Title: One And Only:
IV
Author: D C Luder
Summary: Set four years after the
conclusion of Life Is Good. The Family moves on and...
apart?
Rating: PG 13 for language
Infringements: All
recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.
Author's
Note: It is highly advisable that you read Time Will Tell and Life Is
Good or you may be a tad bit lost. I am writing this due to the
numerous requests for a sequel. That and I am absolutely obsessed
with the concept of the Bat and Cat living happily ever after.
A/N 2: Enormous shout out is necessary for Chris, who has made making fic funny even funnier than funny fic.
V
"If I may, I think it would be more suitable to leave him down here, Ms. Selina."
We had just unloaded the gurney from the medical van, Master Bruce's form slumbering almost too peacefully after an encounter with the Scarecrow. His wife stood opposite myself on the other side of the gurney, her bottom lip held hostage by her upper incisors. She had been looking down at him since the moment she had arrived, cutting short her night with Ms. Gordon. Dr. Thompkins had emphasized with her that his condition was hardly serious, that when the drugs wore off he would be good as his usual self.
"I want him upstairs," she finally replied.
Dr. Thompkins approached her, "Selina, we can monitor him better here, and it would be rather unfortunate if Mattie saw him like this---."
"Like what?" she turned and faced the older woman, "You just said he's fine, so there's no need to monitor anything. And if Mattie comes into our room, it would be just like any other morning when he's still sleeping."
I looked over at Dr. Thompkins and she shrugged before nodding. "I'll ready the elevator." Leaving them to watch over Master Bruce, I strode towards the stair well and then turned to the right towards a small pair of steel doors. After depressing a hidden button, I heard the soft hum of the electric car making its way back down from the first floor. It reached every floor of the house, but to enter the Cave, a special key had to be inserted as well as a numeric code. A necessary precaution, I thought to myself, trying to ignore images of Bane ripping apart the clock entrance years ago...
As soon as it arrived, the doors opened and I set them to hold until commanded otherwise. When I returned to the medical bay, Dr. Thompkins had removed the oxygen cannula and had already taken the IV fluid bag from its stand and set it beside his left arm. She nodded in my direction, "Ready when you are."
The trip up to the third floor bedroom was done in silence. I had Dr. Thompkins keep an eye on Miss Mattie while Ms. Selina and I situated Master Bruce in his bed. Between the two of us, we managed to move him fairly easily. Having dealt with countless accounts of him being indisposed over the years, it took only moment to retrieve a metal IV stand from his closet and to set his bag on it. After glancing at my watch, I noticed the time to be nearing two in the morning.
"Will there be anything else?"
She shook her head slowly as she sat beside him, still looking down at him with the same concerned look and lip biting.
As I stepped through the door, I watched out of the corner of my eye as she leaned over his body, arms snaking around his neck and I heard the beginnings of quiet sobs.
I took the gurney from the hall and pushed it back in the direction of the elevator. Dr. Thompkins was at the end of the hall, glancing into Miss Mattie's half-opened door. I paused beside her and looked in myself. Both of the felines that took up residence in the house were snuggled up close to the child on either side of her. A night chill had closed in and they were offering warmth to their favorite playmate. It wouldn't take long, however for Isis, she who takes joy from opening my kitchen cupboard doors, to sense that her owner had returned.
We walked away together and as I set the gurney in the elevator, she touched my arm. I turned and she nodded to the stairs. She knew I would resist, and would want to care for things in the Cave before settling for the night. We took the stairs at a languid pace, avoiding physical contact and speaking. Upon entering the kitchen, I switched over from caregiver to dutiful servant. Fetching the teakettle from the back burner, I filled it with fresh water and set it to boil.
When I turned to retrieve two cups and spoons, I noticed Dr. Thompkins had already done so. I interrupted her action, "Madam, if you would let me tend to that..."
She shook her head and set the cups and utensils on the counter, "Oh, simmer down Alfred."
