vi. When She Fell In Love
She sat in a quaint little café that Bruce had taken her to once, the first time they went for a walk through the park. It had the first day when the sun shone in Gotham after the endless days of storm. Chloe had enjoyed that afternoon. It was still very cold and the streets were slippery because of the melting ice. Bruce called her at home and told her that the snow had stopped.
Chloe had peeked out her window and answered him, "Is it night?" Her clock said that it was one in the afternoon, but it seemed too dark. If the snow had stopped, then surely it should be bright by then.
"No, Chloe. The sun is shining."
"Then maybe someone put a roof over my street because there is no way that's sunshine."
"The sun shines differently in Gotham City, Chloe. Believe me, that gray is actually the brightest you will find in here."
"Depressing," she commented offhandedly, forgetting rather conveniently that it was the very reason she settled here.
"You'll find it a lot more cheerful if we walked outside."
She grinned at that. "My brain was suddenly bombarded by an image of being walked by a leash. Only dogs are schedules to be walked through the streets, Mr Wayne."
"Three dates, Chloe. Surely you can find some wedge or space in your undoubtedly full memory to remember that we called each other by our first names the first night we met."
Her answer was, "I think I'm not a dog. A bitch, maybe, but not a dog."
"My brain is bombarded by an image of you on a leash too, but in an entirely different context," he parried back.
'Well thank you for being considerate enough to send me a judo master too. You really leave nothing to chance, do you, Lex?'
Since his silence the morning that Bruce called, Lex's voice in her head had never occurred again. Chloe felt largely deserted by his absence.
"Besides," Bruce said, "we will be walking in the park."
That made her pause. "Gotham City has a park?" she exclaimed in disbelief.
"Gotham is not the sixth hell. Of course it has a park."
"And it has a plaque somewhere that has your name on it," she answered.
"It does not. Contrary to popular belief, I did not donate all things civilized in this great, albeit gloomy, city." And because he could never lie to her, he elaborated, "It's my father's name on that plaque."
His words made her smile. "All right. I'll meet you in the lobby."
"Great. Alfred's parked in front of your building. He'll take you here."
Chloe had laughed and went to that walk in the park with him, even capped it with dinner several hours later. And Chloe had met him for lunch the week after, for dinner at his house the night after that. In fact, they had met so many times by now that she had lost track of every date.
Now, here in this café where they took their meal after their walk that day that Gotham ironically had termed the beginning of spring, Chloe looked over the menu. She needed to crave something, just to add spice in her life. What little light there was in the room was blocked by a looming shadow in front of her. She looked up to see what the large object was.
Before she could speak or greet him, Bruce Wayne asked her, "What do you do for a living?" He sat in front of her, and she was puzzled.
"I told you, didn't I?" she said softly. "I'm not working at the moment. I've taken time off my graduate studies."
"What school?"
The abrupt manner with which he asked her made her stiffen. With no small amount of hostility, she answered, "You wouldn't know it. I was studying abroad."
"How do you support yourself?"
"Have you seen my apartment?" she answered back.
"Mouse hole that it was," Bruce said, "Gotham property prices has soared so much that it would still be expensive."
Her eyes narrowed at him. "I have my savings. What's with the third degree?"
"So you're rich?" It was odd. His barrage of questions was thrown at her in the same calm and deep voice that he used with everything else. "Or is the Daily Planet sending you your salary while you're investigating me?"
She remembered another woman caught in the very same situation with Lex. When he had told her about that instance in his past, she had defended his actions even to himself. But now, trapped in the same horror, Chloe blanched and pushed her chair back. She stiffly took her purse and walked out of the café.
Before she reached the door, he called back to her, "Explain it to me, Chloe."
Without looking back at him, she replied coldly, "You're the great researcher. Research."
