A/N: Ah, yes, I want to thank you Casity, for the advice that you said in your review of my other story, "If You Give a Boy a Camera!" I really appreciate it! I'm taking it and am going to continue writing other stories but, none that involves oodles of chapters like this one! You know, like little short tales! Thanks again!! Anywayz, what else…crackers are really yummy…! Now go read the story!
No Escape:
A Joyous Reunion:
Bruce idly drummed his fingers against the armrest as he peered through the tinted glass. Turning his head, he rolled up his sleeve and glanced at his watch. 5:30…how much longer would this take?
To clear up some confusion, the millionaire's Rolls Royce rested in traffic sandwiched between a gray cattilac and a Dunkin Donuts Van. Unfortunately, that's how Bruce Wayne had spent the first hour of his freedom on that special Friday night and it seemed, to him, his automobile was no further along then when it first started out.
Without warning, Bruce's leg began to impatiently bounce as he scanned the outside world. "Great…I just love rush hour…" He grumbled and slid a hand through his raven hair.
Alfred, who had refrained from conversing throughout the ordeal, suddenly spoke up, "Sir, you had best put all that energy to better use than grumbling. Try having more patience," He examined his surrogate son through the rearview mirror, "Your engagement with Ms. Sheif is not until 7 and it currently is 5:33. You will have plenty of time, after we pass this mess, to change and arrive at the restaurant. That is, unless you decide on becoming fickle with what you wear…" The Butler once again shifted his gaze frontwards as the line of assorted automobiles slowly began to roll forward.
The Dark Knight's alter-ego turned quite a nice shade of red in response to Alfred's remark. Of course he realized that time would be of no hassle to complete the necessary tasks, arriving at his rendezvous with time to spare. But, he yearned to be out of this sluggish situation and in the restaurant now.
He resumed his current hobby of peeking out the window, glimpsing into the Catty beside him. Two children, both in the back seat, were playfully wrestling with one another. The smaller child was clung to the larger child's leg as he swung it around. Soon, the small child let go and held his head in his hands as if to steady the world around him. The mother, either choosing to ignore or being that oblivious, intently stared forward and bobbed her head to the unheard music in the car. Resuming their battle, the larger child dropkicked the younger as the car bounced in return to the sudden display of force. Intently watching, Bruce smirked and stated, "You know what Alfred…you're right. I'll try to have more patience…"
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Upon entering home, Bruce and Alfred were unexpectedly greeted by two entities instead of the usual one. Dick Grayson was seated on the edge of the large, living room couch, head resting in hands, gazing into that attention-absorbing box. Beside Dick sat the usual, Tim Drake, curled up in a ball, back leaning against the armrest. Obviously uninterested in what was showing, he had the daily newspaper in one hand and a pencil in the other. He would occasionally scribble something and snicker at what the graphite on the paper produced.
"Good evening Sirs. Master Dick, what an unexpected surprise." Was Alfred's joyful greeting as he removed Bruce's coat.
"Tim, Dick." The Breadwinner nodded as he proceeded up the grand staircase.
Tim looked up from his newspaper, "Oh, hi Alfred! Heya Bruce! Hot date tonight?"
"Yes, something like that." Bruce slinked into the upper hallway, avoiding a detailed explanation of his "hot date."
"Oh, hey Bruce…Alfred…yeah…I decided…to just come…" Dick absently greeted and waved a hand, eyes never leaving the television.
"Meaning Barbara turned him down for a date." Tim smirked.
"At least I can get a date small fry…"
"Then why aren't you on one now?"
Dick's features scrunched into a glare, eyes still not leaving the panel.
"I wonder what could be holding Master Grayson's interest…" The Butler hung up the given coat and stepped behind the couch.
"It's some stupid documentary on The WMBA."
"Ah…" The aged Butler nodded.
"If you call this stupid then what do you call that garbage you watch?" Dick mumbled.
"Art!"
"Whatever…"
Alfred inwardly smiled at the two, "Well, I should go start dinner…oh, Master Tim, Master Bruce might like to have his newspaper back." The Butler extended a hand.
"Ah…" Tim chuckled, "yeah…" He gave the extended hand what it desired and sighed.
"Thank you." Alfred nodded and made his way into the kitchen.
