Disclaimer: I am not making any money out of this and copyright infringement is not intended.
Author's Note: I have to inform you, dear readers, that this story may be longer than my last one. As of the moment, I am working on the fifteenth chapter and the story is, more or less, seventy-five percent complete. I will try my very best to update on a weekly basis. (Provided my almost two-year old daughter leaves me alone : ).
Chapter Two
The Phantom of the Opera
What have I done?
It took almost one whole day to finally realize the agonizing impact of what he did the other night. He was just about to leave for his nightly routine when the earth shattering force of realization hit him full on the chest that he had to sit down.
What was I thinking?
Or, the question was, was he even thinking?
Are years of chasing down criminals and nut jobs finally making him non compos mentis?
His silent inquiry was lost on the wide, stoic face of the computer screen where moving images blankly stared back at him, as the chair complained in a faint squeak every time he shifted his weight. He was, for the first time his mind could ever recall, fidgeting…in his bat costume.
Busy fingers tapped on the console, his eyes fixed on the screen, monitoring the events from outside. He knew he should already be out there, patrolling. But his mind kept drifting, as if in an endless rewind mode, to the memory of what happened that night. And in this…distracted state, he could not risk going out.
He sighed. It was a defeated sigh. A sigh that told him there was nothing left but to do what was needed to be done. Face the facts.
He consciously looked around him like a kid about to stick his hand into the cookie jar, making a careful inspection of the damp, not to mention stinking of bat excrements, and dark cave. And his observation told him that the coast was clear. He had the privacy he wanted, all the privacy he needed.
With another sigh that was more of a grunt in itself, he gave in as his somewhat nervous gloved fingers punched a series of digits to open a hidden and protected, top-secret file. After entering another series of characters that made up the password, a few seconds passed before a small picture appeared on the lower right hand corner of the wide screen.
It was a headshot of a raven-haired, blue-eyed, very beautiful female. In the picture, taken a few months after her arrival in Man's world, she was half smiling at a particular lame joke by Wally when a hidden camera captured the moment.
It was the face of beguiling innocence mirrored in the striking blue eyes. Her face…it was the image that he had, somehow, unconsciously managed to ingrain in the deepest corners of his mind.
Lost…in the blue depths of her enchanting eyes.
If beauty had a name, it would be…
Diana.
If circumstances were totally different, if he did not feel this overwhelming responsibility for his city, his people, if he could only afford to…
A few feet away an older and distinguished looking man stood, observing the younger with an amount of surprise that his presence was not yet noticed. It usually took several seconds before his name was addressed even with the broad back turned away and the eyes focused on the task at hand. Looking at the monitor, the other man's face registered a faint expression of amusement. His charge's attention was focused true enough, the eyes fixated on a particular image of a young lady in front of him.
Alfred knew of the women Bruce dated, even the few who were special, in a certain way. But he could not recall an instance like this where Bruce would, as he often put it himself as a waste of time, sit and stare at a picture like an adolescent male with a huge crush on the girl next door. And the image of Bruce acting like a normal, red-blooded male that was not done to assume his other persona was simply…refreshing.
His heart somehow ached for the son he came to see in the young man. If only things were dissimilar, if only Bruce's heart was not filled with revenge, if only that night years ago never happened…he could have had the chance to live a normal life.
But there was no use in thinking along those lines. Bruce was destined for something greater than heading a multi-billion dollar enterprise. He was destined to be a hero.
And he just wished, like a father's wish for a son, that somewhere along this sacrifice laden path, there would be someone waiting at the end of the day to welcome Bruce with open arms, someone who could show him that not all in this world was injustice, someone who could and would love him, and someone he would love just as much.
And when she arrived, Alfred knew there was still hope. Hope for this stubborn young man.
With a rueful smile, he looked at his watch and gave his charge a moment before making his presence felt.
Then he cleared his throat. "Master Bruce…"
Moving like Wally, he was able to close the file in a few seconds. "Alfred." He acknowledged the older man's presence, turning the chair to face him.
"Are you having dinner before you go out on patrol, sir?"
"No…I'll just grab a take-out when I get hungry." He lied. He had no plans of going out tonight.
Alfred held out his right hand that toted a small brown bag. "Just preparing for contingencies."
"Thank you." The aroma emanating from the paper bag was seducing his sense of smell. Whatever Alfred had prepared certainly beat take out junk food.
"Always glad to be of service." The butler smiled before politely turning to give him privacy.
As he watched Alfred's proud back slowly retreat from where he sat, he realized how fortunate he was to have the old man always by his side. Alfred had been more than a butler, he had been a trusted friend, and a…father.
If he wanted someone to talk to…it would be Alfred.
"Alfred?"
Alfred turned. "Yes, Master Bruce?"
He needed someone to listen, to understand when he could not understand himself. "You won't believe what I did last night."
Alfred walked closer. "Try me."
For a moment, he seemed hesitant. Maybe this was not a good idea after all. He looked down in quiet contemplation, staring absentmindedly at the butler's immaculately shined shoes.
Alfred tried clearing his throat again. The effort was getting uncomfortable.
"I sang." He almost choked out the words.
"Pardon me, sir…what was that again?"
He looked up at Alfred. "I sang."
The corners of the butler's lips turned upwards to reveal a grin. "The lure of the karaoke finally entraps the great Bruce Wayne. I can see the headlines already. Billionaire Playboy Sings the Blues."
How any more accurate could Alfred get? "It's not a karaoke bar. More like an amphitheater."