He watched her retreating back and stared intently at the table in front of him. He only wanted to know something about her so that he could plan a surprise. It had been six months since they met. Bruce knew, from all the women who had passed in his life, that women enjoyed celebrating milestones. He had thought that this was the best way he could show her how much his feelings for her had altered. To his shock, he found out that the woman who was coming to mean so much to him was part of the biggest news media in the country.
Bruce could call the Daily Planet and confirm if she had in fact been sent on assignment after him. He would not need to inform them of who he was. All he had to do was pretend to be a relative and see if she was out on assignment. He took his phone from his pocket and dialed the number.
It was still ringing when he changed his mind. He slipped it back into his coat and stood up. Bruce was set to run when he found her, bright blonde hair in stark contrast to the gray city. She was sitting in the bench just a few buildings away. He walked over to her slowly.
"You know nothing about me," her emotionless voice reached him.
He sat down beside her. "I'm sorry. I'm trying to reach you, Chloe. I feel that I just can't get past something you're putting up between us." He looked down at her, but she did not meet his gaze. Chloe stared at the cemented street in front of her. Tentatively, he reached for her hand, relieved when she did not snatch it back. "Whatever it is that sent you here." He saw the flicker in her eyes when he said that. "Or whoever it is. I'll help you get over. But what we have is too special to ignore."
She turned her head now to meet his eyes, her own swimming. "I'll never get over him because I don't want to. So don't look into my past because you'll find things that you won't like."
"Okay," he murmured easily, too easily.
"And I will never love you like I loved him."
A space of two breaths. "Okay."
"And he's dead but you'll never take his place."
"Okay."
"You have to be crazy to be agreeing to this."
"Sure," he answered softly.
Bruce leaned his head close to hers. His large hand reached to cup her pale cheek. His thumb brushed away one of her tears. He placed his lips tenderly over hers.
Chloe closed her eyes and surrendered herself to the kiss, her last thought for the moment was that Lex used to hold the back of her neck when they kissed, and that his lips were so much softer. She warned him enough. It was no longer her fault. Bruce will kiss her again, maybe tomorrow, maybe later. But she will still be kissing another man.
She sat in a quaint little café that Bruce had taken her to once, the first time they went for a walk through the park. It had the first day when the sun shone in Gotham after the endless days of storm. Chloe had enjoyed that afternoon. It was still very cold and the streets were slippery because of the melting ice. Bruce called her at home and told her that the snow had stopped.
Chloe had peeked out her window and answered him, "Is it night?" Her clock said that it was one in the afternoon, but it seemed too dark. If the snow had stopped, then surely it should be bright by then.
"No, Chloe. The sun is shining."
"Then maybe someone put a roof over my street because there is no way that's sunshine."
"The sun shines differently in Gotham City, Chloe. Believe me, that gray is actually the brightest you will find in here."
"Depressing," she commented offhandedly, forgetting rather conveniently that it was the very reason she settled here.
"You'll find it a lot more cheerful if we walked outside."
She grinned at that. "My brain was suddenly bombarded by an image of being walked by a leash. Only dogs are schedules to be walked through the streets, Mr Wayne."
"Three dates, Chloe. Surely you can find some wedge or space in your undoubtedly full memory to remember that we called each other by our first names the first night we met."
Her answer was, "I think I'm not a dog. A bitch, maybe, but not a dog."
"My brain is bombarded by an image of you on a leash too, but in an entirely different context," he parried back.
'Well thank you for being considerate enough to send me a judo master too. You really leave nothing to chance, do you, Lex?'
Since his silence the morning that Bruce called, Lex's voice in her head had never occurred again. Chloe felt largely deserted by his absence.
"Besides," Bruce said, "we will be walking in the park."
That made her pause. "Gotham City has a park?" she exclaimed in disbelief.
"Gotham is not the sixth hell. Of course it has a park."
"And it has a plaque somewhere that has your name on it," she answered.
"It does not. Contrary to popular belief, I did not donate all things civilized in this great, albeit gloomy, city." And because he could never lie to her, he elaborated, "It's my father's name on that plaque."