Poor Tim, now he had no form of entertainment. He was just about to give that other photograph of the Mayor a mustache too! He began to chew on the pencil, formulating and deducing as unoccupied minds have a tendency to do. He was about to give up all hope of devising something worthwhile until he viewed Dick and then his pencil. And then Dick. And then his pencil. And then Dick. And then his pencil. A grin spread upon his boyish face as boredom suddenly left the small youth.
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The Embassy Suites was a beautiful display with its two, modest fountains liberally flowing outside the glass doorways. Outside stood two, handsome bell boys neatly dressed in their usual costume of a red jacket, black pants and a little, bell boy hat. It was unbelievably hectic that particular night for the building was to contain two of the most well-known faces in Gotham City. That of Bruce Wayne and the rock-star Terry McGottart. Both had grown up in Gotham and were due to appear at 7 sharp. It was 6:55 at that precise moment and needless to say, the managers stress levels rose as the finishing touches were made, orders were barked and jobs fulfilled.
Terry McGottart was the first to arrive in his eccentric yet glorious splendor. As his hot-pink limo pulled up, the bellboy swung the door open and out popped the familiar face clad in a purple tuxedo, complete with frills. His hair was carelessly thrown about as if it had been through a whirlwind while his shoes were a very, bright orange. Undeniably, he was quite an interesting sight!
And what does Terry McGottart have to do with this tale? Legal purposes…
Luckily for Bruce, when his traditional Rolls Royce parked in front of the building, a good chunk of the reporters had followed the previous-arrived rock-star.
"Not much press to bother you tonight, Master Bruce." Alfred whispered as he finished opening the car door for the celebrity.
"Yes, I know, Thank you Alfred." He murmured back and stepped onto the red carpet, squinting as a few flashes greeted him. Ah yes…he forgot about the camera's. Reporters and cameras…can't have one without the other. But, that was all unimportant now for he was going to see her. That's what this was all about. Not the press, not the popularity, but her.
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Once he escorted himself inside the hotel's reserved, private, elegant dining room, he was ushered to a table and handed a menu. He thanked the waiter and glanced around. Where was she? He sighed and entertained himself by figuring out his first course.
Swiftly, a pair of hands covered his eyes, "Guess who stranger?" It teased.
Bruce grinned and gently pried the hands off, turning to view his long-awaited guest.
She was still as he remembered, with minor differences. Her hair was still as brown, eyes still as blue, figure still well-kept and face still as beautiful. She was clad in a modest suit that consisted of black pants with a purple top and stylish black flats.
"Are you going to gawk like that all night? Of course I know I'm sexy! You don't have to tell me that." She laughed at her own joke and took her seat beside him.
"You cut your hair," He inspected the short, mop that lay on her head, "I thought you said you wanted to let it gr-"
"Grow till I could wear it as an outfit," She interrupted, "I know. It finally got long enough and I hated it! It was so hot, sticky and disgusting. I tripped over it constantly and spent all my money on shampoo! So, one day I decided to get it hacked off and that's just what I did!" She timidly peeked at him, "Do you like it?"
"Yeah, I do. It looks good on you." Smiling at her, he stated, "It's been a long time…"
"Too long, Brucey, too long!"
"It's really nice to hear someone call me that. It's either Master Bruce, Mr. Wayne or Bruce, never Brucey," A playful glint entered his eyes as his humor poked out from behind that cold exterior, "But, you do realize that I'm being very lenient letting you call me that…"
"Ooooh, that's right. What if the reporters catch wind of your little pet name! The world will come to an end!"
"Yes, so best be careful…or I will have to kill you…" He shook an index finger at the small woman. It had always been as if Trixie was there for the sole purpose of relaxing Bruce, bringing out his humorous side. Yes, Bruce did have a humorous side and Trixie was very well acquainted with it.
"You keep shaking your finger like that and I'm going to bite it…"
"Excuse me love but, is this the 'private' party?" McGottart interrupted as he stuck his head through the door, "Ah, why yes it is! Bruce Wayne wouldn't be here if it weren't!" He popped into the room, agents and a few reporters, waving their press passes, close on his heels.
"Great…" Mr. Wayne forced a smile. Just what he needed, reporters and a social rock-star.
Trixie leaned over the table and murmured into Bruce's ear, "Just peachy…my top half looks exactly like McGottart's, down to the very color. That's just not right…"
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"Lemme go…please?"
"Heh…keep trying…"
"I'll give you my…uhm…my bike?"
