Title: Life Is Good: XI
Author: D C Luder
Summary: The second addition in the Series of Three storyline. Se three months after his full recovery, the Dark Knight is back with a vengeance.
Rating: T
Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.
V
"What the hell did you do? Stand there and say 'Run me over, please'?"
I sat on the gurney, holding an ice pack to my right shoulder while Alfred secured a splint to my pointer and middle fingers of that arm's hand. Compress bandages were taped over several gashes on my abdomen, back and chest as well as a mass of gauze and tape was settled over a slice on my left calf muscle. There was the uneasy feeling in my stomach that suggested internal bruising and maybe even damage.
Getting hit by a Lincoln Navigator tended to leave a bit of a mark.
Selina stood next to Alfred, her bathrobe had come undone to reveal a black silk nightie. She had slipped on my loafers, which were beyond roomy for her size nine feet. Although it was nearing four in the morning, her hair was in perfect order, curled and fluffed in a manner she usually did for evening dinners in town. Even though I probably had a minor concussion, my vision was still pretty good and I could make out the soft touches of eye shadow and lipstick on her face. And of course I could never be in her presence without noticing her perfume...
All dressed up.
For us.
For our second anniversary.
Damn.
I had planned on a quiet night of patrols, had even asked Batgirl to cover additional property in her routine so I could ensure an early evening. Selina had planned a "one in the morning date" for us and had warned if I had been late by even one minute she would be drinking the champagne and eating the chocolate covered strawberries and I was welcome to sleep in the Cave for the next month.
I was late by two hours.
The night had been disrupted by a group of drug dealers that had holed up in an all night rental car facility north of 17th Avenue after being chased by police. There were four employees present and three customers. Good enough for a well rounded group of hostages. SWAT and Special Crimes had been called in as well as the veteran negotiator on the force. There seemed to be no escape for the group of frightened and trigger-happy men inside. The police felt they had everything in control and had even rationalized that the "leader" of the group wasn't of the "evil" type, merely the "scared when cornered" type.
That was until they executed a hostage.
Twenty-eight year old Veronica Blair had been thrown out of the second story window, riddled with bullets and stripped naked. She had swapped shifts for that night with another employee so she could spend the weekend with her boyfriend and his parents.
I had arrived just as police went into panic mode as so often occurs when a dead civilian, especially a dead hostage civilian, is thrown in their faces. I checked in with Gordon, who had also just arrived and then commanded that all attempts to communicate with the men inside were to be ended.
Within a half of an hour, the four drug dealers were unconscious, sporting fresh bruises and several broken ribs, bound by the hands and feet and also were thrown from the second story window. The hostages had been locked up in a small office and were at first frightened at my presence. Once they realized I wasn't the enemy, a wave of relief washed over them. The first to be ungagged called out that there was another "bad man" in the subterranean garage and he was going to escape if everything went bad.
Within two minutes I had made it to the garage and had begun to search the lot. The rev of an engine caught my attention and when I turned to look, a navy blue SUV was heading towards me, lights flashing. I dove out of the way and threw a Batarang at the driver. The windshield glass shattered and the car swerved to the right.
I rose quickly and chased after the vehicle, chancing a glance at the driver. When the SUV pulled a sudden 180, I realized he wasn't the fleeing type. He wasn't even the criminal type.
In the driver's seat was an older man in a wrinkled suit that was held at gunpoint by the passenger, a taller man who wore a dark leather coat and wool cap. When the vehicle was within fifty yards, the passenger aimed the gun at me and fired six consecutive shots, each of which whizzed by, missing by mere inches. Impressive, for a moving target being shot at from a moving vehicle.
With the gun now off of him, the hostage slammed on the brakes, causing the SUV to swerve wildly. Since he was not wearing his seat belt, the gun holder slammed into the passenger side window before flying over to the dashboard. I leapt to get out of the path of the vehicle, but in that split second, I saw the passenger reach for the wheel and jerk it towards himself, causing the vehicle to spin around and directly at me.
I leapt to avoid a majority of the blow and dug my fingers into the ski rack on the roof of the vehicle. Even still, I felt a few wet snaps in my side that turned breathing into an inferno of pain. As the SUV approached the garage door, I began to climb the roof in order to make my way to the front of the vehicle. The sensory-activated door began to rise, but not quickly enough. The car lurched forward with sudden acceleration and I felt the bite of metal scrape my back, even through the Kevlar and the cape.
