shoulder."
Jordan smiled. "You're very observant," she remarked idly.
"I enjoy the view," Bruce responded pointedly.
Jordan shook her head before continuing. "I was shot twice in the left shoulder, one of which missed my heart by only an inch." She paused then, unconsciously rubbing her shoulder in memory of the injury. "I pretended to be dead until they moved on and then I somehow dragged myself back to camp. I called the PEACE office in Rio de Janeiro on the satellite phone and the cavalry arrived in about four hours. The poachers were caught the next morning, and because of the 'exceptional way in which I handled a highly volatile situation' and my unique ability to be where the crimes were being committed because of my job, I was offered the position with Interpol's Wildlife Working Group."
"Not exactly what you had in mind when you wanted to find a way to make a career from your love of animals," Bruce remarked.
"In any event, it's a moot point now. In order to focus all of my time and energy on animals, I resigned from Interpol three months ago after helping to dismantle an illegal smuggling operation in Africa."
"What can you tell me about the smuggling ring?"
Jordan sighed. "I aided in the arrest of a group of poachers in Kenya that were smuggling weapons to Sudan in animal hides and giving them to the guerillas in Darfur. While I was investigating the source of the funding for the operation, I discovered that someone inside PEACE has been filtering funds from the company's account and transferring them to outside accounts belonging to various terrorist groups, including Animal Avengers."
"If they know that you know about the money laundering, it certainly gives them an additional motive for killing you. Any thoughts on who at PEACE is involved?"
"There are only half a dozen people with the security clearance necessary to access the accounts, including me. I've been waiting until I have more evidence to implicate one of them before I take what I know to my connections at Interpol."
"If you give me the other names, I'll start looking into it immediately."
"I'm not so sure that's a good idea."
"If you're worried about me, Princess, don't be. I assure you that I can find out what we need to know without jeopardizing myself."
"Granted, but I don't want to risk more incidents like those at the zoo and the Convention Center."
"Let me deal with that. As long as I know you're safe, I will be much more efficient at keeping an eye on everyone else."
Before Jordan could respond, there was a loud crack of thunder accompanied by a flash of lightning, and a moment later it began to rain.
"Great," Bruce muttered. "Come on; we'd better make a run for it."
"I'm not running anywhere in three-inch heels, Cowboy," Jordan countered. "Besides it's only water; I don't melt."
He smiled. "Maybe I should remedy that."
Closing the distance between them, Bruce pulled Jordan into his arms and captured her mouth in a blazing kiss. Although the memory of their kiss in Smallville had lingered in Bruce's brain for most of the week, it paled in comparison to Jordan's unexpected reaction to tonight's. This kiss seemed to have shattered whatever vestiges of control she had been exercising during that first one and he felt a visceral tremor ripple through her as she molded her body to his while he deepened the kiss. The feel of his erection against her elicited a muffled groan from Jordan, and Bruce shifted his hands to her lower back and pulled her even closer as he fought the urge to make love to her right there.
After several minutes, however, the increased downpour and a belated remembrance of their location penetrated Bruce's passion fogged brain, and he forced himself to pull away. Expecting Jordan to immediately withdraw from his embrace, he was secretly delighted when she stayed in his arms, her forehead pressed to his chest as they attempted to get their breathing under control. After a moment, Bruce was the first to speak.
"As much as I'm enjoying this, Princess, we'll drown if we stay out here much longer," he said.
Still reeling from the intensity of their kiss, the beautiful blonde merely nodded in silent consent, and they headed out of the park. Reaching his car, Bruce assisted Jordan into the passenger seat and walked around to slide into the driver's seat just as his cell phone rang. Giving Jordan an apologetic smile, he glanced at the caller ID before answering.
"Checking up on me, Alfred?" he teased.
"I'm afraid there has been a slight change regarding your plans for the evening, Master Bruce," Alfred replied. "The shipment you have been tracking will be arriving in the harbor at approximately 10:00 p.m."
Bruce stifled a frustrated sigh. The shipment Alfred referred to was a half dozen crates of illegal weapons intended for distribution among the lower end of Gotham's population. Through various sources Bruce had learned of its impending arrival and asked Alfred to track it, so that Batman could intercept it upon arrival.
I suppose it would have been too much to ask that I be able to tell the woman that I love how I feel before resuming my night life, he thought to himself. To Alfred he said, "I need to take Jordan back to the guest house and then I'll meet you in the Southeast wing."
"Very good, sir."
Ending the call, he glanced back at Jordan. "Duty calls," he said ruefully.