While waiting for the whistle of steam, we sat at the kitchen nook table, sitting next to one another, sharing a minute of stillness. After a moment she reached for my hand and I gave it to her, "He was lucky." I nodded slightly and let her continue, "He can't be lucky every time."
"Truer words were never spoken, my dear."
For the next hour, we drank warm tea and shared each other's company. I offered to drive her home and instead she settled on spending the night. I lead her to the second floor where the guest rooms were and when I paused to open a door for her, she bypassed me altogether and proceeded to the door that lead to my quarters. As I turned to stare at her, she shrugged and let herself in.
"My heavens," I muttered, "No rest for the weary, indeed."
V
When I woke up, the first thing I did was look at my alarm clock. I stared for moment, and then said aloud, "Seven-oh-five." My alarm had not been set, Dad must have forgotten.
Thinking about him, I smiled as I slipped out of bed and put my slippers on. They were new ones, Tim gave them to me for starting school. I opened my door quietly, peered out into the hall and then stepped out. As I walked towards Mom and Dad's room, I passed the room I used to live in when I was a baby. Mom had everything in there just as it was when I was little, even my crib. She said someday, maybe, there might be another baby who might need to sleep there. Being the only child, I sure wouldn't mind someone else to play with.
Their door was shut and when I opened it and looked inside, I realized the lights were off too. After my eyes adjusted to the dark, I saw that Dad was still in bed, but Mom wasn't. When I stepped into the room, I saw the bathroom door was open and the light was on. I could even hear the shower running. Usually she never got up this early, must be she couldn't sleep in that morning.
Being as quiet as I could, I crept over and crawled onto the bed next to Dad. He was really asleep, not just pretending like he did sometimes. He was really good at pretending, but I could always tell. I tapped a finger on his shoulder and whispered, "Dad?"
He didn't move. I tapped harder and spoke louder, still nothing. Maybe he was sick, and that's why he was sleeping in. I put the palm of my hand on his forehead and smirked when I felt warmth. Hopping off of the bed, I told him, "Be right back, Dad, stay put."
I snuck into their bathroom and pulled out the step stool from the linen closet. After setting it up to the sink, I climbed up and opened the cabinet door. Behind a box of bandages, I found the thermometer and pulled it out. As I returned the stool, I heard Mom ask, "Mattie, is that you?"
I looked towards the foggy shower door, "Yes."
She paused, "What are you doing, honey?"
I finished putting the stool away and then answered, "Taking Dad's temperature."
"Um, why?"
I sighed, "Because he has a fever, Mom. I need to make him better."
Her hand slipped out of the shower, took a robe off the wall hook and then snuck back inside, "Okay, you go do that, I'll be right out."
When I got back onto the bed, Dad's head had tilted a bit on the pillow. I set the thermometer down on the bed and then pushed his head back over so it was straight. Then I took the thermometer, pressed the green button and said, "Say ahh."
He didn't. In fact, he didn't do anything. I pulled his mouth open, stuck the mouth part in and then shut it. Not too tight though, cause it could break. I counted aloud to five, listened to the beep and then took the thermometer back out.
Mom had walked out of the bathroom and was standing behind me, "What does it say?"
I looked at the numbers and read them to her, "One, oh, oh."
"That's not too bad. Why don't you get a wet washcloth for him, there's one on the rack in the bathroom."
"Okay," I pushed myself off of the bed and put the thermometer on the nightstand before heading to the bathroom. There was a dark blue washcloth on the bar next to the sink and I took it and reached up to the faucet to wet it. Mom had taught me how to do it when I had been sick last winter, and she told me that the cold washcloth made a warm head feel better.
When I got back to the bed, Mom was sitting next to him, pulling the blankets up higher on his chest. I crawled back up onto the bed, sat on her lap and gently set the cloth on Dad's brow. We watched him sleep for a moment before I leaned back against Mom, "Is he sick?"
She nodded as she put a hand on the back of my head, "Yeah, a bit. He needs his rest, but he'll be okay."
I chewed on my lower lip before asking, "Why is he sick?"
