Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the plot. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it.

Art Is Not What You See

"Art is not what you see, but what you make others see." Edgar Degas

Adrenaline and the high of a successful breaking into something fizzled through Blake as he walked down the museum steps, his chemistry with the mysterious and very dangerous Bane just one more explosive element in the brew sparking his nerve endings and making his fingers actual tingle with the desire to go and steal something. Which given that a museum was right behind him wouldn't be hard, Blake silently acknowledged with a smirk. Not to mention all the tourists milling around, ripe for the picking with their wallets sticking out of back pockets and loose grip on their swinging purses. God, he could make so much money and it wouldn't even take-

Once a thief, always a thief, Blake thought as his fingers curled into a fist, reminding himself with the quick dig of his nails into his palms that his thieving days were long, long over. He'd closed that chapter of his life decades ago, and while Blake was self-aware enough to realize that a dangling purse or a piss poor security system would always catch his attention, flip a switch that circumstances had put in him, so to speak, but he was a cop now, and that was-

His cellphone signaling a text had Blake pulling out his phone, smiling when he saw that the message in question was from his twin. And knowing what to expect as he accessed Arthur's message, Blake wasn't surprised to see that it was a short message asking if everything was all right.

The strength of a twin's bond varied from pair to pair, or so the experts said, but his to his brother had always been unusual strong from what he'd gleaned from other pairs. Theirs was so strong that they often knew, in some indescribable way, when something was up with the other. When emotions were high and the other might be needed. Even when Arthur was all but on the other side of the planet at the moment.

Fingers moving across the keys Blake typed out a quick explanation of what had happened, sending it after reviewing it for typos since Arthur was guaranteed to comment otherwise. His younger brother couldn't help himself.

Message sent, and stomach grumbling a reminder that he hadn't had lunch yet, Blake turned his head and smiled in the direction of the hotdog vendor that was, as always, at his spot on the nearby corner. It wasn't the slice of Firango's pizza he'd intended to pick up, but it would do in a pinch.

Walking over and getting in line Blake occupied himself trading messages back and forth as Arthur asked for more detail about what had happened, followed by a rant about the stupidity of the museum for keeping the system in the first place. The amount of money the three people that had been trapped in the thing could be expected to get when the y sued the museum's asses off… There certainly wouldn't be money for any new exhibits for a while, which disappointed them both since they were both frequent visitors to all the good museums in the city.

And though they'd only just met Blake felt a shiver of awareness then that preceded the voice he recognized immediately.

"You aren't seriously intending to eat something from that cart, are you?"

"I am. And don't tell me what's in hotdogs either. I don't want to know." Looking up from his phone Blake flashed Bane a smile. "Shouldn't you be back in there giving your statement?"

"I will give one when it's convenient for me to do so. Your friend has my lawyer's number."

Ohhh, Scott had to be seriously pissed right about now. He was sorry he'd missed it.

His phone signaling another message, Blake excused himself to check it, grinning widely when he saw that his brother intended to contact the museum to offer his services after this, which probably wouldn't happen since said museum wouldn't be able to afford Arthur at the moment. But it would be a nice dig since the director of the museum had never liked them, even as teenagers. Proving that the man might be a complete idiot when it came to some of the choices he'd made in the past, but had excellent instincts when it came to recognizing foxes one didn't want in his hen house.

"Your lover?"

Raising an eyebrow even as he sent a simple smiley face before looking up to meet Bane's gaze, Blake smirked at him. "My better half, actually." A pause for that to sink in. "My twin brother."

"I see. Fraternal or identical?"

"Identical. At least in theory. We have very different styles, so only someone who didn't know we had a twin would mistake us."

At the sound of a cleared throat to get his attention Blake looked over with an apologetic look in Henry's direction. "Sorry, Henry. I'll have the usual and…care for something, Mr. Bane? My treat."

The look the man gave him was unimpressed as he asked for a bottle of water.

Laughing, of course the man would pick the one 'healthy' item Henry sold, Blake smiled at him and then told Henry to put that on the order as well, pulling out his wallet to pay and leave the man a healthy tip on top of that.

Since he did indeed know what Blake ordered the vendor had it already ready for him, Blake thanking him as the hotdog and can of coke were handed over. Setting the can down for a moment to take the water, Blake turned and passed it over to Bane before going to work loading up his hotdog with his standard toppings and condiments.

"Are out trying to put yourself into an early grave?"

"On the contrary, Mr. Bane, haven't you heard? Only the good die young."