"So I gathered," Jordan responded easily. "It's probably for the best; I'm not exactly wearing rain gear."
"I'm sure you would be just as stunning in a slicker and rubber boots," Bruce responded. "I'd better get you home."
GOTHAM HARBOR
After depositing Jordan at the guest house and indulging in another, more subdued kiss, Bruce returned home to change into Batman. After getting the specs on the shipment from Alfred, he slid into the Batmobile and headed out into the night. Careful to take back roads and alleys to avoid being seen, he arrived at the harbor shortly before 10:00 PM, by which time the rain had stopped. Batman input a brief command into the onboard computer to put the car in Stealth mode and made his way toward the motel at the edge of the harbor.
As luck would have it, the only other room in use was occupied by a couple too involved in their extra-curricular activities to notice the large shadowy figure lurking outside. The smugglers were in the last room of the row, seated around a small table in the center of the room as they sorted through boxes of various weapons.
Looks like they came to play, Batman observed silently.
"I still say this is a waste of time," one smuggler replied, a young man no more than 25 with nondescript features and black hair. "If Alpha Team had taken out the target we wouldn't have to be here."
"I get paid to follow orders, not question them," responded the second smuggler, a man of about 40 who appeared to be of Latin descent. "Since we want to actually get paid for this gig we're going to proceed as scheduled. We won't see any cash until we bring the body to Ross."
"Seems like an awful lot of trouble to eliminate one woman," the younger man muttered. "What did this bitch do to piss off Ross so badly anyway?"
"I don't care if she questioned his manhood or ran over his grandmother's dog. It's worth half a million bucks for him to see her dead."
Sounds like these guys are working for the people who are after Jordan, Batman deduced.
Surveying the set-up of the motel, Batman considered his entry options for a moment before deciding the simplest thing to do would be to get the smugglers to let him in. Climbing up to the roof, he reached into his belt and pulled out a batarang, which he flung at such an angle that its return trajectory sent it crashing through the window. Inside the room he could hear the exclamations of surprise from the men and a moment later they burst outside, each brandishing a large gun. Shifting position, Batman wordlessly dropped from the roof onto the Latino smuggler, knocking him to the ground and dislodging the gun out of his grasp. He then immediately spun around and sent a mini-batarang flying toward the younger man to knock his gun from his hand.
"Oh, shit!" he exclaimed. "Batman!"
He started to turn on his heel and run back into the room, but Batman unclipped a small device from his belt and sent a metal rope hurling toward the younger man to wrap itself around him. Beneath him, the Latino man wasn't giving up without a fight and he took advantage of Batman's distraction to suddenly buck like a horse and temporarily dislodge him from his back. Jumping to his feet, he braced himself into a defensive position and motioned for Batman to take the first shot.
"You don't want to play this game friend," Batman said evenly. "Not with me."
The smuggler promptly responded with a profanity in his native tongue and attempted to strike his opponent with a kick to the head. Batman grabbed the man's leg when it was an inch from his face and held the man still as he lashed out with his other arm to strike him in the face. The man let out another curse as his now broken nose began to stream blood down his face and Batman released his leg. Undaunted, the man lifted his arm and wiped away some of the blood before suddenly rushing forward to throw a punch. Again, Batman blocked the blow when it was an inch or so from making contact and head butted him against his injured nose as he used one leg to knock the man's legs out from under him.
"Game's over," Batman declared. "You lose."
After tying the Latino man up with the same metal rope encasing his partner, Batman dragged them into the room and propped them against the bed. Gathering the weapons, he placed them in a pile next to the door. Satisfied that the weapons and the prisoners were secure, Batman left the room and locked the men inside before returning to the Batmobile. Pressing a pair of buttons on the dash, the speaker phone rang through to Jim Gordon's office.
"Gordon."
"Good evening, Commissioner."
"Batman...what can I do for you?"
"I've left a gift for you at the Happy Days Motel by the wharf. Room 12."
"All right; I'm on it. Thanks."
"My pleasure."
Disconnecting the call, Batman remained where he was until Gordon and some uniformed officers arrived. He watched as the men and all the weapons were taken into custody, and waited until the police were gone before staring the car and heading for home.
Bruce returned home just as a crack of thunder signaled the arrival of another storm. Wandering into the living room, he found the last remnants of a fire crackling in the fireplace, but otherwise the house was completely quiet. After a brief shower, he donned a robe and returned to the living room. Crossing over to the fireplace, Bruce stoked the fire before downing a shot of brandy and settling on the couch. As he gazed into the flames, his thoughts drifted to earlier in the evening, specifically Jordan's welcome reaction to their kiss.