Now on the main street, police barricades blocked both ends. Perhaps they didn't see me, or perhaps they didn't care, but the tactical force opened fire. The tires blew and the car decelerated quickly and began to turn to the left, towards the actual car rental building. I felt bullets clip my leg and body but felt no pain.
That was until the SUV slammed into the wall and sent me airborne. The passenger had been knocked unconscious by the crash and the driver was cradled in the air bag. I flipped over the roof and landed by the driver's door, shoulder first into the cement. I stood quickly, even though the feeling had gone from my arm, and attempted to open the door. It had been jammed shut and I was forced to break open the window. With a knife, I sliced the air bag and checked the vitals of the driver as the emergency crew rushed in behind the police.
And after all of the drama of the night, I returned home, limping, sore, bleeding, disoriented, swollen, scraped and exhausted to a woman that was not about to offer any sympathy. For I had ruined our anniversary dinner and for that I was going to Hell.
Before I could answer her ridiculous question, she continued, "Bruce, it's things like these that drive me nuts and you know it," she caught me staring at her nightie and proceeded to cinch her house coat around her, "Alfred, be sure to use alcohol on those wounds."
"Yes, Madam," he replied as he reached for his suture tray.
As he began work on the leg wound, I found my voice, "Selina, I tried my best, but things come up that I can't control."
"Still when they said hostage takers at the car joint, you should have..."
"What, send in Robin or Batgirl, they wouldn't have come out as nicely as I did, Selina," I growled as I motioned at my tattered form.
I saw the anger in her eyes soften as a trace of guilt rose in them. I looked down at Alfred's hands for a distraction. He was already finishing up and I hadn't felt a thing. After ten thousand stitches, the process had come to seem rather painless.
As he began to remove the soiled bandages on my abdomen, I felt rather than saw Selina sit beside me on the gurney. She sighed audibly and took the ice pack from me and placed it gently on the back of my shoulder. I kept my eyes on Alfred's fingers as he applied fresh bandages.
The quietness in the Cave was shocking, even the bats had taken to silence.
Alfred cleared his throat, "I'll return shortly, I'll have to fetch more suture material," he rose and walked briskly out of the medical bay and towards the storage area fifty yards away. I knew he kept a fully stocked inventory and supply right there in the bay. But Alfred always had a method to his madness.
Selina moved the ice pack to my bruised collarbone, "Still, Bruce, you should have showed more --- I don't know, discretion."
"Possibly," I murmured as the hot tissue of my shoulder cooled and relaxed.
I felt her free hand touch my forearm, perhaps one of the few unscathed places on my body. She traced an eight year-old scar and spoke, "And the police would have been able to handle it, I'm sure."
"Not to bash the boy's in blue, but their way ended with a dead hostage. My way ended with a trashed SUV."
"And a trashed body," she replied softly, her hand slipping down to embrace mine.
"Occupational hazard," I commented after squeezing her hand briefly.
As if he had sensed the decrease in tension, Alfred returned with a small basket of suture kits and sterilized bandages. He set them on a utility tray and seated himself on a stool. Eye level with my wounds, he worked his magic.
Things had been running smoothly, perhaps too smoothly. Mattie's birthday had been last month and had been celebrated with family and friends. Selina made me invite social acquaintances in order to seem polite. Mattie couldn't have cared less if the Kents came or if upper levels of Wayne Enterprise staff brought her balloons depicting Sponge Bob. All she cared was that there were lots of faces and she got to rip up paper and eat ice cream. What more could a child ask for?
In both aspects of my work, progress had been made as well. Business was booming, so to speak, and I had absorbed a three million dollar real estate firm in downtown Gotham. Not too shabby for a deal made over chicken parm at two in the morning with a man who had been putting off selling out for three decades.
Batman had also met success in his quest, with the average crime rate of the year dropping twenty-three percent. Although other cities didn't see it, it was an improvement for Gotham and that was all that mattered. All unaccounted for criminals were tucked away in Arkham or Blackgate and the only real threats were the drug lords, who had surprisingly taken to the lower ground and remained out of trouble for nearly two months.
Until that night, anyways.
