Hi everyone! As always, thank you guys so much for reading and reviewing! Here is the newest chapter. Hope you enjoy it!

UPDATE 06/17/15 Sorry for the delay everyone! I meant to post the next chapter before my travels... Now I'm back at work and then more traveling (it's wedding season after all). I am planning on posting Chapter 23 beginning of August. Sorry it's taking so long. I already started writing it and have plenty of ideas so stay tuned. :) Happy summer everyone!


Peter was in the control room. He had been in this industry for 19 years, but he had never seen anything like this. He was worried for his reporter, who was sitting in front of a maniac, being mentally tortured by him.

He had sent a helicopter to Wayne's apartment, but they hadn't seen any activity in quite some time.

"There." One of the technical assistants said, pointing at the screen. "It's Bruce Wayne, he's standing at the window."

"Zoom in on him." Peter said.

Wayne was standing there, looking concerned as he was talking on the phone.

And then suddenly he dropped the phone, holding his chest as he moved backwards just a bit.

"What just happened?" The assistant asked.

Peter knew exactly what had happened.
"God help us all." He said quietly. "Zoom out!" He yelled to the helicopter operator. "We don't need to see how Bruce Wayne dies on live television."

Silence in the control room as the camera was zooming out and red blood started to stain the billionaire's shirt.

"Can he still survive this?" Someone asked into the eerie silence as the camera was almost all the way zoomed out.
In that moment another bullet hit Wayne and he went down.

Peter swallowed hard. "Tell Dan to say something on the air. All we know for sure is that he's been shot twice. In the chest and the abdomen. We don't know anything else."

His mouth felt dry as he was wiping cold sweat from his forehead.

"And whatever you do, do not tell Cat. I don't want her to find out while sitting in Arkham. Understood?"


"How are you holding up?" Peter asked me over my IFB.

"Fine, any news on the DA or Bruce?" I asked quietly.

"Nothing at the moment." Peter responded. "Don't worry."

The Joker was laughing.

"What now?" I asked him, not able to stand his voice any longer.

"Is he telling you that everything is ok? Huh? That you don't need to worry."

I just stared at him, not sure what he had planned now.

"They tell you whatever you want to hear at this point so you don't panic. So you don't lose your mind on national television. Because that wouldn't be according to their plan. What do you feel in your heart? Is he still alive? Or did he just die? If you listen closely you can hear his last breath leave his lungs in his multi-million dollar penthouse. All alone, dying of a gunshot wound just like his parents."

"Shut up!" I yelled, as I felt silent tears stream down my face.

He grinned at me and inhaled deeply. "Ahhh! That is the stuff. Horror in its purest form."

"Tell me he is wrong." I demanded to Peter over the IFB.

Nothing on the other end. I felt dizzy.

"He is wrong. Bruce is fine." Peter responded.

I sat down again.

"You're wrong. He's fine."

"What do you believe in your heart of hearts?" The Joker asked me. "Do you think he's fine?"

"You failed to kill him before."

"True. Very unfortunate. That was all thanks to our little Bat, though. Tonight, he decided to protect someone else."

"He is saving them both." I said, trying to convince myself of that.

"Really? Then why haven't you heard from him yet? You've been staring at your phone for minutes."

The panic in me was spreading like wild fire. It couldn't be.

"Do you know what it sounds like when someone dies?" The Joker asked, his black eyes glistening.

I felt my head pounding, my throat raspy.

"It's a peaceful sound, that last breath. Do you feel guilty that you spent his last moments with me instead of side by side with him? Do you feel guilty that you couldn't comfort him in his last moments? Tell him one last time that you loved him?"

Tears were running down my face. Tears that I wasn't even aware of leaving my eyes. I felt numb and distant. As if my body went into a self protective mode, distancing myself from this reality.


"Alfred," he said out of breath, reaching for the phone. "Send Wright's location to Gordon."

"Sir, I'm calling an ambulance." Alfred said worried.

"There's no need for that." He said in short breaths. "I'm sure half of Gotham already did that."

"I'm coming over now."

"No, stay with the DA. I'm fine."

"Sir, you were shot." Alfred's voice was concerned.

"Yeah, good thing I was wearing a bullet proof vest."

"But the blood…?

"Theatricalities and deception are powerful agents."

"I swear to God, if you use that sentence one more time…"

"Sorry, Alfred. I didn't mean to upset you. I had no time to fill you in. Any word from Gordon? Did they catch Wright?"

"Yes they did sir."

"Good."

He grabbed the phone and dialed her number.


