HERE'S TO YOU JOE
CHAPTER 2 - NOSTALGIC
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything in this fiction, DC owns it all
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is set between B:TAS and Batman Beyond, so Bruce is about 50 something. A lot of this story will be about reflection. Oh and it fiddles around with continuity stuff as well, whilst also borrowing a bit of inspiration from "Batman: The Dark Knight Returns". DON'T FORGET TO SEND YOUR REVIEWS, I live for reviews, I especially love detailed, analytical reviews, be sure to tell me all about exactly what you did or didn't like about the fic.
Kyle's, quite a place really. Old fashion architecture, industrial gothic, buildings like this were all over the place when Bruce was a boy. Kyle's was a survivor, the majority of vintage Gotham architecture had either fallen prey to rapid urban renewal or simply fallen into decay. Selina had the place completely restored, opened it as a burlesque theatre house. Drinks and dancing girls mostly, nothing really "explicit" or "dirty" just sought of "naughty", rather characteristic of it's owner. Right on the outskirts of the East End, it's nostalgic charm proved a real hit with the high rollers, they flocked to the place. They'd drill through round after round of liquor, watch beautiful girls prance along stage in playful outfits, and drop huge tips. Bruce wasn't here for the liquor, not yet anyway, and he wasn't here for the dancing girls, he was here to see the hostess. The place didn't open for around another six hours, the bar staff were rincing shot glasses and restocking shelves, a troupe of showgirls were busy running through rehersals on stage. Each girl clad in provocative cat themed costumes, tiger-stripes, leopard spots, whiskers, ears, tails.
"Excuse me sir, but Kyle's doesn't open till six pm, so until then would you mind...".
A smooth, sweet young voice, interrupted Bruce's train of thought. He turned to see a beautiful young barmaid approach his side.
"...oh, Mr. Wayne it's you..."
A gleeful smile spread across the young woman's smooth face.
"Good afternoon Kiki".
Bruce smiled back at her through tired eyes.
"HEY GIRLS, BRUCE WAYNE IS BACK!".
Kiki called to the showgirls rehersing on stage. Upon which each of them yelped, bounced off the stage and swiftly bounded toward him, soon Bruce Wayne was tightly surrounded by a small army of beautiful young women in feline get-ups.
"Mr Wayne, are you staying for our show?".
"We've been practising all week".
"Want to watch the rehersals?".
"Ladies, please".
He chuckled, lightly.
"I'm really too old for this sort of excitement".
"Bruce!...your'e late".
A sultry voice, lightly instilled with a huskiness of age, was heard from the staircase opposite the bar. Bruce and each of the ten or so girls surrounding him, turned in it's direction. Descending the staircase was a woman, around her mid 50's, donned in a form fitting black dress, cut off just below her knees, with the sleeves extending all the way to her palms, and the highest of neck lines. Drawing attention to her still firm, sculpted, panther-like figure whilst simultaneously hiding any wrinkled flesh, she always knew the best ways of excentuating herself.
"...Selina".
The weary old man smiled.
"Shoo kittens, that's MY ball of yarn your'e pawing at, we open in six hours no time to waste harrassing poor old Mr.Wayne".
The beautiful old woman scolded her young proteges'. Each of them pouted in dissapointment and slowly sulked away.
"That's some genuine authoritive power you've got their old woman, I'm impressed".
Bruce spoke with a wry smile, reserved for her and her alone.
"Yes, I finally followed your example and got me some youthful sidekicks?".
"...Sidekicks?".
"Yes, originally I had the idea to train them".
"Train them?".
"You know what I mean, rob Gotham blind, drive you crazy, that sort of jazz, but sappy old me I love those girls like they were my own, couldn't stand the thought of them winding up in the slammer, so now they're a burlesque dance troupe, telling my life story on stage".
"A missed opportunity?".
"Hardly, most of the highrollers who come in here, they leave with empty wallets, business is booming".
She moved in close to him and slid her palms in under his jacket, only to hastily withdraw them, a confused cringe on her face. Sniffing her fingertips was more than enough to deduce why his shirt was so moist and musky.
"You walked again didn't you?".
"...correct".
"...why, it's hotter than hell outside Bruce, all that way in heat like this, and with that busted leg, you would've saved yourself a lot of unnecessary pain by just driving".
The old man lowered his head slightly, breaking eye contact with the old woman.
"The pain IS necessary, that's why they call it penance".
He muttered meekly. Selina gave off a deep sigh, turning to gaze into nothingness.
"The perspiration's dried up as musk I'll bet your a mess under that fine suit and you smell it too, you'd best head up to the penthouse, take a shower, get cleaned up, I'll be along in a minute".
And with that, Bruce Wayne turned and slowly ascended the staircase. Selina just stood in silence for a few minutes before lighting a cigarette. Exhaling in smooth whisps, she sighed to herself under her breath.
"...poor little boy".
END OF CHAPTER 2.
Well I hope you enjoyed that, because there's more to follow.
FAMAS