But everything could change in the blink of an eye, something I had come to know all too well. There was no way to know when, only to be prepared for when it happened. The calm before the storm...
V
Once Alfred wrapped up Bruce's ribs and had applied bandages over the sutures, he gave his patient a dose of antibiotics and a tetanus booster. Bruce slipped off of the gurney, stretched his arms and the turned to face me. I sat for moment and then stepped off as well, taking hold of his proffered hand. Even with my back to him, I knew Alfred was smiling.
We walked up stairs slowly, Bruce cautiously taking the steps one at a time. I almost commented on how sore he was going to be the next day, but he suddenly fell and collapsed onto the stairway.
My scream pierced the hall and moments later Alfred was at my side, his face too serene for the event that just took place. I stammered how he had fainted and asked repeatedly what was wrong with him.
He patted Bruce's face a few times and helped him to his feet, but failed to respond to my questions. I followed, my hands on Bruce's back, trying to offer some support. Alfred guided him up the remaining stairs and then to our bedroom. I went in first, pulled down the blankets and helped him into bed. In the soft lamplight, Bruce's face was calm and sleepy, his lids heavy over his eyes. Alfred still remained silent as he pulled the covers about Bruce's now slumbering form.
He placed a hand on my elbow and ushered me a few feet away. I had never felt angry with Alfred, but at that moment, I wanted to pummel him, "What the hell is going on?"
"Selina, please, calm yourself. I mixed a sedative with Master Bruce's antibiotic injection. I had expected him to at least make it to bed before it would take its hold on him, but obviously he is more fatigued than I had anticipated."
"You doped him up?"
He nodded curtly, his face saying that he didn't find anything wrong with it.
I sighed, relieved it wasn't anything serious. My mind had been flooded with concern, fears and worries that his injuries had conflicted with those from the past, or at the very least that they were more severe than first thought.
"Will there be anything else?" Alfred asked suddenly.
I touched his arm gently and shook my head, "Thanks, Alfred."
"One does try to please," he commented briefly before leaving the room and shutting the doors very gently.
With my heart rate somewhat back to normal, I switched the lamp off and got into bed slowly, as to not wake Bruce. Even sedated he would most likely wake up with my luck. Once under the covers, I shimmied over to him and rested my head in the crook of his good shoulder. His breaths were light and soundless, and came in soothing rhythm. It didn't take long for me to succumb as well.
I woke the next morning, not to Alfred's presence nor the sound of the shower.
But of all things, to Frank Sinatra's voice singing "I've Got You Under My Skin."
After flipping back the covers, I sat up to see it was just seven in the morning. The stereo towards the west wall of the room was on and was in fact the origin of the light jazz that floated about the dawn-dark room. I was about to call out Bruce's name, but was distracted by a small white envelope on his pillow. In perfect calligraphy, it stated my name.
To hell with the myth, I never could bottle my curiosity.
Inside, was a small piece of heavy writing paper that was also filled with calligraphy. One of Bruce's many romantic qualities was his handwriting. As I scanned the words, I smiled at the beginnings of a romantic poem: Roses are Red, Violets are Blue...
I read the last part aloud, out of sheer confusion," 'Eggs, Milk, Coffee.' What the hell?"
I read it a few more times, not seeing any humor or romance in the words. Frustrated and confused as to what the note meant, I crumpled the paper and tossed it over the end of the bed. Isis, who had been sleeping on the floor, came to life suddenly and attacked the paper ball. "Kill it, honey, save me some time."
I rose and retrieved my robe from the floor. After donning it, I searched the room and the bathroom for Bruce. Instead, I found three more cards with my name on it: one on the couch by the window, one on top of the sink and another in my underwear drawer of the dresser.
All right, Bruce was strange, I knew that, but this was just plain weird.
Each card had its own bit of poetry or tidbit on it that further confused my coffee-deprived mind.
"Women and cats will do as they please, and men and dogs should relax and get used to the idea. --- Robert A. Heinlein."
"There was an old bulldog named Caesar, who went for a cat just to tease her. But she spat and she spit, till the old bulldog quit. Now when poor Caesar sees her, he flees her. --- Unknown."