Mom tossled my hair slightly, "He hasn't been sleeping well, when he catches up on his sleep, he'll be good as new."
I reached out and touched his hand as it lay next to his side. Whenever I was sick, Dad was always there to take care of me. I guess it was my job to be right there to make sure he got better. After a pause, I looked up at Mom and stated, "I'm going to stay home, take care of him. Make him allll better."
Although she smiled, she said, "I don't think so. You have school, little missy. Actually, you better go get washed up and get dressed, I'm sure Alfred would be sad if you were late for breakfast."
In spite of making my best pout face, she pushed me off of her lap before standing and set me next to Dad. I sighed loudly and looked over at him, "No fair." I smiled when he moved slightly and to see if I could actually wake him, I leaned over and poked his shoulder. He moved a bit more and I noticed his eyelids blinking slowly. Without a thought, I climbed up onto him and sat on his chest, just as I did every morning. After bouncing a bit I asked, "Dad, are you awake?"
Finally, he opened his eyes halfway and stared at me, looking confused like I had asked him a weird question. I asked him again and he tried to reply, but his words came out mumbled and I couldn't understand him. I told him to lie still and that I would get him some medicine. He mumbled again just before closing his eyes.
"Mom!" I called out while returning to the bathroom.
She ran out, still in her robe, but with her wet hair down on her shoulders, "Quiet, Mattie, your father's still sleeping."
I shook my head and walked passed her, "No, he's awake, he needs medicine."
She shook her head as she stared over at the bed. I looked too and Dad was trying to sit up, but slipped and fell back down in the mattress. She turned back to me, "Sweetie, you really need to go get dressed okay, I'll make sure he gets his medicine."
"I want to help..."
"I know," she leaned over and kissed my forehead, "Tonight you can help Dad all you want, right now you have to get ready."
As she quickly brushed her hair and put it in a loose bun, I walked away slowly, dragging my feet on the carpet. When I passed the bed, I smiled when Dad asked, "Mattie?" He was laying back down, the blankets around his waist. He must have still been pretty tired because his eyes weren't open all of the way.
Even though Mom told me I had to get moving, I hopped over to the bed, "Morning Dad." When I got back onto the bed, I sat next to him instead of on him, then leaned over and hugged him. His left arm came up and limply rested over my back. When I sat up, I told him, "You're sick, Dad. Mom and I are taking care of you." As I smiled at him, I saw the washcloth I had gotten him had fallen off of his head. I reached for it but he moved to pick up the cloth too, but I said firmly, "I got it."
"Okay," he muttered. After I got my hand around it, I picked it up, folded it and then put it on his head. He thanked me and reached for my hand, "All right, Doctor, get to work."
"Hmm," I thought quietly, trying to remember the questions I was asked whenever I was sick, and when on came to me, I asked, "Can you breathe?"
Dad drew in a big breath and I watched as his chest expanded and fell, "Yes."
I already knew he had a fever, so I moved on to the next question, "Does your tummy hurt?" He shook his head, and I continued, "What hurts then?"
After a deep sigh, he said, "My head."
The one I forgot. I knew just how to cure it though. As I crawled up onto him, I did my best not to smile. "Hold still," I whispered. With my face mere inches from his, I leaned in the last bit and kissed his forehead. "All better."
Dad smiled and agreed, "All better."
V
At a quarter after seven, while sitting in a pair of blue plaid pants on the counter next to my sink, shoveling Fruit Loops into my mouth, I mumbled into the phone, "Hallo?"
"Dick, it's me."
I swallowed hard, nearly dropped my bowl and carefully slipped off of onto the floor, "Barbara, hi," I managed as a dollop of milk slipped out of the corner of my mouth.
"Bad time?"
After wiping the back of my hand across my face, "Nah, I was just getting up to go to work." I scooped the last spoonful up, ate it, then dumped the bowl into the sink. A few weeks earlier, Barbara had called me and wanted to start working on what had once been our relationship. This had been the fourteenth call we had shared in September, and with only three days left of the month, I wondered if it would be the last.