"Oh! How ambitious, sir." Alfred suddenly looked doubtful. "Master Bruce…is this an attempt to recover the sense of humor you have lost somewhere while swinging from one building to another?"
He smirked. "I'm not kidding Alfred. I sang…as Batman."
Alfred's eyes widened then frowned. "Isn't it a bit too late for Halloween? Or does the league usually celebrate it late? I am certain that you are all very busy at that time of the year. Unlike Christmas, of course…when even villains seem to take time off…"
"Can I continue?"
There was a very obvious sign of hidden amusement in the butler's face. "Oh…forgive me. Yes you may."
He was about to open his mouth to speak.
"It's just that you…singing in full, battle gear, is very like the solar and lunar eclipse happening," Alfred paused for emphasis. "…at the same time."
He continued, despite Alfred's disbelief. "I had to do it to…help a teammate."
"Finally ran out of batarangs, sir?" Alfred could not resist amusing himself. "Well…that would be a first."
"And hopefully…the last," he turned to switch the monitor off.
Alfred remembered what he saw earlier, Bruce staring at a familiar face displayed on the screen, and was able to put the pieces together. "And what did…Miss Diana say about it?"
He shrugged. "I don't think she…how did you know I did it for her?"
There was a confident smirk on the old man's face. "You're not the only brains in the operation, Master Bruce. Besides…you've been staring at her picture for a full minute before you even knew I was here."
"She's just a friend." It was said too quickly.
"If you say so."
"I value our friendship," he added.
"You don't have to convince me of that, sir."
It was hard not to notice the amusement that was still evident on the butler's face. "What is it Alfred?"
"Pardon me sir?"
"The expression in your face."
Alfred raised a brow. "What expression?"
"Alfred…"
The older man took a deep breath. "Well, sir. Let me put it this way…" He needed the right words to get through to this stubborn man. "You…have this tendency to look more on the disadvantages, rather than the brighter side of…things."
"Meaning?"
"You've probably listed down the reasons why you can't pursue a relationship with the princess." Alfred shifted his weight on one foot to the other. "First…she's not like any other woman you have known and that scares you because she might actually turn out to be the one. Secondly, she's physically more powerful than you, and it's a fact that she'll outlive you even if you have ten lifetimes and that makes you jealous because we also know a man with almost the same qualities and you don't like someone making you jealous. Third, she has a mother, not to mention a number of aunts, who'll have your head, literally, when you break her heart."
Alfred was certainly up to date. He leaned on the chair and was about to categorically deny the butler's observations. Unfortunately, Alfred had more things to say.
"But then again, she's also a remarkable woman…" Alfred's face lit up in remembrance. "She radiates light with her presence and can light up a dark room with just a tiny smile. Though, she may have had a prior prejudiced view of all men before, that all men are…dicks, pardon my French, because she's an Amazon. But, other than that, she has a pure heart." Another pause for emphasis. "And no criminal records, whatsoever."
He could not help another smirk from appearing on his face that was half concealed by the dark mask. "You seem to have given this some thought."
"Not more than you have, sir. Besides, it's not everyday that someone like her comes along. I can only hope the best for you. I can hope, can't I?"
Then the smile soon was replaced by utter seriousness. "Master Bruce, you've been taking risks with your life everyday, every night. Why not…take a risk with your heart? Tell her that you…like her, not just as a friend. But in a way a man…"
"Wants to make babies with a woman?"
"Tell her that and you'll find yourself a temporary resident of the intensive care unit."
"Or permanently residing six feet underground," he added.
A wide smile again appeared on Alfred's gentle face. "She made you sing, she is making you crack jokes in full costume. Without even trying."
He stared blankly at the black screen, remembering where her face was minutes ago. A vague reflection of his masked face looked back at him. "You're so very sure I like her."
"I can't see you dancing the Macarena for Master Kent."
That'll be the day. "If that time ever comes, put a bullet in me."
Alfred made a mental picture. It was too eerie that he had to shake his head to get the image off. "Seriously, Master Bruce…what are your plans?"
"Plans?"
"I assume, with that talented mind of yours, that somehow…you have planned something." Alfred leaned in a little. "Though I highly doubt if you have the courage to act out on any of those plans."
"Alfred…these things take time."
"How more time do you need, Master Bruce?" Alfred sounded exasperated. "One, two or maybe…four years? When you start growing white hair? Next thing you know, you're not growing white hair anymore because you're losing them at an alarming rate. And you can't open a door for her anymore because of arthritis."
"I think that's you you're talking about."
"Well…yes," Alfred admitted. "But you won't be any different if you continue on this path, sir."
He seemed to have acquired the habit of sighing audibly this evening when another escaped from him.
"I won't be around forever, Master Bruce."
He looked up at the other man. It was a sad thought. "I know."
"I could rest in peace if I know…someone will take care of you."
"I could always hire another---"
"I sincerely doubt that someone else could put up with you."
"Alfred…your faith in me is very…touching."
The butler looked at him suspiciously. "Don't forget for one second that I know you're subtly diverting the topic."
Alfred could be so very stubborn. "Very well."
"Very well what, sir?"
"I'll give it some thought."
"For the love of everything sacred! I think you've given it a lot of bloody thought already, sir." Alfred complained, casting his eyes heavenward. "Do I have to dial the phone for you?"
"Phone calls can be traced."
It was Alfred's turn to sigh. "Well then…talk to her in that high tech piece of something you place in your ear."
He was about to stand up.
Alfred crossed his arms on his chest. "Now would be a good time, Master Bruce."