"In my experience, cats and beds seem to be a natural combination. --- Louis J. Camuti, DVM "
I sat on the edge of the bed and tore up the cards, letting the pieces fall on Isis. My anger was rising to a very unhealthy level. What was he trying to get at? Why couldn't he be normal and just say things at inappropriate times like normal guys? No, he had to be unique, a regular old individual that man was.
The door to the bedroom opened suddenly to Bruce, wearing his black robe over dark pajama pants and his bandages. In his less wounded arm, he balanced a tray of coffee, toast and sliced fruit. On his face he wore a smile of smugness.
As his eyes took in the confetti mess on the floor, his smile lessened slightly before he set the tray down on the bedside table and then sat himself next to me, "Didn't like my notes?"
"No, Bruce, I didn't like your notes. Hated them in fact."
He shrugged, "It was worth a try."
I stared at him briefly before asking, "What the hell is this all about?"
"What's what about?" he replied as he reached over and selected a piece of orange.
"The notes, the music," I took the fruit from his hand, "This?"
He took a breath, "Well, I was thinking last night, you know while Alfred sewed me back together," he waited for a slight nod on my part. One he never got. He continued, "Our first real date started two years ago yesterday at 8: 15 p.m. and ended two years ago from today at 12:45 in the morning. Therefore, that would make the entire day yesterday our anniversary, and then the entire day today as well, not just the first forty-five minutes. If we wanted to be technical it could be only yesterday, but I think it's more suitable if we expand it to both days. So if the whole day yesterday was lost and all of today is still our anniversary, it gives me," he glanced at his watch, "Sixteen hours and fifty-one minutes to make it up to you."
"Make what up?"
"Missing the first twenty-seven hours of our anniversary," he said as if it were the most logical thing in the world.
I laughed quietly; Alfred may have slipped him a bit too much. My hand reached out and caressed his stubble-free face, "Bruce."
"Yes?"
"What time did you get up this morning?"
"Five-thirty."
I sighed and laid back onto the bed, my legs draped over the end, "That's about eight hours too soon, dear."
"No, I'm fine, really. I changed Mattie, fed her, even read her a book. I've arranged for Dick and Barbara to sit for her all day today, they'll be here at nine to pick her up." He picked up his coffee mug and sipped it carefully before setting it back on the tray. "And besides, the more I sit still, the sorer I'll be. And I have lunch all planned out, and then we're going to go to town for dinner and then to any play, musical, movie, whatever you want, I have tickets for every show tonight at nine. After, we can come back here and I already set up for patrol to be covered tonight so we won't miss a minute of the next," another glance at the watch, "Sixteen hours and forty-nine minutes."
He reclined beside me and I saw him wince twice during the process. He smiled briefly before leaning over and kissing me. After a moment I broke away and asked, "How long have you been planning this scheme of yours?"
He kissed my lips again and then moved along my jaw, my neck. Finally he answered, "Since five-thirty this morning."
V
We were at a red light on Hudson Drive, three miles away from the Bristol exit. I miraculously had the day off and had caught Barbara's phone call this morning in between returning from patrol and sleeping. She had sounded excited and had asked me to help sit for Mattie all day Saturday. My other option had been to do laundry or even worse, clean my apartment; so spending the day with my baby sister seemed like a better plan.
Barbara was in the passenger seat of her car, tapping away at her Palm Pilot. She had a whole schedule of things she wanted to do today, including taking the Wayne baby to some sort of toddler fun center in Neville. All right, a day with my baby sister in a fun house with sixty other screaming kids... Maybe laundry wouldn't have been that bad after all.
The light changed and we moved forward for a while. Traffic hadn't been bad so far, but I knew there was some construction on Route 36, the road that paved the way through Bristol. As we cruised the four-lane highway, I glanced out the window off and on. Even though March was around the corner, the weather had been unseasonably warm, with most of the year's twenty inches of snow long gone. Today's high was forty-five with a chance of showers this afternoon.
Whoopee.
I made the exit in good time and cleared my throat once we were on our way, "Barbara, did he say what's going on?"
She looked up, paused briefly and closed her mini-computer, "No, not really. Said he was spending the day with Selina. That he had some plans for the day." After a beat, she suggested, "It may have to do with the fact that he got the crap beat out of him last night."
My eyes widened, "What?"
"You didn't see it on the news?"
I shook my head, having not watched the morning news for nearly five years, more so because I was never awake at the time it aired.