Hotdog ready for consumption after one last squirt of ketchup, Blake jerked his chin in the direction he wanted Bane to go, and then followed after him once he'd opened his pop and collected everything, including extra napkins. Together they headed over to the convenient low stone wall that encircled this part of the museum and was perfect for sitting on even if Blake did have to stretch a little to make it.

Perching on it with his coke at his side, Blake had to admit that he was surprised when Bane took a seat beside him, choosing to sit closer to him than he had to. Not that he really minded as he took his first bite of his lunch, humming in pleasure just because.

At his side Bane made a sound of disgust as he unscrewed the lid of his water to take a sip.

"How is it a homicide cop knows so much about security systems and how to break into them?"

"I'm a man of many talents. My brother runs his own business that specializes in museum and private collectors' security and retrieval."

"Retrieval?"

"If someone steals something from your private collection I recommend hiring him to find out who took it. Provided of course that what's gone missing actually belongs to you."

Like him Arthur had gone straight, but his brother still had his lock picks in the game, so to speak, in that his twin was occasionally hired to retrieve things where the statute of limitations had passed, and getting them back to their original owners required some breaking and entering. The man they called Father didn't like it, what cop would, but he also understood that it was something Arthur needed to do to make amends for what the two of them had once done to survive.

Blake had tried to compare it to 'Dexter', but that hadn't gone over well with either their father or Arthur. Which, given how that show had gone downhill halfway through, was understandable. Especially since Arthur dressed so much better. Though it was probably comparing breaking and entering to killing people they hadn't liked.

"And if I were to say that you shouldn't believe all that you've heard of me?"

To buy him a minute to think of how to respond to that, Blake smiled knowingly as he chewed and then swallowed a bite of his lunch.

"I don't believe everything I've heard. But I looked into you when you decided to make Gotham your home, Bane. And I have contacts all over the world." Well technically a lot of them were Arthur's contacts, but his brother had done a lot of the researching about Bane for him.

"And what did these contacts tell you about me?"

"That you are a very, very, bad man."

"Yet you sit beside me."

Toasting Bane with his coke, Blake winked at the other man for good measure. And was about to point out that maybe Bane should be the one who was worried, sitting so close to a cop, when his phone went off again.

Pulling it out Blake read the readout. "It's Dispatch."

Accepting the call Blake identified himself.

"Dispatch, Lieutenant Blake. Your presence is required at Thirteen West Third. Officers standing by, possible homicide."

"Acknowledged and on my way. ETA fifteen to twenty minutes."

"Understood."

Saying goodbye, Blake ended the call and shoved the phone back in his pocket. He was sad to go, but duty called, as the saying went. And it was probably for the best since God only knew what trouble he could get into, bantering with the sexy man watching him so intently.

"Sorry, but I'm going to have to eat and run. Goodbye again, Mr. Bane."

"Just Bane. And I'd like to continue this conversation over dinner tonight. With proper food."

Laughing at the dig, Blake shook his head as he hopped off his seat, draining the coke quickly in a couple quick gulps before tossing it into the recycling receptacle he'd deliberately sat close to before turning back to Bane with what was left of his hotdog still in his hand.

"Thanks. But not a good idea."

"Why not?" Bane asked, no longer sitting but standing before him and moving closer by the second. "I thought you weren't afraid of me?"

"Really not. But I have a bad feeling you'd be addicting, and I have enough vices already."

But because he was stupid, and just didn't know when to leave well enough alone, Blake gave into temptation and shifted up onto tippy toes as he leaned forward so that their cheeks were almost touching as he purred at the other man's ear.

"But when you imagine us having sex tonight, and you will, keep in mind that I'm ten times better in bed than you're imagining I am."

Leaning back Blake smiled, and then walked off with a hint of a saunter since he not only knew he had a great ass, but this was so the first episode of 'Castle', which was a thought that amused the hell out of him.

Even as a voice in the back of his head pointed out that that comparison did not bode well for him in the future.

)

As soon as he was behind the wheel of his car Bane turned it on and then put in a call to Barsad, impatiently tapping on the steering wheel until his second finally picked up. And he wasted no time with pleasantries as soon as the other man's voice came over the line. Getting straight to the point he asked Barsad what he'd learned about Blake as he pulled out of his parking spot.

"First off, if you checked your messages, you'd know I need to know if you mean Lieutenant Shin Blake or his son, Lieutenant Robin Blake. Both are Homicide."

"The latter."

"Alright then. I've only just started, but I have the basics. Such as they are. Apparently born February 11th, 1984, though the birth certificate is fake. He has an identical twin, Arthur. Father already identified, the mother's name is an alias, and her birth name is unknown."

