After dinner, we all went into the parlor to have drinks. My mother went straight for the bar and made a dry martini, her signature. Bruce joined her in drinking with a glass of brandy. I chose to do my usual club soda. Alfred joined us after clearing the table, and we all sat in silence for a moment.
"Do you still play the piano," Bruce asked me.
I took a sip of my drink and nodded, "Yeah, I do."
"Do you want to play?"
Looking over at the piano in the corner, I gave a small smile, "I would love to."
Getting up, I set my drink down on a side table, and moved over to the old piano. It was different than the one that used to be in this room. Martha's piano must have been lost in the fire. I sat down on the bench and ran my fingers over the cool keys. I took a deep breath, and began to play Mozart's Moonlight Sonata. From behind me, I could hear my mother give a deep sigh and she began to talk to Alfred.
"I just don't understand why she enjoys playing this silly instrument so much." She paused to take an audible sip from her drink, "In my opinion, it takes up too much of her time."
"Oh I'm going to have to disagree with you, there," Alfred said, "I remember the way Mrs Wayne used to play her piano… I've never been able to listen to piano music the same way again."
"It's just too passionate for young ladies to deal with."
"Now, that sounds like Mr Elwood's impressions, if I may be so bold to say."
My mother scoffed, "Mr Elwood would have Bethany sitting in a corner of the room reading books day in and day out until Bruce, or some other wealthy suitor, was ready to marry her."
"Well, Richard was a beast of his own," replied Bruce, "Do you know where he is?"
"Yes. He's in Bermuda with his new interest." My mother took another sip of her drink, "She's much younger than I am, and he's spending all of his money on her."
There was a pause in the conversation, then Bruce said, "Well, at least he'll be tan when she's finished using him."
My mother let out a laugh, "Oh, Bruce… stop it! You always were such a smart ass."
I finished playing my first piece, then moved on to another light movement by Mozart. My fingers were light on the keys as I played, and I tried to drown out their conversation, but my mother had other ideas, "Bethany, please. Play something else."
I stopped whatever it was I was playing, and tried again. Taking a moment to think, I decided on Toccata and Fugue in D Minor. The ominous sound coming from the piano made Bruce chuckle and my mother set down her drink forcefully. Getting up from the couch, she excused herself, saying that she was going to go to bed. Shen she left the room, I stopped playing, and turned around on the bench.
"Well, that was fun."
Bruce still had the ghost of a smile on his face as he watched me. I stood and took up my drink again, and he stood with me. Alfred excused himself from the room, and then we were alone. I took a drink of my soda as Bruce walked over to a stereo system and turned on some soft jazz music. I rolled my eyes as I moved to sit down, but Bruce caught me. Pulling me to him, he started dancing, and I followed along with him.
"I've missed you, Bethy."
I scoffed, "I'm sure."
He laughed as he said, "No, I really have. You were one of my best friends when we were younger…. We said some stupid things. I did stupid things. I've missed having my friend here."
I looked up at him and smiled, "I guess I've missed you too."
Bruce smiled. "You look beautiful."
I pulled away a bit and frowned, "Excuse me?"
"What I mean is, that you've grown up a bit since I last saw you." He moved me back in and continued to dance, "The last time I saw you, you were a freshman in high school."
I let him lead me in small steps and I replied, "Yeah… I guess you've grown up as well."
"In more ways than one."
"I hope you're talking about your maturity, and not your puberty."
Bruce smiled, "Of course. Why would I be talking about that?"
I laughed, "You don't seem to be the well-rounded adult you parade to be."
Bruce mocked pain, "And here I thought I was doing so well."
"So what are you really doing, Bruce? Surely you don't take immense joy in going to Wayne Tower every day and sitting in long boring meetings. Your father hated that."
"Oh, I do too. I go up to the offices every once in a while, to make sure everything is still running smoothly, and that the company moves in my interests. But for the most part, I spend my days living the life of a wealthy bachelor."
"And what does that look like?"
"Whatever I want it to."
I laughed and leaned in to rest my head on Bruce's shoulder. We continued to dance in a small circle in a parlor and it was nice. It had been a while since Bruce and I had spent time together, and it was a bit weird now that we were adults. We continued to dance and as a song changed, I looked up at Bruce really looked at him. He looked so much like his father. A fine sturdy jaw, beautiful eyes, framed by a dark hair, and admittedly, very beautiful. I looked into his eyes and gave him a smile.
He leaned in and I met him halfway and we kissed. We stopped dancing, and he moved his hands to my hair, holding me to him. I pressed my body to him as I kissed him back. I felt myself get lost in the kiss, but pulled away. Looking up at him, I took a step back and held him out at arm's length. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly before saying, "That… may have been a mistake."
"But a good one," Bruce said. He took my hands in his, "Bethy, I've-"
"Got to go to bed," I pulled away from him, moving to the parlor room, "We both, should go to bed." I left the room and went to the stairs.