"Some drug lords were cornered by the cops, held hostages at a car rental place. Cops tried to play nice, ended up with one dead hostage. Batman showed up, beat up the baddies inside, then found one that was trying to get away. From the way he described it, it was nothing, but Dad said he looked half dead by the end of it."
"Wow."
"Yeah."
I drew a breath slowly, "He's all right, though. Right?"
"Yeah, sounded fine to me. Said a few stitches and ice packs, he'll be good as new."
"Then what's this about him needing cover for patrol?"
She shrugged, "Maybe he wants to take a night off, to rest."
I snorted, "This is Bruce, we're talking about. He doesn't rest after getting banged up. He gets even."
She smiled and nodded, "True, but it's also their…" she bit her lip and faced her window.
"It's 'their' what?"
"Nothing. Their alone time," she replied, "They need to figure stuff out, for the wedding."
"Right," I grinned, "But what is it really, Ms. Gordon?"
"It's nothing," she commented, her voice trying to come off as stern, but it wavered ever so slightly.
"Oh, come on, you can't keep secrets, that's not fair."
She was quiet for another minute. I decided if she was going to be childish, that gave me the right to do so as well.
"Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please---" I whined.
"All right!" she called out, "Just stop that," she laughed and slapped my arm.
Victory was mine.
"It's their---" she paused, "You can't tell anyone, Grayson."
"I'm no snitch," I glanced at her, my face solemn. Inside I was giddy with the thought of new gossip form Wayne Manor. Since Mattie and the wedding was old news, I was fresh out of material.
"I mean it, Bruce'll never forgive me if you blab." I nodded and she continued, "Bruce said it was their anniversary. That it was yesterday too, and that they had a date and he blew it. So he was making it up by giving the entire day, and night, to her."
I put my blinker on and turned right onto the private road that lead to Wayne Manor's drive. I was silent until we reached the gates, "So, wait, they have two anniversaries? For what?"
She sighed, "He didn't really explain it in detail, just that their anniversary started yesterday and ended today."
"Hmm... And his gift/brown-nosing to Selina is to spend a whole day doing whatever?"
"Right."
I nodded, "I would have bought her a car."
She smacked my arm again, "I think it's very thoughtful, and romantic."
I parked near the front door of the Manor and cut the engine, "Was that a statement or a hint?"
"Let's say both."
Oh, boy.
I got out first and helped Barbara into her chair. We then made our way to the front door and entered. Not even ten feet from the door sat an organized mass of Mattie stuff. Her car seat, two bags of clothes, another of toys, and a travel crib, not to mention a tote bag that most likely contained every possible baby thing anyone would ever need.
Oh, boy again.
Barbara suggested that I load the "belongings" while she sought out Bruce or Selina. Never one to do anything easily, I loaded up all of the bags on my arms and shoulders and then carried the crib and car seat, stacked one on top of the other. As I was about to fight with the doorknob, I heard brisk footfalls that could only have belonged to one person.
"Honestly, Master Dick, would it have been so terrible to make two trips instead of a single hazardous one?"
I smiled as Alfred came into view, making his way to the door. He opened it and as I walked through, I winked at him, "Thanks, Al."
I placed everything in the back of the vehicle and then proceeded to set up the car seat. Ten minutes later, the damned thing was secure after I pinched my finger in a few of the clasps and snaps a few too many times. Alfred was waiting when I returned.
"So, is all that just for one day. Grief, I hardly take a toothbrush when I go away for a week."
"Well, unlike you, Master Dick, Miss Mattie has additional requirements that must be met on a hourly basis."
"Um, diapers?"
"In addition to her meals, naps and entertainment."
I scratched the back of my head, as if in deep thought, "I suppose that would make sense. So was there anything else we had to take with us? Her bedroom, perhaps?"
Alfred shook his head and was about to speak when we heard soft giggling and voices coming our way. I looked up to see Bruce, wearing a dark dress shirt and pants of a similar hue. To anyone else, he would have appeared casual, and despite the slight bruise on his forehead, he did look normal. Well, to someone who didn't know him as well as I did.
His gait was hitched slightly, and as I looked closer, I realized he was favoring the left leg. The lower left leg. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his forearms appeared to be free of injury, but on his right hand, there was a splint on two of his fingers. And I would have bet a thousand dollars that he had a mile of gauze wrapped around at least three broken ribs.