His words made her smile. "All right. I'll meet you in the lobby."
"Great. Alfred's parked in front of your building. He'll take you here."
Chloe had laughed and went to that walk in the park with him, even capped it with dinner several hours later. And Chloe had met him for lunch the week after, for dinner at his house the night after that. In fact, they had met so many times by now that she had lost track of every date.
Now, here in this café where they took their meal after their walk that day that Gotham ironically had termed the beginning of spring, Chloe looked over the menu. She needed to crave something, just to add spice in her life. What little light there was in the room was blocked by a looming shadow in front of her. She looked up to see what the large object was.
Before she could speak or greet him, Bruce Wayne asked her, "What do you do for a living?" He sat in front of her, and she was puzzled.
"I told you, didn't I?" she said softly. "I'm not working at the moment. I've taken time off my graduate studies."
"What school?"
The abrupt manner with which he asked her made her stiffen. With no small amount of hostility, she answered, "You wouldn't know it. I was studying abroad."
"How do you support yourself?"
"Have you seen my apartment?" she answered back.
"Mouse hole that it was," Bruce said, "Gotham property prices has soared so much that it would still be expensive."
Her eyes narrowed at him. "I have my savings. What's with the third degree?"
"So you're rich?" It was odd. His barrage of questions was thrown at her in the same calm and deep voice that he used with everything else. "Or is the Daily Planet sending you your salary while you're investigating me?"
She remembered another woman caught in the very same situation with Lex. When he had told her about that instance in his past, she had defended his actions even to himself. But now, trapped in the same horror, Chloe blanched and pushed her chair back. She stiffly took her purse and walked out of the café.
Before she reached the door, he called back to her, "Explain it to me, Chloe."
Without looking back at him, she replied coldly, "You're the great researcher. Research."
He watched her retreating back and stared intently at the table in front of him. He only wanted to know something about her so that he could plan a surprise. It had been six months since they met. Bruce knew, from all the women who had passed in his life, that women enjoyed celebrating milestones. He had thought that this was the best way he could show her how much his feelings for her had altered. To his shock, he found out that the woman who was coming to mean so much to him was part of the biggest news media in the country.
Bruce could call the Daily Planet and confirm if she had in fact been sent on assignment after him. He would not need to inform them of who he was. All he had to do was pretend to be a relative and see if she was out on assignment. He took his phone from his pocket and dialed the number.
It was still ringing when he changed his mind. He slipped it back into his coat and stood up. Bruce was set to run when he found her, bright blonde hair in stark contrast to the gray city. She was sitting in the bench just a few buildings away. He walked over to her slowly.
"You know nothing about me," her emotionless voice reached him.
He sat down beside her. "I'm sorry. I'm trying to reach you, Chloe. I feel that I just can't get past something you're putting up between us." He looked down at her, but she did not meet his gaze. Chloe stared at the cemented street in front of her. Tentatively, he reached for her hand, relieved when she did not snatch it back. "Whatever it is that sent you here." He saw the flicker in her eyes when he said that. "Or whoever it is. I'll help you get over. But what we have is too special to ignore."
She turned her head now to meet his eyes, her own swimming. "I'll never get over him because I don't want to. So don't look into my past because you'll find things that you won't like."
"Okay," he murmured easily, too easily.
"And I will never love you like I loved him."
A space of two breaths. "Okay."
"And he's dead but you'll never take his place."
"Okay."
"You have to be crazy to be agreeing to this."
"Sure," he answered softly.
Bruce leaned his head close to hers. His large hand reached to cup her pale cheek. His thumb brushed away one of her tears. He placed his lips tenderly over hers.
Chloe closed her eyes and surrendered herself to the kiss, her last thought for the moment was that Lex used to hold the back of her neck when they kissed, and that his lips were so much softer. She warned him enough. It was no longer her fault. Bruce will kiss her again, maybe tomorrow, maybe later. But she will still be kissing another man.