As I headed towards the bedroom, I asked, "So, what's up?"
"Nothing."
I paused, a smile already dominating my face, "So why did you call then?"
She took a sharp breath and then replied, "Bruce has new antitoxins for Scarecrow venom, several actually. Whenever you can, he said you could come pick them up. New inhalants, serums, the works."
Despite the fact that three weeks earlier, the man I held the most admiration for, the man who raised me, had been poisoned by Dr. Jonathan Crane and had subsequently been unconscious for nearly ten hours, I couldn't help but laugh. It was a long running joke that Bruce didn't accept matters when they went wrong. Hell, Bane had crippled him and instead of wasting away on the doctor ordered bed rest, he had gone around the world, rescuing my father and the kidnapped doctor that had been treating him. So after reliving a few of his worst memories via the Scarecrow toxins, he had been hunkered down in his laboratory tinkering with the antidote.
"Ah, he really does care about me," I managed after reducing my guffaws to giggles.
Barbara was doing her best not to share the moment of amusement, but I could still detect the lightness in her voice when she said, "Actually, he was going to send you some, but I think he wants to test it out on you."
After a moment, I stated, "Correct me if I'm wrong, Barbara, but don't you have to be poisoned first to test the effectiveness of an antidote?"
"That would be correct. Anyway, he wanted me to tell you, and I did."
While brushing lint off of my good black suit, I leered, "Oh, I bet you called for something else."
"Oh really?" she replied, far from being amused, "And what would that be?"
"You wanted to listen to me while I got dressed for work."
At that, she did laugh, "Honestly, Dick. If I wanted to hear or see you get dressed, I'd activate the bugs I have in your apartment."
It was difficult to decide whether she was pulling my leg or if she actually had the ability to see me pulling on my slacks. I told her I'd give her a show some other time, and that I really had to get going. She sighed, said to drop by with Chinese food when I came over to see Bruce.
After I agreed, I hung up and tossed the portable phone onto my unmade bed. In ten minutes, I was dressed, brushed, belted and on my way down the stairs of the apartment building. Taking my bike, the drive into work was fairly easy, with just the beginnings of morning commuters blocking my path to BPD. When I pulled into the parking lot reserved for officers, detectives and the like, I growled at the sight of a black Jeep Grand Cherokee in my spot. We weren't actually assigned spots, with exception to the higher ups of course, but we each generally parked the same way every day.
I found a space in the rear left, on the end of a long row of unmarked Cavaliers. I walked briskly back towards the building, checking my holster and then my hair as I moved. The very second I stepped into the Detective Wing, I heard a loud, "Hey, Dick, you see my new wheels?"
I located the origin of the voice and all negative feelings vanished. Sitting on the corner of his desk was Detective Sergeant Doug Roberts, a legend in Bludhaven and a failure in the deep-sea fishing of Atlantic. Having taken two weeks of vacation to attempt to catch "the big one", Roberts had returned back to us tan and cheerful, a rare commodity in these parts without the aide of UV beds and lithium.
Pausing before him, I set my hands on my hips in a move that had been drilled into my brain the very first day. It pulled back the front of my coat in order to reveal the leather holster as well as the badge that was clipped to my belt. Intimidating and showy, I simply did it out of habit. "That black thing? You finally give up on fishing, taking up on off-roading?"
He laughed and stood, reaching for my hand with his left. When I grasped it, he smiled, "Nah, nearly caught the big one this time, boy, sonofabitch must have been ten feet long. Ate the line, my pole, everything!"
Hardy came up from his desk and patted Roberts on his back in mock sympathy, "There there, Douglas, you'll get him next time."
I grinned, "That's right. Let him know you're a cop this time."
Roberts snickered, "And do what, show him my badge?"
A few of the straying detectives in the room drew in closer to join the early morning banter. Most of them, I recognized, were from Dugger's shift. The graveyard. I had done my best to stay in the day shifts, mostly because I didn't want to surrender Nightwing's activities for my paycheck.