Rough night, indeed.
In his arms, Mattie bounced up and down as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Every few strides, her feet would tap his side and an almost invisible grimace would wash over his face. She was dressed in tiny blue jeans and dark brown boots. Under her purple coat, I saw the hint of a green long-sleeved shirt.
Selina was dressed in a black pantsuit with a white silk blouse. She'd put her raven hair up into a bun. In her hand, she carried another "Mattie bag." That one might have to sit on Barbara's lap, I mused to myself. Barbara was next to Selina and they appeared to be chatting to each other and ignoring Bruce's suffering.
All was well in Wayne Manor.
They paused next to Alfred and I. Selina smiled and said hello and Bruce nodded slightly. Mattie turned looked at me and squealed "Dichie!"
She let her grasp on Bruce go and squirmed in his arms as she reached out for me. Bruce grunted and handed her over. I noticed that his left arm only went half way. I hugged her and plastered her neck with fishie kisses. She giggled and repeated my name.
"You want to spend the day with me and Babs?"
"Dichie pay dohl!"
"Yes, we can play dolls" I nodded and grinned at her.
Barbara took the bag from Selina and said, "Well have fun, we'll try and tire her out as much as possible."
Selina nodded, "Yeah, the kids center sounds like something she'll get a kick out of. Right, Bruce?" She elbowed him in the ribs and his breath gave out.
We turned around after parting good-byes and made our way to the door. I let Barbara go first and then turned around halfway through the door. I took Mattie's hand and waved it back at her parents. In a high-pitched, helium-esque voice I called out, "Bye, Mommy! Bye, Daddy! Happy anniversary and don't forget to make me a baby brother tonight!"
Before Bruce could pummel me or before Selina could claw my eyes out, I dashed out the door and booked it to the car.
V
The day had run smoothly, with Dick, Mattie and I scouring the city for fun things to do. By four in the afternoon, we were all exhausted and ready for a group nap. We retired to the Clocktower and while Dick set up Mattie's crib in my room, I changed her one last time and fed her a bottle of warm milk.
The second Dick set her in the crib; she fell asleep, her tiny fingers wrapped around the tail of her stuffed panther.
We walked out to the living room and just as I was about to ask Dick if he wanted anything from the kitchen, he collapsed onto the sofa and moaned, "Remind me never to let you offer to do this again."
"I will try my best, Dick." I fetched a water bottle from the fridge and then returned to the living room. Dick had landed on his front, one arm pinned beneath him and the other draped to the floor. I patted his leg and he shifted over a bit. I pulled myself up and then laid next to him. "It wasn't so bad, was it?"
He shook his head, "If you forget three hours of kids screaming and Mattie deciding to convert from the angelic darling to the hellion heathen. Good lord, she's going to be fun when she's a teenager. They have their hands full, that's for sure."
I smiled, "Like you were always the behaved prince of charm."
"I never started a fight over a ball in a sea of balls in a giant ball pit. Thought she was going to get physical before I got there."
"She just needs to be socialized with kids her age. Selina is thinking about a playgroup that gets together on weekends. The kids play around, do whatever while the parents sit by and supervise. She just has to convince Bruce that Mattie's old enough and needs to start making friends other than Alfred."
"Yeah, that would probably help a bit. Living with too many grown ups can be a little dull."
I recalled what he said earlier as we left he Manor, "That's why we have siblings."
He grinned, "Who me?"
"Yes, you. And the little sly remark you made earlier, 'Make me a baby brother.' You do realize you won't be on Bruce's Good List for the next three years."
"Ah, so what. It was funny. Alfred smirked at least."
I laughed, "Yeah and Selina hissed."
"Meow," he replied.
We napped on the couch for two hours, dozing quietly. At ten after six, I got up and checked on Mattie. She was still deep in slumber and I didn't have the heart to wake her. Besides, it was going to be a long night anyway. Mattie's first introduction to the other part of her life. The night half. I had decided that later I would have Dick move her crib to the workroom so I could better keep an eye her.
Hopefully she would be able to sleep well, this being the first time away from home for an overnight without her parents. Bruce and Selina had taken her to a Bed and Breakfast in Canada for a weekend in January and that had been her first trip away. She had loved it, mostly because there was a moose that lived at the B&B, of which she called "Moob."