Sooner or later, we're going to finish what we started, Princess, he mused silently.
"You look like a man thinking deep thoughts," a familiar voice offered from the darkness.
Bruce looked up to discover Jordan standing a couple of feet away, dressed in an oversized Princeton Alumni sweatshirt and jeans. "Jordan…what are you doing here?"
Jordan gave him a small smile. "Between the storm and its accompanying sound effects, I couldn't sleep," she replied. "I got up to make myself some hot chocolate, but when I saw that the rain had stopped, I took the liberty of walking over here. I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all."
"I assume everything at the harbor was taken care of without incident?" she inquired.
"More or less," Bruce allowed. "The 'gentlemen' from the ship weren't too happy about being relieved of their merchandise, but thankfully I managed to avoid injury and Gotham City is again in Batman's debt."
Jordan nodded. "If you're not too tired, I would like to finish the conversation we started before we got sidetracked about my 'side job' and were caught in the rain," she requested.
"Of course."
Bruce wordlessly extended his hand, and she took it in hers, but made no effort to get closer to him.
"I won't bite, Princess," he said lightly.
Her smile widened ever so slightly, but she remained rooted in place, so Bruce gently pulled her down next to him. "I can't help you if you don't tell me what's bothering you, Jordan. Please, talk to me."
"I don't know where to start," she whispered, shifting her attention to their entwined hands.
"The beginning always works for me," Bruce suggested.
Jordan released a delicate sigh and forced herself to meet his gaze. "Because of who Clark is, he's had to allow himself to be a target," she said. "Whether it was the bullies at school, or people who were afraid of Superman; there was always someone who wanted to hurt him. That's why I made it my mission to fight the battles he couldn't. I had to be strong enough to protect both of us."
"I take it some of those bullies you mentioned were on the receiving end of your lethal temper?"
"Much to my parents' chagrin, you're not the first person who's had my fist planted in their face for messing with Clark," Jordan allowed. "While I was en route to my mother's house the day she moved back home, I was rehearsing what I was going to say to you. I was so angry and ready to go head-to-head with the man who tried to kill my brother."
"I can't apologize enough for what happened in Metropolis, Jordan…" Bruce began, but she cut him off.
"That's not what this is about," Jordan assured him quickly. "I know how much you regret it and I accepted your apology the day we met."
She paused then to gather her thoughts, and Bruce watched the play of emotions flicker across her elegant features as he wondered where this conversation was going. After a moment, Jordan continued.
"But once the anger went away, something unexpected happened. I discovered that a man I was convinced was my enemy wasn't such an adversary after all. Instead of thinking with my brain, I started listening with my heart. Then you kissed me later that night, and it scared me to death. I barely knew you, yet in the space of a few hours you managed to put cracks in the walls I've built around myself."
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Bruce asked.
"A little of both," Jordan answered honestly.
He gave her a warm smile. "If it's any consolation, I was just as scared as you were," Bruce confessed. "Given who I am publicly and privately, I made a choice a long time ago not to allow anyone to get too close. But the moment we made eye contact, all those boundaries I had set went out the window. I knew that what we were feeling was something unique."
Jordan smiled back. "I don't know if this makes us hopeless romantics or just hopeless," she said wryly.
Bruce's smile widened. "I think it makes us Human," he offered softly.
"Spending this past week with you has been wonderful, and it's forced me to accept that what we're building together is stronger than my fear."
"Fear of what?"
"Fear of loving someone so completely; fear of the knowledge that sharing your life would mean accepting the dangers it includes; fear of waking up one day and discovering that I would have to live the rest of my life without you."
"Anyone who shares their life with a partner in a high-risk profession deals with the same fears, Jordan. Is what I do as Batman so different than being involved with a police officer?"
"Police officers don't deliberately seek out dangerous situations, Bruce; you do. Every time you leave this house as Batman, it is because there is someone or something that poses a mortal threat to the people of Gotham City. That ups the ante considerably for whether or not you come back alive."
Knowing Jordan was right, Bruce refrained from countering her argument, and instead remained silent for a moment before speaking.
"So where does that leave us?" he prompted.
"If we're going to make this work - make us work - I have to be able to live with the consequences of what you do. I'm still working on it, but when I'm with you, I know I've found a part of myself I never knew was missing. I can't ignore that anymore."
Bruce's eyes bored into hers and his breath caught in his throat. "What are you saying?"
"I'm in love with you."