Eyebrows raised, he hadn't expected this, Bane asked what was known about the mother.

"Not a hell of a lot. Or not that her sons were or are telling. From what I've dug up they just showed up on their father's doorstep when they were twelve, both recovering from life threatening bullet wounds and with a note from their mother stating that he was their father and she needed him to look after them from now on. She set up bank accounts for both boys, and another for the father with child support payments, but the FBI weren't able to track it back to the source. The name on the birth certificate was fake, as I said, and the boys stated that it was the only name they knew her by."

"She never came back for them?"

"Not that I've found so far. But there's a lot to sift through. The lack of a paper trail before they came to Gotham…it's intriguing. Especially when you consider that the FBI looked into it due to who Shin Blake's adoptive father is. Takahiro Kawada Blake."

It took a moment, but Bane recognized the name.

When he'd begun the process of moving to Gotham one of his business associates, both legal and not, had approached him to wish him well while making it clear that there was a family in his new city that was under Saito's protection. Anything happened to any member of that family because of Bane, and he would make himself a very powerful enemy.

He'd been intrigued enough to look at the patriarch of that family, and had subsequently hired the man's business to provide his business headquarters and home with flower arrangements. Takahiro Blake was of Japanese descent, a boyhood friend of Hikaru Saito, who had moved to Gotham in his early twenties. Within a year of arriving he'd become involved with a man nineteen years his senior, and had used his significant trust fund money to make the man's florist business a national successful chain.

"He was of interest to them because of his connection to Saito and his mother's yakuza ties, yes?"

"Exactly. He's clean as far as they can tell, not that that means anything. Same with the three children he and his late husband adopted, Shin being their youngest. He's divorced by the way, and like his sons lives in a renovated loft owned by his father."

"Keep looking into that. What else have you learned about him specifically?"

"He holds bachelor degrees in criminology and art history, with a minor in languages. Graduated top of his class from the police academy, and moved up the ranks of GCP quickly with an impressive record. He writes and speaks English, French, Russian, Japanese, and Mandarin fluently, with a working knowledge of Cantonese and German. He also has training in martial arts and gymnastics, but his skill levels and exact training aren't known, as apparently he was trained in house by family members and friends."

"Impressive for someone so young."

"Yeah. I'll look into the possibility that Robin and Arthur are sleeper agents for a foreign countr. The claim their country of origin is America, but…."

Following his second's thought process Bane could see why Barsad thought there was reason to be concerned. Someone who could speak even three languages was considered impressive, five…cause to question. Particularly when their first twelve years were a blank. A little over a decade was plenty of time to indoctrinate a child for many purposes.

It would not be the first time either, that a government sent an agent or spy in his direction, thinking they'd learn more from sliding one of their own into his bed as opposed to one of his businesses. All had failed, of course…and he did not think that his intriguing little bird was giving him chase to make him want him more.

He thought Robin Blake was a man who liked to play with fire.

Bane was not about to be played with while getting nothing in return.

)

Blake was almost back to his cop shop when his phone went off yet again, making him glad that he was caught in traffic since as a cop he knew better than to be on his phone while driving. That's how accidents happened, and he'd been on the scene of plenty while still in uniform. And those were the sorts of visuals that stuck with you, Blake thought as he put his phone on speaker so that he would have his hands free when traffic eased up and he could move.

"Commissioner." Most cops would freak a little at the idea of getting an unexpected call from their commissioner, but Blake had known Jim Gordon for a little over two decades, and the man was a close friend of his father's.

"Blake. Anything you want to tell me?"

Intrigued, Blake wondered what was up even as he shot back an amusing bit of trivia while he tried to think of what he might have done. "Did you know that it's believed that we shake with our right hands because most people are right handed, and therefore it signals to the other person that we're unarmed?"

"I didn't know that. Nor do I know why I just got a call informing me that Bane is refusing to give his statement about what he saw at the museum to anyone but you. And expects you at his place of residence tonight at seven for dinner to get said statement."

"Oh he is GOOD." He hadn't seen that coming, and now was a little irked that he hadn't. It was so totally what he would have done in the other man's shoes.

"Robin."

"He asked me out to dinner, but I declined." Blake explained. "This is his way of getting around that."

"Not if I put my foot down and make him come in."

"You could, but you don't need to. It's just dinner." And besides, if he didn't go he couldn't get one up on Bane after the man had so effortless manipulated him into accepting his invitation. He couldn't let that stand. No way.

"You'll be careful."

"Of course. This is me we're talking about."

"Exactly."