But seeing how close the family was, I really doubted anything would come up. At the Manor, Selina had told me that if she fussed too much, I could call her and she could come home. And when she went to get Mattie's bag, Bruce told me the same thing, but in not so many words, "If it gets bad, call, we'll come get her. If not, don't call."
Clear, to the point and oh so Bruce.
When I came back to the living room, Dick had gotten up and was in the kitchen. More specifically at the stove. I followed the odd sight and the intriguing smell. "What are you doing?"
"Cooking," he replied.
"Cooking what?"
"Spaghettio's. I don't have any at home."
I smiled, "That's because you don't shop."
"True. Mooching's easier on the wallet."
I made my way to the breadbox and retrieved two bagels. Once they were in the toaster oven, I found my water bottle from earlier and sat next to the table. "How long are you going to be in town tonight?"
"I don't know. I was thinking maybe I'd head back to 'Haven for a few hours then come back and finish off the night here. Was hoping I could crash here with you ladies if you don't mind."
I nodded, "Sounds like a plan to me. After last night, the city might be a little riled up but nothing too big had been going down. We've finally gotten everything under lock and key."
"All right. Where has Cass been working?"
"Mostly to the west. Bruce covers most of the downtown and east side, then they usually meet and finish up."
He turned the stove off and retrieved two bowls and two spoons. He poured the pan's contents in both bowls and then brought them over to the table. After another fifteen seconds, the timer went Ding! on the toaster and Dick retrieved the bagels. "Ouch!"
"Well, they did just sit in there at two-hundred and fifty degrees for a minute and a half."
He grumbled and tossed my bagel at me. I watched in awe as he slurped the Spaghettio's up, downed the bagel and put his dishes in the dishwasher. As he walked towards the bedroom, he winked at me.
He returned with Mattie and a jar of applesauce. She sported her pale pink bib and a smile. She ate quickly and looked up at Dick as if he was supposed to give her more. After a bit, she fussed and he rose and found a banana in the fridge. After breaking it up, he put it on a plate, with her help, and then returned to the table.
I smiled at him, awed with how natural he was with children. I had seen him so many over the years, even when he was Robin. He would be able to calm and help any child in distress by cracking a joke or just exuding the sheer will of everything being all right. And now, as an officer of the law, he came into contact with children victimized by domestic violence and tragedy. But right there, right then at my kitchen table, I saw the father he would someday be.
After a moment he looked up at me and grinned goofily, "What? Do have something on my face?"
Mattie raised a banana-mush covered finger and touched his cheek.
I laughed, "Now you do."
V
Now this was heaven.
It was two-thirty in the morning, well past the end of the second half of our anniversary. We were in bed, in that gleeful sleepiness that only comes after making love for fifteen minutes. For the third time in as many hours.
Bruce was sound asleep, facing me with his good hand entwined with mine. He had been the perfect gentleman throughout the entire day. Lunch had been in the den, in front of the fireplace and on a quilt spread over the carpet. From there, we retired to the entertainment den where the TV, stereo and DVD toys that all billionaires were required to have were housed. He sat through two James Bond movies with me and even offered to make popcorn. Not wanting charcoal kernels, I offered to help.
For dinner, we ate at the Ritz, sampled French champagne and ate light meals before heading to the Theatre District at half past eight. When Bruce had said he had gotten to tickets to every show in town, he had meant it. It took all afternoon to figure out which one I wanted to see. After some serious deliberation, I chose the left box seat of the Ambassador Theatre for the night's performance of "Chicago." Despite all the hype surrounding the film, I had never seen it or the musical. Everything else Bruce had tickets for had been running in Gotham a year or more and I had seen them all at least once.
During the intermission of the two and a half hour performance, Bruce bought us martinis and joked about him being Bond and I being the random love interest. He seemed to be enjoying himself and actually appeared to not even give a damn as several couples walked by, whispering to each other and trying not to be caught staring. Even with everything else going on, Gothamites still couldn't get over the fact that we were a couple.
As we made our way back to our seats, I snuggled up next to him and softly hummed the James Bond theme as I caressed his bow tie.
He laughed to himself until the lights dimmed.