My ears were ringing, all I could hear was my own, shallow breath. In that moment my phone was vibrating in my hands. The caller ID said Bruce. I was scared to pick up the phone. What if it was a doctor in a hospital, notifying me that he had died? Was I ready to take that call right now?

Like in a trance, I picked up the phone, slowly bringing it to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked in a weak voice.

"It's me." Bruce said, his voice sounded in pain.

Hearing his voice was surreal. Was this really his voice? Was I imagining it? "Are you…are you ok?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine."

"It's nothing. I got shot…"

"What? Are you in a hospital? Are they taking care of you?"

"You didn't let me finish. They shot me but I was wearing a bullet proof vest. All I have is some bad bruises. I had no idea how much it still hurts."

I smiled, closing my eyes in relief.


He hung up the phone as his door was opened and paramedics came rushing in.

"Mr. Wayne, how are you feeling?" The young paramedic asked him, kneeling next to him.

"I'm fine. It's not real. I'm wearing a bullet proof vest." He said slowly getting up.

The paramedics looked at each other surprised.

"Could you take off your shirt, sir? We still need to take a look at you."

"Sure." He said opening his tie and then taking off his shirt, every movement hurt. When he took off the vest and the fake blood pouches he had attached, big, dark purple bruises were visible on his chest and abdomen.
The paramedic carefully looked at the bruises.

"We should get you to a hospital, make sure you have no internal bleeding."

"Thank you but that won't be necessary." He said as he put the shirt back on. "Thank you all so much for your time, gentlemen."


"Alive? I'm surprised." The Joker said, still smiling.

"Wipe that ugly smile off your face, Joker. You lost."

"Lost? Haha! All I needed was a dose of pure horror on your face. And I got more than enough. And whenever you think back to the good old times with your friend Jacob, I will be there in your memory. I will always be a part of you."

I ripped the microphone off and headed out as fast as I could. The Joker's hysterical laughter was following me through the hallway.

I was breathing faster and faster, feeling there wasn't enough air to fill my lungs quick enough. My whole body was covered in goose bumps, I was hot and cold.

Let this be a nightmare and I'm about to wake up from it.

But I knew it wasn't a nightmare. I knew this was reality. Jacob had really died and I was the reason. I grabbed the handle of the door, hearing the buzzing noise of the lock as I pulled it open. I was standing in the room, waiting for the next door to open. The door behind me slowly closed and swallowed the clown's laughter with it. I was thankful for it but the silence that followed didn't put me at peace either. I felt like I could hear my own thoughts. Finally the other door opened. Dr Baxter looked at me concerned.

"Are you ok?" She asked me.

"Yes. I just need to get out of here."

"Absolutely. Follow me."

The way out seemed so much longer than the way in had. I was trying to hold composure for a little longer. For now, I needed to get out of here more than anything. I felt like I was suffocating.

"We're almost there." She said, looking at me concerned.

We reached the ground floor and I couldn't wait to get out into fresh air. But as we were walking down the hallway, I realized I wouldn't be able to hold myself together any longer.

"Excuse me, is there a bathroom I could use?" I asked quietly.

"Yes, down the hallway on your left."

I could feel my throat closing. I quickly made my way to the bathroom, grabbing the cool handle and pushing the door open. Once I closed it behind me, I felt myself fall apart. I ran to the toilet and threw up, shaking uncontrollably, hot, silent tears streaming down my face. I washed my face, hoping to calm myself down but the cold water did very little against the images in my head that were playing on repeat.


He went to Arkham as fast as he could. Running inside, he asked the receptionist for Baxter.

"Let me see where she is." She said as she dialed her number.

The door opened and the cool blonde was standing in the entrance.

"Mr Wayne, glad to see you're alive and well."

"Where is she?" He asked worried, not wasting a second.

"Follow me."

They walked down the hallway.

"She's in the bathroom." She said and the concerned look on her face confirmed his worries.

"How long has she been in there?"

"Twenty minutes."

He quickly walked up to the door, knocking slightly.

"Cat?"

No answer.

He opened the door and what he saw broke his heart. She was sitting on the floor, her knees pulled towards her. Her face was pale, her eyes glazed over.

He closed the door behind him, kneeling next to her.

"Hey." He said softly, stroking her face.

She looked at him with empty eyes. "You're ok." She whispered.

"Yes, we're both ok."

She nodded.

He took off his jacket, placing it around her shoulders. She hardly seemed to notice.

"Sam is worried about you." He said, hoping the mention of her name would break her out of her trance-like state.

"Thank God she is ok." She said staring straight ahead.

"Come on, let's get you out of here."

"It's my fault." She suddenly said, her eyes looking at him in pain.