As the "boys" started picking at Roberts' new haircut and dark tan, I heard the phone ring. I was about to walk over to answer it when I noticed Trey had appeared from nowhere, "I'll handle this one, Richie."
I shrugged, "Be my guest."
The detectives in Bludhaven lived by the phone. Calls came in, we answered, we responded. On a quiet shift, you could count on one hand how many times the phone rang. On a bad night, the ringing will echo in your ears for hours.
He did his best to sound knowledgeable and assertive to whoever was on the other line. He even stood still long enough to ask a few questions and to not fiddle with his tie. Maybe he could learn a thing or two. Just after he hung up, he looked at me, his face solemn but offering no clue as to what had come over the line.
"Well?" I asked. "Where are we headed?"
"Yeah," Layton called out, "Who's the vic, Kiddo?"
He sighed and then said, "Two dozen jelly doughnuts. Fell all over the floor over at Dozer's Donuts. Said to tell you, Layton, that it's going to be another half hour or so before they can send you your breakfast."
It took a few seconds for us to accept the humor and even longer for the laughs to die down. Mostly, we did our best to keep the macabre and pain of our work from sinking into our skin too deep. On my first year anniversary of surviving of homicide, my superior had given me a coffee mug with his favorite phrase on it.
Homicide. Where our day begins and yours ends.
Rough humor and off-colored jokes kept our spirits somewhat light. I secretly thought back to all of the childish mannerisms I laid out on Bruce when I was growing up, bringing my sophomoric behavior in order to counteract with his dark side.
As I sat at my desk, I let out a soft smile, while picturing Batman investigating a mass murder of jelly doughnuts.
And then the phone rang.
V
As my third call of the day, he answered after two rings, "Detective Grayson."
"Hi!" I said a little too loudly. I hadn't talked with anyone besides Barbara for weeks, and with newfound free time, I could finally catch up.
"Cassandra? Hey, how has it been?"
"Good, been busy. Real busy. I teach at the dojo."
He replied, "Yeah, Barbara told me. Raking in all those francs while beating up innocent folks."
"Not beating them up," I replied sternly, then I softened my voice, "Not really."
He laughed, "Whatever you say. So when are you coming home? Henri must be just about frustrated as all hell with you by now."
I was out on the terrace of the apartment, staring down as merchants were packing up their tables. There was a bad thunderstorm on the way and getting caught in it was not part of their agenda. When I looked up, I caught a faint flash of lightning over on the East Bank where a thick covering of black clouds was fast approaching.
Henri said it was going to be the biggest one, closing off the summer. And our time together. It had been phenomenal, working alongside such a gifted individual. He had superior methods of tracking, fighting and even killing. He was honored that he had the privilege of not only working with a protégé of the Batman, but also the daughter of David Cain.
And despite that I had taken an oath not to take another life, he did not pressure me as Batman had warned me. And in a little over two months, in exchange for weekly sparring matches, he had done everything in his power to teach me just as he had done years earlier with my mentor.
"Next week. Have to pack though."
"Right, I know how that is. Was anyone coming out to get you or were you flying back on your own?"
I smiled, thinking of my return home, "Alfred's coming to get me," I bit my lip before asking, "So, everyone okay?"
"Same as always. Mattie's loving school, she's got finger paintings taped up all over the fridge. I think she's even got a few saved for you. I bet she makes about five a day, then they cut her off so she doesn't use all of the paint."
My smile grew just thinking about her. I had spent a great deal of time with her for most of her life, and after being separated for months, I couldn't wait to get back to see her. She had sent me two letters since I left, both of which I kept safe in a small case that also held my Batgirl suit. In my time in Paris, I had donned it twice and had hardly ventured far from my temporary home. He had warned me against doing so, since in a foreign country, our work was not quite as accepted.
And the last thing I needed was to be caught snooping around the rooftops of Paris.
"Well, Cass, I hate to cut this short, but I have to get going. When you get back, I'm sure we can have a great big dinner, and although a bit premature, I already challenge you to a duel."