Afterwards, we drove back to the Manor in a peaceful silence. When we arrived, Alfred had left a note on the credenza in the entry hall. He had gone to Leslie's for the evening and had also checked in with Barbara. Mattie was doing just fine and Dick would wrap up patrols for the evening. Nothing to worry about at all.
Bruce hung our coats up in the closet and glanced at his watch, "Only an hour left." He yawned theatrically and commented, "Well, I'm going to take a bath and then go to bed, good night," and pecked my cheek.
I hooked my arm around his, "Sounds good to me."
When we opened the door to our bedroom, the lights were off but it glowed warmly. Alfred must have just left, for there were well over a dozen candles freshly lit and strategically placed around the massive room. A cart, near the end of the bed, had been covered in white linen and on it was a tray of the chocolate covered strawberries from last night and a bottle of Merlot as it chilled in ice. I walked over and selected a strawberry and ate it. Chilled to perfection. Bruce disrobed his suit coat, tie and shoes and set them on a chair by the dresser before joining me.
"Good," he commented after having one himself.
"Beyond good. The best. Well chocolate covered pretzels are better, but not nearly as romantic."
He smiled and then headed for the bathroom, leaving the door open. I ate two more strawberries before investigating. He sat on the edge of the tub as it filled, his shirt gone as well as his socks. The bandages had also been removed to reveal angry red suture lines and mottled bruising over a good portion of his torso. I sat on the tub next to him and touched the water. Nice and hot. Whenever Bruce took a bath or even a shower it was usually tepid (read: freezing) but I wouldn't join him unless it was at least near boiling.
I selected a bottle of mild baby bath and poured it into the filling tub. It wouldn't aggravate his wounds too badly but it would still lather up for some fun bubbles. As he checked over his injuries, I returned to the main part of the bedroom, took the strawberry platter, the wine and the two glasses and returned to find him easing himself into the water.
"Look on the bright side, the hot water will sterilize your wounds," I grinned as I set the tray on the in-wall shelf beside the tub. I poured the wine as well and handed him the glasses to hold.
I then ran back out, shutting the lights off to his protest. I returned to the bathroom with four candles and set them on the corners of the enormous tub's lips. Bruce's face was shadowy in the dim light, but I still saw him smiling.
I let my dress slip from my body and I joined him in the tub, putting my back against his chest. I took my wine glass from him and we had a silent toast before drinking. After I was done, I let out a joyful "Ah" and refilled my glass. We soaked in the tub for nearly forty minutes, sipping cold wine and devouring the treats.
At exactly midnight, he leaned forward and nuzzled my neck, murmuring, "Happy anniversary."
"Happy anniversary, Bruce," I replied, allowing my head to roll back and allow him greater access. I grinned suddenly, "What do you say we get working on that baby brother."
He laughed loudly, kissed me behind my ears as his hands began to knead my shoulders.
"I'll get right on that ma'am."
And he did.
As I laid in bed next to him, feeling slumber's long-awaited arrival, I smiled as I mused to myself that next year, I would get him to expand our anniversary to three days.
V
"Babs, I hope you got that bed warmed up, I'm freezing," I stuttered over the comm. link. I had been expecting mild weather and had brought a lighter version of my Nightwing suit. Big mistake.
"You're not getting in my bed with ice feet."
I sighed, "Fine, then get the blow dryer ready."
I was three blocks away from the Clocktower. I scanned its visage to see it was nearing three-forty-five in the morning. A late night, but a good one. Not much activity outside of the general scum that plague any big city. No madmen, no gang wars, no riots or even major emergencies to help out with.
I still kept myself occupied enough so that I felt I did the job right. Having been in Batman's shoes for over a year had given me a higher standard of work. Just as I prepared to shoot a line to her balcony, I asked, "What do you think they're doing right now?"
"Aside from sleeping?"
"Who goes to bed before five in the morning?" I laughed and shot the line. Once I tested it, I swung out; twenty stories above the street below and thirty feet from my destination.
She laughed as well, "I think I know. And you do too, and we shouldn't talk about it. It's neither proper, nor civilized."
That was an Alfred quote if I ever heard one.
"What's that?" I asked innocently, despite the devious grin that formed on my lips.
Barbara laughed quietly with resignation, "Well, Dickie, when a man and a woman really love each other..."
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