"No, it's not."

"If Jacob..." she paused at the mention of his name. "If he hadn't been friends with me, he would still be alive. It's because of me that he isn't and I'm the reason you and Sam were in danger too."

"Listen to me, none of this is your fault. It's the Joker's fault and his alone." He held her arms, hoping his words would reach her. But he knew the guilt all too well and he also knew there was little he could do to comfort her right now.

"I never thought about it..." It scared him how weak her voice sounded. "In all my years as a reporter, I never thought about someone else getting hurt for my actions. I always thought the only person I'm putting at risk was myself."

He wasn't sure what to do but he knew he had to get her out of Arkham. Any place would be better for her than this.

"Let's get you out of here." He said holding his hand out for her.

"I can't." She whispered still staring emotionless at the wall.

"Sure you can."

She shook her head softly.

He had to get her out of here. She was in shock and he needed to get her home.

Without asking, he scooped her up in his arms, his jacket still around her shoulders. Her skin was cold to the touch. She leaned her head against his chest.

"Let's go home." He said.

He walked down the hallway, Cat in his arms. The cool blonde was approaching him concerned.

"Is she alright?" Baxter asked.

"She will be fine."

"My apologies Mr Wayne." She said, walking them to the exit.

"None of this is your fault. Have a good day Doctor."

"You as well." She nodded as they left Arkham.

The air seemed to have cooled down drastically over the last few minutes. As if even Gotham was in shock. He looked at her face which remained motionless, pressed against his chest.

Her breathing was shallow and slow.

Slowly, he placed her in his car.

"Where are wee going?" She asked in a weak tone.

"Home." He responded.

"I want to see Sam. Where is she?"

"She's at Gotham General for a check up."

"Can we go there?" She asked.

"Of course."

It was probably not a bad idea to have a doctor look at Cat as well.

The whole drive he was holding her icy hand, hoping she would snap out of it.

When they arrived at the hospital he opened the car door for her but she just sat there motionless.

He kneeled down next to her. "I can carry you in if you want to?"

"What if she hates me?"

"What?" He asked confused.

"What if Sam hates me?"

"Why would she hate you?"

"Because she almost died because of me." Her eyes shot at him in pain.

"She almost died because of the Joker. I talked to her and she is worried about you. Just go in and say hi."

"I feel numb." She whispered.

"I know. Let's just walk in and say hi to Sam."

She took a deep breath and nodded, slowly getting out of the car, her footing less steady than normal.

They walked through the automatic glass doors and he asked the receptionist for Sam's room number.

Cat's eyes remained empty and lifeless. He wished there was something he could do.

Sam looked as happy as always but you could see in her facial expression that the incident had left scars.

Cat walked up to her and they hugged.

"I'm so sorry." Cat said.

"What the hell are you talking about? Don't you dare let the freakish clown tell you this was your fault. He is not getting off that easy! You hear me?" Sam said in her typical candid tone.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine. Scared the living shit out of me but I'm fine. So you can tell your boyfriend..." Her eyes darted to him. "...that I don't need to stay in the hospital."

He smiled at her. He was glad Cat had Sam as a friend.

"What did you do?" Cat asked him.

Before he could answer Sam interjected. "He paid for the chief of surgery to look at me and monitor me which is just silly because all I have is bruises and cuts on my wrists and ankles." She showed her bandaged wrists with raised eyebrows.

He smiled and left the room to find a doctor.

"Excuse me, is Dr. Hayfield near by?" He asked the receptionist.

"Certainly Mr. Wayne. I'll page him right away."

He looked through the glass doors at Cat and Sam. They were talking and it looked like Cat had a little bit of color back in her face, although she still looked paler than normal, her eyes still distant.

"Mr. Wayne. What can I do for you?" Dr. Hayfield asked.

"I was just making sure Sam is ok."

"Well, since you're not related to her I can't discuss details with you, but you certainly don't need to worry. I'm getting the release papers ready right now."

"Good. Another question. Post traumatic stress disorder...Is that accompanied by any physical symptoms usually?"

The doctors eyes wandered over to Cat.

"I can certainly take a look at her. It's not uncommon. Dizziness, nausea, back pain and headaches...those can all be symptoms. But the bigger problem are the psychological symptoms."

He sighed and nodded, being all too aware of that.

"Yes, I know. I am going to schedule an appointment with a good therapist."

"Time usually heals all wounds." He said as he walked into the room.

"How are we doing?" The doctor asked Sam.

Bruce leaned against the door, wishing he could have prevented all of this. Yes, she was alive and so was Sam. But he wasn't able to shield Cat from the horror of the clown and the death of one of her good friends.