"Already have one, thanks…"
Alfred removed his coat and laid eyes on the odd situation which he found the two youths, upon entering the Wayne Mansion. The retired Robin was as Alfred left him, head in palms, absorbed into the television in front of him, the only difference was he was seated upon Tim, on the floor. Tim, laying underneath of Dick's rear-end had a very uncomfortable and helpless expression plastered on his features as he occasionally fought to get away. The Butler shook his head and taking one step forward, heard a cracking sound. He lifted up his shoe and saw what seemed to be the end of a pencil, eraser still intact. In fact, a pile of discarded, broken pencil pieces were spread out across the carpet and...on Dick's clothing? Deciding it better not to inquire, the Butler continued to walk into the living room, past the two bodies.
"Alfred! A little help?"
Halting in his tracks, he turned to the helpless lad, "I will only help once you have picked up your mess," And then resuming his pace, he headed out of the room.
"Keep trying Timmy. Alfred there sees that you got yourself into this on your own."
"Grr…don't call me that! It was the pencils and the boringness! I swear it!" He struggled under the older youths weight.
"Yeah sure, that's what all little boys who poke the hell outta their peers say. You're lucky I didn't smash you like your pencil-friend over there. So, get comfortable."
"That's what you said an hour ago…"
"And I say it once more, get comfortable."
He gasped, "Ah…can't…breath…all…going…black…" And then fainted.
Dick mockingly sighed and bounced on Tim, forcing air out of the lad.
"Gack!" He breathed.
"See, all fixed…breathe better now?" Dick smirked, eyes still glued to that big screen television.
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It had been a wonderful evening as far as Bruce Wayne's standards. Conveniently, the press and agents had much more interest in the Rock-Star then the Millionaire so; they left Bruce and his lady friend alone for the most part. He had wonderful meal full of laughter and "catching up" that took place. During the meal, he had forgotten how good it was to be with Trixie. Not only had her outside appearance failed to change, but her attitude as well. Once again, Bruce had fallen back in love with the young girl who had left him so many years ago.
After the plates were cleared, the two had taken up a walk through the city. The lights were wonderfully brilliant as a glorious moon and stars greeted the couple during their stroll. Soon, they found themselves strolling through Gotham Park, enjoying their surroundings.
"Wow…the city is really beautiful…I've forgotten what Gotham looked like at night…" Trixie breathed as she gazed at the familiar sights surrounding her. She twirled around in the moonlight, all the while gazing above.
"Mmmhmm…" Bruce nodded, staring at the figure before him. An unknowing grin snuck upon his face.
"What?" She stopped underneath a lamp post, tilting her head.
Shaking his head, he replied, "Nothing…Nothing at all." He gave her his million-dollar smile as reassurance.
She shrugged, "Alright," Walking over to him, she took his arm, "So, where to Brucey? Robbing some banks? Popping out of trash cans as an old couple walks by, just for the fun of it? Or, my favorite, stealing candy from a few babies? Hm?"
"Hmm…tough choice…so much havoc to cause in this city…so little time."
"Yeah, you must have such a hard time resisting the temptation! I don't know how we all did way back
when! But, make a choice soon because I've got a busy day tomorrow and should be back catching some z's real soon."
"So soon?" He glanced at his watch and frowned.
"Yeah, gotta go family hopping. Big family equals Biiiig family visiting when you go visit. Sometimes I
wonder how I remember them all! And then I got some other stuff to take care of…but, I do hope that we can do this again." She stared up at him with an expression she had never showed her long-term friend. That of love.
Could this be true? Was she actually agreeing to a date? She had never, in the past, agreed or even showed the want to further their friendship. In fact, whenever he tried she would always back off.
Taken aback by this sudden offer, his heart pounded and he dumbfoundedly muttered a "yes" as he gave the starry-eyed girl a dazed grin.
"Good, you know Bruce…I've actually really missed you over the last few years and…I just wanted to
say that I'm sorry for being so stubbon be-"
"Shh…no need to apologize." He gently brushed a short, strand of brown hair from her forehead,
tucking it behind her ear.
Giving his arm a squeeze, she beamed up at the playboy.
Words were spoken after that and conversation was made but, none were as important as those spoke
in that very spot, underneath the shelter of the lamp light. As the night progressed, the couple found themselves outside the designated hotel room as a small, simple kiss was shared between the two in the quiet of the hallway. A spark was kindled in one body, the other, an old flame burned brighter. And soon, both the love-struck gentleman and gentlewoman stumbled into their humble abodes light-hearted and clear-eyed.
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