I laughed a bit, thinking back on countless meals where he, Tim and I did our best to out eat each other. In fact, two summers earlier, all three of us as well as Barbara, had gone out to dinner for her birthday. It had been one of the finest steak houses in Gotham City, and also one of the few in the state to offer an impressive ninety-six ounce steak. If ordered and completely devoured, the meal was on the house. Each of us had ordered it, excluding Barbara who went with a t-bone and a baked potato. And despite our efforts, none of us had completed the steaks, but I had been the one to be the closest with a whopping eight ounces remaining.
"You're on," I replied before saying good-bye and hanging up.
With one final look to the dark sky, I stepped back inside and shut the glass terrace doors behind me. I had one more call to make, and somehow, it seemed to be the hardest one. After taking a seat on the couch, I stared down at my cell phone and sighed. Then, I carefully dialed ten digits that I had long since memorized.
This time, it took four rings, "Hello?"
It took a long moment for me to reply, "Hi, Tim."
"Cass?"
I nodded as I spoke, "Yeah, it's me."
There were several voices in the background, mostly male and mostly laughing. I heard him tell them to quiet down and then, "Sorry, I'm up at the gym."
"I can call later---."
"No, no, it's no problem, I was just taking a break. So what's going on?"
I bit lip and stared down at my feet, "Nothing. Getting ready to come home.
"That's great, been pretty quiet around here. How's Henri? Was he a jerk to you?"
"No, he was nice. Sparred a lot," I began to tap my foot and I quickly settled it. I never liked being nervous. More so, I didn't like not being in control.
Tim spoke, "But you showed him a thing or two."
"I did. And likewise. Very smart man."
"And a very unpredictable man. Gave me the creeps when I was there, never knew if I could trust him or not. Especially after he showed me that knife trick..."
Although he had probably been terrified of the "knife trick" I had been amused. It was a simple throwing exercise where you spread your hand out on the table at dinner with your fork's handle under the palm of your hand, tongs pointing out beyond the fingers. And from his seat across from you, Henri could close his eyes and throw the knife at the fork and pin it to the table, the blade always perfectly between the middle pair of tongs.
After a week, I could do the same back to him.
Not wanting to gloat, I didn't tell Tim about that. Instead I told him I had to get going, and when he asked where I answered, "Have a class at the dojo."
"Right. Well, hey, call me when you get back, or before you leave."
"I will. Bye."
"Bye, Cass."
After hanging up, I put the phone on the arm of the couch. One more week and I would leave all of it behind to return to my life. Back to long nights of patrols and rough streets brimming with thugs and villains. Back home to my family.
I couldn't wait.
V
"Good night, kitten," I whispered as I leaned over and kissed her brow.
As I sat on the edge of her bed, looking down on her sleeping face, I heard Selina's footsteps as she walked through the door. She came up behind me and rested her arms on my shoulders while leaning down to kiss my cheek. Before pulling back, she whispered in my ear, "Coming?"
I nodded, pulled Mattie's blankets up again and then touched her hand gently before rising as carefully as possible. After shutting the lights off and half-closing the door, we walked to the bedroom in silence. She had changed from the slacks and blouse she had sported for most of the day to a pair of cotton shorts and a long-sleeved tee, both dark gray. I had showered after patrols and wore my cotton robe and slippers.
Being the second one into the room, I shut the door behind me before making my way across the room to the dresser. Selina plopped on her side of the bed and laid out on her stomach. Via the mirror, I watched as her reflection raised her lower legs up and bobbed them up and down slowly. As I pulled on a pair of flannel pants, she watched with a slight smirk on her face.
"So, are you actually going to do this zoo chaperone thing? Because I don't want you getting her hopes up and then crushing them just because 'something came up"."
I shook my head before walking over and slipping into bed, "No, she asked, I said yes, I'm doing it."
She rolled onto her back and got into bed as well, "All I'm saying is that I know how you are, Bruce. I can tolerate it, she can't."