"I'm good. Totally ready to leave." Sam said in a very convincing tone.

"Perfect. I'll have the discharge papers ready for you. Make sure you keep an eye on those wounds and you should be back to normal in no time."

"Thanks." Sam nodded.

"How about you?" He looked at Cat.

"What about me?" She looked at him confused.

"How are you feeling."

She didn't say anything for a few seconds.

"Fine." She finally responded.

"Mind if I take a look at you?"

"For what? I didn't get hurt."

"Psychological pain can have physical symptoms. Any difficulty breathing?"

"Not right now."

"Squeeze my hand."

Cat shot Bruce an angry look. He knew she hated being taken care off.

"Your hands are extremely cold."

"I always have low blood pressure." She mumbled.

"Let me just listen to your heart beat."

He listened for a few seconds.

"I'm going to get your blood pressure and then I'm out of your hair."

He noted the results on his notepad.

"You're right, very low blood pressure. You look a little pale around the nose. I'd recommend something sweet to boost your blood sugar level up again. Aside from that you're fine. Make sure you drink and eat regularly."

She nodded absently.

The doctor walked out and stopped next to Bruce.

"She might experience nightmares or panic attacks. I'm going to give you a scrip of Valium just in case."

We got back to the penthouse and I still felt like I was not really there. As if I was in a bubble wrap.

"Here." Bruce said as he handed me a glass of water.

"I'm not thirsty."

"I'm sure you aren't. You still need to drink."

"Do you have something a little stronger?"

He sighed, concerned lines forming on his forehead. "Yeah, I'll get you something. Still, drink the water please."

I nodded, taking a small sip.

He walked back into the kitchen as I looked on my phone. Suddenly, the look of my phone gave me anxiety. It was the only way I had to find out Bruce was fine, it was the way I found out Jacob died.

In that moment I realized I hadn't even checked the news. This was not at all like me.

I quickly turned on the TV to see what they knew in the investigation. Who helped the Joker?

What I saw was not what I had expected. It was Bruce in this very penthouse, getting shot. I saw him stumble backwards, blood spreading over his white shirt. So much blood! But he is fine…

"Again, Mr. Wayne is not hurt. These images are disturbing but it was all an act…" The anchor announced on TV.

"You shouldn't be watching TV right now." Bruce said as he handed me a glass of what smelled like whiskey.

"You…you lost so much blood…" I said quietly, looking at his shirt, which was perfectly white and it didn't look like he was in bad shape underneath of it.

"Fake blood. All I got is some bruises from the impact."

I downed the glass, shuddering from the bitter taste of the alcohol.

"Now would be a good time to explain what happened." I said.

"I needed to find the location of this guy…"

"This guy who was hired to assassinate you?"

"Yes, and so I talked to Gordon and told him my plan. They would be able to catch the guy the second he shot me and I needed to make it look realistic, otherwise the guy would have known we were on to him."

I shook my head, staring at the empty glass in my hands. "What if he decided to shoot you in the head?"

"I had a feeling he wouldn't."

"You had a feeling? Don't you dare ever risk your life like that again." I said as I hit him in the chest.

He winced in pain.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry, I completely forgot."

"It's fine." He smiled. "I'm sorry you had to go through this." He said, his eyes looking concerned as he drew me into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry for all of this. I wish I could have been there for you."

"He's gone." I whispered. "He's really gone."

"Yes." He responded quietly.

"He's gone…" I repeated, almost more to myself. Hot tears were streaming down my face and I felt my body crumble. I had to hold it together for so long while sitting in front of the Joker, I hand't allowed myself to give in to the fear, the loss, the guilt.

I let the glass fall to the ground, shattering into a thousand pieces. It is exactly how I felt right now, as I was holding on to Bruce's shoulders, crying.

"It's my fault…It's my fault…" I said, barely able to catch my breath. I could tell I was starting to hyper ventilate.

Slowly, Bruce sat me down on the floor.

"Look at me." He said, his eyes concerned. "Deep breaths." He took a deep inhale and slowly exhaled. "Just like that."

But I had no control over my breathing anymore. I started to feel dizzy, tears still streaming down my face. All the images in my head blurring together. The Joker's face, Jacob smiling, the Joker's face, Sam almost dying, the Joker's face, Bruce getting shot… Blood…so much blood…on my hands….

Bruce was getting up and came back with a small paper bag.

"Here." He said as he handed me the opened bag.

I placed it over my mouth and nose and felt my breath slowly regulate itself.

After a minute I put down the bag, Bruce's eyes looking at me helplessly.