"Bethy, wait-"
"It was a good mistake, Bruce. But it was still a mistake."
"Bethy, please. Let's just talk for a moment."
"It's too fast, Bruce. We're too raw. Let's just sleep on it, and get to know each other again before we rush into anything we'll both regret."
Turning away from him, I walked upstairs and entered my room. Getting ready for bed, I laid in my bed, and through about the kiss. With a sigh, I rolled over, and fell asleep.
The following morning I awoke in my bed and sat up. I curled my knees to my chest as I looked around the room, really taking it in for the first time since coming here. This room has been my room at Wayne Manor ever since my first visit at the age of four. It was a large room done in a light violet-grey with accents of white. The giant bed that I slept in was in a corner adorned with a white mesh canopy that draped down over the head of the bed. A vanity was set against the opposite wall inbetween the bathroom door and the French doors that lead out to the private terrace. Along the connecting wall was a large dresser and a wardrobe made of white wood. A large white run made to look like fur was placed in the middle of the room, pulling the white furninture together nicely. It looked like something out of a modern day princess story. Very beautiful, indeed. Getting out of bed, I stretched before walking over to the dresser to pick out my outfit for the day. Getting dressed, I quickly applied a bit of makeup and did my hair before I went downstairs.
Entering the dining room, I was greeted by my mother and Bruce sitting at the table, already eating. I had a plate set before my chair, and upon sitting down I couldn't help but giggle.
"Alfred couldn't help himself," said Bruce, "He's been aching to make those again."
Upon my plate was a very large pancake with two circles of eggs and a strip of bacon placed on it, making a face. I smiled as I looked at the childhood meal, and I found myself excited to eat it. Picking up my knife and fork, I cut into the cake, and found that it had blueberries in it. Taking a piece into my mouth, I all but moaned.
"My God, have I missed these!" I smiled, "He even remembered the blueberries."
"Alfred isn't one to forget," Bruce said, "He still makes chocolate chip pancakes for me sometimes."
I laughed, "How very rugged bachelor."
"It's a tight kept secret here."
I smiled at him and he smiled back. We turned back to our meals, when my mother said, "Well, well, well… one night here and the two of you are already back to normal. If I had known you two would click this fast, I would have called up the entire Gotham society letting them know."
I sighed, "Know what, Mother?"
"About the possible engagement, of course!"
I scoffed, "Slow your roll, mom. We just had a pleasant conversation about breakfast. Don't go picking out china just yet."
My mother gave a sly smile, "Very well. What do you two plan on doing today?"
"I was thinking Bruce could show me around the city," I said, taking a sip of my coffee, "I haven't been here in a long time, and I want to see the sights."
Bruce drank from his cup, and thought about it, "Yeah. That should be fine. I've got nothing to do today. I am at your beck and call."
"What are you going to do today, Mother?"
"I've made plans with the Jones's. We're going to have lunch together and then meet up for dinner later."
I nodded, "Tell James I said hello."
"I will do no such thing," my mother frowned at me, "Not after the way you embarrassed him."
"You embarrassed Jimmy Jones?" Bruce laughed.
"We dated for a year before I broke up with him," I said nonchalantly. "He kept trying to change me to be more acceptable to his family and their lifestyles. I finally said that I had had enough and left him. He tried to do the whole 'no one breaks up with a Jones' speech, but I just told him to watch, and I walked away."
Bruce nodded, "Well, serves him right."
I smiled at him, "Thank you."
"I laugh at any man who tries to mold you."
I stuck my tongue out at him and continued eating my breakfast. When we finished, Bruce and I bade my mother and Alfred goodbye and left for town. I sat in the passenger seat of the overly fancy sporty car that Bruce had chosen to drive for the day and watched as the city grew around us. Passing over a bridge, we were in the heart of her. I looked out of the window at the elevated public transport Thomas and Martha Wayne had commissioned for the city. Around it stood tall gleaming buildings. Bruce pulled up to a large building and got out of the car. Running around, he helped me out and gave his keys to a waiting valet boy. Taking my hand in his, he led me down the street.
"Where to first," he asked, "Shopping? a museum?"
"Oh a museum sounds lovely," I smiled, "Are there any art museums near?"
"Only the best."
I took my hand from his and followed him through the streets of Gotham to the entrance of a large museum. Entering the massive foyer, we were waived through by the desk clerk and we were allowed to walk through the exhibits.
"You don't have to pay to get in?" I asked.
"I make a generous donation every year to all of the museums in Gotham. It's my way of supporting the arts in our city."
I smiled, "That's wonderful, Bruce. Really."