"She won't," I offered her a look of sincerity before reaching over and shutting of the bedside lamp. When I reclined onto the bed, I glanced at the clock. Quarter of four. Not too bad considering I told her it would be an early night. With Batgirl's return within the next week, patrols would go even quicker, allowing for nearly the entire city to be checked on at some point in the night.
Selina moved closer, set her head on the corner of my pillow and rested an arm across my chest. When she was comfortable, she sighed before yawning. I reached over and draped an arm over her back and rubbed between her shoulder blades softly before whispering, "Good night."
"Ah, no pillow talk?"
I glanced over at her, my nose inches from hers, "Talk."
She sighed again and turned away from me, moving back to her own pillow. I knew she wasn't really mad, but she wanted me to think so. I gave her a few minutes of pouting before reaching over and pulling her back to me. Selina squirmed a bit, tried to elbow me but then took to giggling when she felt my lips on her ears, "Stop it."
I ignored her and replied, "If I remember this right, pillow talk follows something else that may or may not involve pillows. And may or may not involve talking."
She turned her head to show me the glare on her face and then pulled the covers towards her. My hand settled on her hip as the other traced the contours of her lower back. I planted another kiss on her neck and then another at her shoulder. Another kiss to her neck and I felt the tension fade as a soft giggle returned to her lips. When she turned to face me, Selina wrapped her arms about my neck and pulled herself tighter to me. I felt teeth graze my collarbone as sculpted nails traced the scapular ridges of my back. She pushed me onto my back and moved on top of me, shaking her head with an odd smile on her face.
We made love quickly, and almost in near silence. Even with Mattie four doors down the hall, Selina had been ever fearful of getting caught in a romantic moment and had been unable to comprehend why I didn't seem to be as paranoid as she. In Mattie's five years of life, there had been one close call. She had been three at the time and was having problems sleeping alone. Usually, after I came home from patrols, if there was going to be anything happening in that department, I would lock the door. I had no intentions of making love to my wife that night, however she had a different agenda. The door had not been locked, Mattie had walked in just after the climatic moment, and Selina had blamed it all on me.
Sheathed in a light sweat, I kissed Selina's brow before she moved off of me. As before, she took not only her pillows, but a portion of mine as well. Once situated, she looked over at me, the same smile on her lips. I smirked momentarily and then failed to suppress a yawn. "Ha, did I tire you out?"
"That and I have been awake for twenty hours."
She shrugged before yawning herself, "Sounds like a personal problem."
We chatted a bit more, her voice growing quieter and slower. She had been fairly busy of late while organizing and seeking out contractors for the reserve project. Most days, she was up before me, already on the computer or the phone, checking in on status reports and bids. Most nights, I put Mattie to bed while Selina sketched out facility designs and organized general feeding programs.
After three minutes of silence, I looked over at her and even in the darkness of the room, I noticed her lids had closed. She had fallen asleep on her side, facing me, with on hand on my side and the other laying next to mine. I traced her fingers with mine and was about to roll over onto my side to face her when her fingers twitched. Watching silently, I saw her fingers hook around my thumb, the pressure slight but present.
Although unintelligible, she muttered something and moved onto her back, her fingers still grasping mine. Instead of slipping them off, I gave her my hand and situated myself so that I was on my side.
She and I had not been on the best of terms since the incident with Crane. She, along with Alfred and Leslie, had been slowly dropping hints as to question how much longer I could physically do my work. I had no such inquiry and simply ignored their sly comments while going about my business. What had happened with the toxin had been an error in judgment, one that I rarely made. To make light of it and to ease Selina's worries, I had told her some of the minor visions the toxins had brought to my mind. The darker, disturbing ones, such as finding Jason's bloody corpse and having Bane shatter my spine, I obviously left to myself.
But the one where I had envisioned our daughter sitting on the teeter-totter, and then being catapulted into the air as a chubby fifth grader landed on the other end, that one seemed to be one of the safer ones to share.
V
Sorry about the wait, next chapter up shortly :)