"I'm so sorry hon'." He said as he drew me into his embrace again.

We were sitting on the floor like that for a while in silence, his arms wrapped tightly around me, my head resting against his chest.
I heard his heart beating continuously next to my ear and it was the best sound I had ever heard. I was so grateful Sam and Bruce were safe.


As he sat there, holding her in his arms, he felt angry to his very core. Angry at himself for not being able to stop the Joker. He let him do this to her. It wasn't her fault…it was his. He let this happen to her.

Wright was caught which was a start. But he needed Medved. He needed to be sure the Joker couldn't hurt her more than he already had.

Alfred was right. He was afraid of letting anyone in his life. He didn't fear death. He feared not being able to protect those he loved. A picture of his parents flickered through his mind. Shot in an ally because he wasn't able to protect them. And Rachel… He hand't been able to protect her either. It was the never ending nightmare of always losing the people he loved because he wasn't able to protect them. After all his training, he still was only able to protect himself.

He heard steps on the marble floor.

"Master Wayne?" Alfred asked.

"Over here." He responded.

The old butler walked towards them, his eyes filled with concern as he looked at Catherine in Bruce's arms.

She had her eyes closed, her breath normalized but she wasn't sleeping. Her hands were still holding tightly on to him.

"Everything ok?" He asked Alfred, referring to the DA.

"Yes sir. I dropped the package off at the post office."

"Good."

"Can I get you anything sir?"

"We'll be fine." He responded, stroking her hair softly.

"The window will be replaced in 15 minutes, sir." He said.

"Window?"

"Yes, the one that has a bullet hole in it."

He had forgotten about that. He nodded, scooping her into his arms again and carrying her upstairs to the bedroom.


I felt dizzy, hearing voices in the distant. It was Alfred. I didn't have the strength in me to talk to anyone. All I wanted was to listen to the steady heart beat in Bruce's chest, assuring me he was fine.

He carried me upstairs and put me down in bed, softly placing blankets around me. I snatched his hand before he left.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"I have to deal with the window downstairs and I also promised Gordon I would come by the station and give a full report of what happened."

"Window?"

"They're replacing it."

"Replacing it? It's the middle of the night."

He shrugged. "I guess when you have enough money…Try to rest."

"I don't know if I want to." I said quietly. "I'm scared of what I might see when I fall asleep."

He sat down on the bed next to me.

"The doctor gave me a prescription of valium."

I had never taken valium before. "Does it make me forget things?"

"Unfortunately not but it helps your body to relax."

I guess there was no harm in trying.

"Ok." I said quietly.

He nodded and went downstairs, returning with a glass of water and the bottle of pills.

"There you go." He said, handing them to me.

I sat up, taking the pill.

"Can you promise me you won't make yourself a shooting dart board again tonight?"

He smiled softly at me. "Promise."

"Good. So after the police station you're going straight back?"

"Yes."

"Don't worry about me." He said as he kissed me.


He waited for her to fall asleep.

"Alfred?" He said as he walked downstairs.

"Yes, sir?" Alfred turned around as four people were working on the massive glass window.

"She's upstairs asleep. I gave her a valium."

"Knowingly, sir?"

He sighed in frustration at the old butler. "Of course knowingly."

"I'm just checking. You seem to be in the sedating-people-business these days."

"Anyway, could you keep an eye on her?"

"Certainly, sir. Where will you be going?"

"Tying up loose ends." He responded as he buttoned up his jacket, heading to the elevator.

He had already made arrangements for Isabel, Danielle's sister. She had police guarding her room and he had installed a tracking device since he didn't trust cops in this town.

Dressed as the bat, he saw the signal shining bright in the night sky. He arrived on the rooftop of GPD.

"Did he talk?" He asked in a raspy voice.

Gordon turned around, facing him. "No, he's not saying anything at the moment."

"Wright is just a man. He's not who let the clown loose."

"Any luck locating Medved?"

"Not yet. But I have a plan."

"Well, let's hear it." Gordon said as he turned off the light. But when he turned around, Batman was gone.

He had told Danielle to meet her under one of Gotham's bridges once the bat signal was turned off.

He was hoping she had a lead on Medved's location.

"You showed up." She said, stepping out from the darkness.

"You sound surprised."

"Well, let's say I don't have the best experience with guys like you."

"Guys like me? How many people dressed as bats do you know."

She smiled. "Everyone always says you're dark and broody." Her arms were crossed in front of her petit frame. "You've got a sense of humor after all."

"I need to find Medved."

"And you think I know where he is?"

"No, but I think you have some clues that can lead me to him."