"Jordan…"
With a groan that was half-despair, half-desire, Bruce pulled Jordan into his lap and lowered his head to kiss her. After several minutes, however, he forced himself to pull back, then lifted his hands to gently cup her face, lightly rubbing his thumbs across her cheeks.
"I love you, too," he declared, his voice thick with passion. "But I promised you the night we met that nothing else would happen unless you wanted it to. So be absolutely certain this is what you want."
"I've never been surer of anything in my life," Jordan responded softly.
Lowering his head, Bruce covered her mouth with his in a kiss that she felt all the way to her toes, and she wound her arms around his neck as he pulled her to him.
After a second soul shattering lovemaking session in front of the fire, the couple had managed to make it to the bedroom, where they spent the rest of the night sleeping peacefully in each other's arms. Outside the rain was once again pouring down, beating on the roof and sides of the house in rhythm with the blowing wind. Jordan had turned toward him in her sleep, and lay with her head nestled into his neck, her legs entwined with his. A particularly loud clap of thunder sounded then, causing her to flinch in her sleep, and Bruce pressed a gentle kiss against her temple. Despite all of his years of torrid, frivolous affairs, nothing compared to the ecstasy he and Jordan had shared the previous night.
Amazing that something as simple as waking up beside her can bring me such joy, he thought contentedly.
Careful not to disturb Jordan, Bruce extricated himself from her embrace and made his way downstairs for a work out and shower before returning to his bedroom. Jordan was still nestled in a cocoon of bedcovers, and he allowed himself a few moments to indulge in the simple pleasure of watching her sleep. As if sensing his presence, Jordan began to stir, and after a moment before she opened her eyes and found him watching her.
"Good morning," she greeted, her voice husky with the last vestiges of sleep.
"Good morning," Bruce echoed, and leaned over to give her a warm kiss before withdrawing his hand from behind his back to hand her a single, perfect red rose. "Thank you for last night."
"Thank you. It was...extraordinary."
"Yes, it was."
"What time are we due at Gotham P.D. to meet with Commissioner Gordon?" Jordan prompted.
"Not until noon."
Jordan nodded. "In that case, I'll get dressed and join you downstairs in a few minutes for breakfast," she said.
"I'll see you in a few minutes."
Bruce left her to get dressed and headed downstairs, retrieving the newspaper before walking to the dining room. Alfred was already there when he arrived, and as Bruce settled himself at the table, the older man poured him a cup of fresh coffee.
"Good morning, Master Bruce," he greeted.
"Good morning," Bruce responded in kind. "Better bring out another place setting, Alfred. I have a guest joining us for breakfast."
"I see," Alfred responded carefully. "That would be the reason for your late night then?"
"Um-hm," Bruce answered noncommittally.
Alfred wordlessly retrieved another place setting from within the kitchen, and behind the paper Bruce hid a smile at the obvious disapproval in his friend's posture.
He thinks I've brought home a one-night stand, he mused. This is going to be good.
"Do you know if your…guest…would care for a cup of coffee?" Alfred inquired.
"Actually, Alfred, the lady prefers tea."
"Of course."
Alfred disappeared into the kitchen just as Jordan entered the dining room and settled next to Bruce.
"Where's Alfred?" she asked.
"He's getting some tea for my 'guest'," Bruce told her.
Jordan shot him a knowing look. "Please tell me you've haven't made him think you brought some floozy home," she said.
Bruce chuckled. "You have a doctorate from Princeton and the best you can do is 'floozy'?" he prompted.
"Just drink your coffee."
Alfred returned then, exiting the kitchen backward as he carried a tray with the hot water and tea accessories.
"I hope Earl Grey will be acceptable for your guest," he said, unable to hide a thin layer of disgust as he said the last word.
"Earl Grey is fine, thank you," Jordan assured him.
Alfred's head jerked up at the sound of her voice. "Miss Jordan…"
"Good Morning, Alfred," she greeted with a warm smile.
Alfred glanced at Bruce. "Perhaps your lovely companion can assist you in finding another target for your twisted sense of humor," he suggested pointedly.
"You have to admit I had you going there for a few minutes, Alfred."
Alfred ignored him and returned his attention to Jordan. "It is a true delight to have you with us, Miss Jordan," he declared as her poured her tea.
"Thank you."
"Would you care for some breakfast?"
"Yes, please. Just some fruit and a couple slices of wheat toast will be fine."
"Certainly. Master Bruce?"
"I'll have my usual, Alfred."
"Very good, sir," Alfred responded and headed back into the kitchen, muttering to himself as he did so. "A guest for breakfast indeed…"
Jordan and Bruce exchanged an amused glance.