We entered the first room which was a room of portraits. We were surrounded by faces done in stanch white and surrounded by lavish curtains. I picked one of a young American woman I had never heard of. She was framed in a beautiful small metal frame and painted on an oval canvas no bigger than a yard. She was a smaller example of art compared to the rest of the full-body paintings in the room. Getting my fill of her, I moved on to the next. Bruce moved with me, waiting for me to fully see each painting before moving on. When we reached the end of the room, we were given an opportunity to either continue through the regular exhibits of the museum, or go to a special exhibit featuring the illustrations of Charles Allan Gilbert.
"Oh let's go!" I said.
"You've heard of him?"
"Yes! His work is haunting. Please let's go."
"Whatever you want."
I smiled and walked into the exhibit with him following me. The hall was draped in black, which was fitting for the artist's work. I looked around at the maze of illustrations and decided to start on the right and work my way around. Bruce lingered at each illustration with me, looking at the illustrations without interest. I studied each one, letting my eyes drink them in. We made it to "The Pianist" and Bruce started to lag behind. I moved on ahead leaving him a few frames behind, when I finally reached "All is Vanity." A man was already there looking at perhaps the artist's most famous piece. I smiled at him as I took my place a few feet from the illustration and turned my attention to it. I looked at the stunning illusion piece of a woman sitting in front of a vanity with a candle that illuminated the area around her reflecting her face in the mirror across from her. The effect gave the painting a look of a skull.
"Are you familiar with the artist?"
I turned away from the piece in front of me and turned to the speaker, a man with dark hair over a pair of stunning blue eyes. He wore half-framed glasses and a nice suite. I smiled at him and replied, "Yes I am. His work is great."
"Is this your favorite?"
"Um no, actually, "Standing Girl" is my favorite."
He nodded, "It's further down."
My smile brightened, "Really?"
"Yes, come." He gestured down the wall with his head and led me to the canvas containing a woman whose outfit was done in white pastel.
"Oh she's beautiful," I said, "Thank you."
"No problem," he said, "I'm glad to find someone who enjoys Gilbert's work."
I nodded, "He's seriously underappreciated."
"I'm Doctor Jonathan Crane."
I smiled and shook his outstretched hand, "I'm Bethany Elwood."
"Not to sound like I'm using a line, but do you come here often?"
I gave a small laugh, "No, actually. This is my first time here."
"Really?"
"I'm not from here."
"Oh, where are you from?"
"I'm living in England at the moment."
He gave a shocked look and asked, "What brings you to Gotham?"
"I'm visiting a family friend for the summer with my mother."
"And you're spending that time here alone?"
"Um no, actually…." I turned and gestured to Bruce who was still a few frames behind, "I'm actually with him now."
"Your family friend is Bruce Wayne?"
I nodded, "Yes, since a young age."
"Well, you have some very important friends."
"He likes to think so."
Jonathan gave a small laugh, "Not so fond of him?"
"I am, we just… have had a rough few years."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
I shrugged, "It's okay. We're getting over it. It was a bunch of petty stuff."
"Doctor Crane," Bruce came up behind me and placed his arm around my waist, "What are you doing here?"
"I can't enjoy artwork?"
"Shouldn't you be at work?"
"I can have days off from Arkham, Mr Wayne."
"You work at Arkham," I asked.
"I'm a psychologist."
"Well, if you'll excuse us, Doctor Crane, we're going to move on from this exhibit." Bruce pulled on my waist leading me away from the doctor.
"It was nice meeting you, Miss Elwood."
"And you too, Doctor."
Bruce didn't say anything as he led me out of the room. As we exited the room, he pulled me down another corridor to a different part of the museum. I pulled myself away and asked, "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Why were you talking to that man?"
"We were talking about art!"
"Well, he's not a good man."
"What do you mean?"
"He's just… not a good man. He's troubled."
I scoffed, "I need more than that, Bruce."
"He's a crooked man, Bethy… he's done some terrible things … in the criminal system. He's helped a lot of crooked thugs stay out of jail."
"That's awful."
"Which is why you shouldn't talk to him."
I frowned, "I don't need you to protect me, Bruce. I could have figured out he was complete shit on my own."
"Why waste the time?"
"Because that happens in life sometime."
"Look, you've been out of this city for a while, you don't know it like I know it."
Over Bruce's shoulder, I saw Doctor Crane leaving the Gilbert exhibit. He caught my eye and nodded goodbye to me, holding up a white business card. I watched as he held my gaze moving to the entrance clerk. He handed her the card, and gestured to me. Giving me a wave, he left the building.
"I don't want to argue," I said, "Just, let me get to know the city again, but let me do it my way. If I waste my time, so be it." Bruce gave me a frown and I added, "I mean, if I'm about to go in a dangerous part of town, obviously stop me, but other than that, let me do me. Please?"
Bruce thought about it, and signed, "Fine."
"Do you want to leave? You kind of… ruined the mood."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be, it's whatever."
We made our way to the entrance where I stopped at the counter under the guise of grabbing an information pamphlet. The clerk slipped me the business card that Doctor Crane left me, and I rejoined Bruce in leaving the building.