"Fine. What do you wanna know?"

"Who paid you?"

"This guy Rick Mahler. Well, that's not his real name. Real name is Suad Bolajevic. Romanian. Training in the army, went to high school in Maryland though. Speaks flawless English."

"How do you know all that?"

"You think you're the only one with access to a database? Welcome to the 21st century, honey."

She was a computer hacker - he hadn't factored that in.

"Does he have a connection to Medved?"

"I'm sure he does. I wasn't interested in that. I was just looking to see what his training was. You know, in case I had to go up against him. Know your enemies, right?"

"Where are you spending the night?" He asked, concerned for her safety.

"Why?" She asked, walking up to him smiling. "Do you have room in your bed for me?" She asked teasing, her hand wandering up his chest.
He grabbed her by her wrist firmly.

"I am asking for your safety. Not for a date." He hissed.

"Not your type?" She asked, grinning at him.

Her continuous flirting was starting to go on his nerves.

"I don't date. Sorry to disappoint."

"Always so serious." She said. "You can't tell me someone like you, with all that build up anger, isn't getting some kind of…relief."

Her eyes were glistening at him, her lips parted ever so slightly.

"I can help with that." She whispered.

As he continued to hold her firmly by her wrist he was trying to figure out what her game plan was. It was her act, her mask. She used her sexuality as a distraction. It probably worked on most men. Despite her obvious beauty, he wasn't attracted to her. So what was she after?

In that moment he noticed five shadows in the darkness. It was a trap.

"Underestimating me yet again." She said, her expression shifting into a cold and hard stare as she stabbed him in the side of his body.

He groaned in pain as the blade slipped in between his rips.

"You really need to improve your research technique." She continued. "I don't have a sister. Sorry to disappoint."

She was working with Medved. He felt like an idiot for underestimating her. He hadn't been blinded by her beauty but by the fact that she was a woman. She twisted the blade and the pain rippled through his body as he slowly calculated his plan of action.

"Why? For money?" He asked under sharp inhales.

"Power. Same thing you're after."

"That's not what I'm after."

"Really? Seems to me you want this to be your city."

"You don't know me." He pulled her towards her in one swift move, pushing the knife even deeper. "And no, you're not my type." He responded in a deep growl as he ripped the knife out slamming it into her thigh. She yelped in pain, falling to the ground.

He had watched the five figures in the background. They thought they had gone unnoticed. Little did they know. The anger in him build up to a fiery rage as he stood there, bowing his head waiting for them to attack.

The first one attacked him from behind but before he could reach him he grabbed his hand and yanked him over his shoulder onto the ground. The thug's head hitting the ground so hard, he was knocked out immediately. The other four attacked all at once and it seemed almost too easy to take them out one by one.

When they were laying in a pile on the ground, he looked for Danielle. But she was gone.

He didn't have much time to catch the oil mogul. Cat would wake up soon and what explanation could he giver her this time? A business meeting? Unlikely.

After he quickly stitched himself up in the tumbler, he went back to Danielle's apartment. Yellow police tape closing off the door. As he had expected, there was no trace of her left. This was too well planned for her to leave something obvious behind.

Alfred called him on his bluetooth.

"What is it?" He asked.

"Sir, Miss Isabel…she's gone. The police officers say they don't know how she disappeared."

He wasn't surprised. Whoever she was, she wasn't Danielle's sister. Her role in this was over.

"Long night, huh?" Gordon asked as he walked into the room.

"Longer than I wanted it to be." He responded. "Any news?"

"Not much. Wright won't talk. This is all we have." He handed him the police file.

He quickly flipped through the pages. Nothing caught his eye until he read Wright's birthplace: Romania.

"I need to talk to him." He said in a husky voice.

"You?" Gordon asked confused.

"This is bigger than I thought. These people...they're not your average brawlers."

"I know Wright had military training."

"You don't understand. Danielle, or whatever her real name is, she played me. She doesn't have a sister. This was all part of the plan. The Joker knew we would find them. He wanted me to find them."

Gordon sighed. "Fine, I see if I can arrange something tomorrow."

"Tonight."

"Tonight?"

"We're running out of time."

Wright was sitting in the interrogation room. He was a muscular guy, wide shoulders, a big jaw.

His blue eyes were staring coldly into space. He wouldn't talk. Not to protect himself.

"Wright is not your real name." He said in a husky voice and Wright jumped and turned around.

"Wow, to what do I owe the honor? The real Batman, as he lives and breathes."

"Tell me where Medved is." He said, sitting down in front of him.

"Medved? Doesn't ring a bell." Wright had a smug smile on his face.

"Care e numele ei adevărat?" He asked in what little Romanian he knew - what is her real name?

The smug smile immediately left his face.

"Who are you talking about?"

"You know who I'm talking about. Blonde hair, blue eyes, flawless skin, long legs..."

Wright jumped up, grabbing him by his color. He knew there was a connection. Wright smashed him against the wall and was about to punch him, but he ducked the punches and instead the double-walled glass started to crack.

Blind with rage, Wright went after him but Batman was much faster, punching him first in the kidney and then in the throat, then smashing him on the ground.

Wright was chocking at his feet, gasping for air.

"Tell me her real name. Tell me the connection to Medved and nothing will happen to her."

"You don't have her." He said, his face red as he was still trying to breathe.

"Talk and nothing happens to her."

"You wouldn't break your code."

"Fine." He said heading to the door.

"No wait. Please."

He turned around, looking at the man on the ground. He knew the expression in the man's eyes all to well. He was terrified for the well-being of the woman he loved.

"I'm not going to give you her name but I can tell you where Medved is going to be in 15 minutes."

"Talk."

"He's going to meet with the new mob leaders at the shipyard."

"What is their plan?"

"They want to regain power."

"Do you work for the Joker or Medved?"

He coughed up a laugh. "You think anyone with brains really works for a mob leader? They have no vision. No." He shook his head.

He got the information he needed and headed out the door.

"Promise you won't hurt her?" Wright asked.

"I don't have her." He said on his way out.


I woke up in a cold sweat. My mouth felt dry, my head was pounding. I looked at the time - it was 6:00 am. Bruce was laying next to me, his arm wrapped around me. I didn't even hear him come in. That pill really knocked me out.

And then it all washed over me again. I wasn't waking up from a nightmare - the nightmare was reality.

Quietly I made my way downstairs, wearing his Yale sweater. I needed something comforting around me.

I got a glass of water and sat down in front of the TV, turning it on.

"...right here. As we learned from Commissioner Gordon, Sergei Medved was responsible for letting the clown out of the bag, as he put it." Alex said, reporting live from the shipyard. I hated that Alex got the job, but I knew why they didn't call me.

"Alex, what do we know about the Batman's involvement in this?"

"Dan, the commissioner would not specify if the Batman was involved or not but it seems pretty obvious that he was. Eye witnesses describe the scene of him taking down Medved as well as three other mob leaders. We understand they were trying to rebuild mob activity in Gotham, but they left empty handed here tonight."

"What do we know about the Joker at this point?"

"Not much, we know that he remains in Arkham. Officials tell us, there was never any direct threat from him to the public. He is held there safely."

"Alex thank you. If you're just tuning into WCX8, here is the latest information we have of the latest clown killings. Despite the fact that he is held in Arkham, the man known as the Joker was able to threaten the lives of six people and killing one. Our own Jacob Thomson."

A black and white picture of Jacob went over the screen. He was smiling, wearing his glasses, looking relaxed. I remembered when that picture was taken. It felt like someone had punched me in the gut again.

"On the list of people he threatened was also the mayor and the district attorney as well as Bruce Wayne. You might have seen these disturbing images..."

It showed Bruce getting shot over and over again. Him stumbling backwards, the camera zooming out, then him getting shot a second time, before falling to the ground.

But he is fine... I reminded myself.

"...but Mr. Wayne is alive and well. He was working with the Gotham PD, wearing a bullet proof vest and fake blood in order to catch the man who was assigned to assassinate him..."

"You're up early Miss Hunter."

Alfred's voice pulled me back to reality.

"Yes. So are you."

The old butler smiled softly at me. "I was just going to get ready and prepare breakfast. Coffee or tea for you?"

"Coffee please."

"I take it Master Wayne is still fast asleep?"

"Yes. Did he have to stay late at the police station?"

"No." He shook his head.

"That's good."

He started walking upstairs.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Waking up Master Wayne. He has an important meeting in an hour."

"I can do that." I said, getting up.

He nodded at me. "I'll get breakfast ready."

I walked into the bedroom, where he was still deep asleep. He had several bruises but the one on his chest looked frightening. I softly touched it, thankful a bruise was all he got from that bullet. The bruise on his abdomen was covered in bandages.

As my fingers softly brushed against his skin he grabbed my wrist firmly, his eyes wide open as he whipped me across the bed, pinning me down.

His breath was irregular, his eyes looked at me for a few seconds in anger. What in the world is going on? It seemed as if he realized suddenly what he was doing.

"I'm...I'm sorry." He said releasing me. "Are you ok? Did I hurt you?"

"I'm fine but...what the hell was that?" I asked touching my wrist, which felt as if he was still holding onto it.

"I'm sorry. I had a nightmare and... I don't know. Are you sure you're ok?" He asked me still breathlessly.

"What was the nightmare?"

"You...held by the Joker."

I hadn't even thought about how he must feel in this whole situation.


The last few weeks had been a blur. That day in Arkham was a distant memory, seemingly unreal. Sometimes it felt like I went into that building and never really left it. I remember the Joker's face very vividly. Too vividly. It was haunting me every day. And I remember the moment when I learned that Jacob had died. After that, it's a blur.

A few days after that horrific incident, we went to Jacob's burial. I was terrified of seeing his family and feeling their judging eyes on me.

Instead, they were hugging me, telling me in tears how much he spoke of me.

I felt sick to my stomach.

It seemed as time went on, everyone was fine and going back to normal but me. And what was my excuse? Sam almost died and she was fine now. In fact, she was better than ever.

"You only live once." She had told me. "In that moment I realized how quickly it can all be over."

She had taken more vacation time and made sure I saw all her pictures on several social media outlets of her travels.

The Joker had almost killed me twice before and I had been fine afterwards. The difference this time was that he had killed a friend of mine and I felt guilty to my very core.

The therapy sessions Bruce had arranged had been very helpful. Over the weeks, my nightmares were getting less frequent.

"Master Wayne will not be able to make it to dinner tonight I'm afraid Miss." Alfred said to me as I was staring out the window.

"That's fine." I nodded.

"I was thinking I was going to prepare a little supper?"

"I'm not really hungry Alfred."

"Non sense. I call you when it's ready."

I hadn't slept in my apartment in weeks because Bruce insisted I stay with him. He was more protective than he had been before.

I had taken a week off work but it was not enough to shield me from the feeling I had when I walked back into the newsroom again. Jacob's desk was filled with flowers and notes. Everyone at work looked at me with concerned eyes. Even Peter treated me differently and I hated it.

And then of course there was the picture... A paparazzi had captured the moment Bruce had carried me out of Arkham. His face stoic and concerned as I was - almost lifeless - in his arms. I had no recollection of that moment. I vaguely remembered walking down the hallway, the Joker's laughter everywhere. But then my memory cuts off.

Of course the tabloids and Gotham were going crazy over the picture.

"Did the Joker destroy her?"

"She barely survived the horror in Arkham."

As if we needed even more attention, the picture had brought us more into the spotlight. With all the drama surrounding us now, we were the perfect love story for the tabloids.

"Miss Hunter?" Alfred ripped me out of my day dreams.

"Yes?" I asked, wrapped in cozy sweater.

"Dinner is ready."

"I'll be right there."

"He is very worried about you." Alfred said as I was poking at my dinner with my fork.

I looked up at the old butler, who softly smiled at me.

"He shouldn't. I'm fine."

"He cares a great deal for you Miss Hunter."

I nodded while chewing.

"He would do anything for you. You know that, right?"

"Yes." I said quietly. "I don't know what to do myself. I'm broken but I don't know how to fix myself."

"Time heals all wounds."

"How long did it take Bruce to deal with the loss of his parents? He doesn't talk much about it."

"He carries it with him all his life. The loss. I'm sure you've seen the sadness in his eyes, like a scar on his soul. No one can take it away from him, but over the years, he has learned to deal with the guilt and sadness."

I nodded.

"All I can tell you Miss Hunter is that the world has not ended. Loss is part of living."

"Thanks Alfred."

Sometime during the night I felt Bruce's arm wrap around me. I gazed at the clock - it was 1 am.

"You just got back from work?" I asked.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you." He said as he drew me closer to him, kissing my neck softly.

"That merger better be worth it." I said.

He didn't reply but drew me even closer into his embrace.

I turned around to face him, looking at his eyes in the darkness. He softly smiled at me and moved my hair behind my ear.

"How did you overcome your guilt over your parent's death?" I asked.

His smile vanished and he looked at me seriously.

"My anger outweighs my guilt. That's why I work so closely with Gordon and the DA. I want to bring change to this city."

"I'm sorry I'm still...broken." I whispered.

"Hey, look at me." He directed my chin up to face him. "You don't need to be sorry for anything. You take as long as you need. Wounds don't heal over night."

He kissed me softly. Lately he had been overtly gentle, as if I was made out of glass and he was worried he might break me. I ran my hand through his hair which was wet from the shower he had just taken. I intensified the kiss, opening my mouth and meeting his tongue. At first his touch and kiss remained gentle but I could feel that he was trying hard to hold back.

I wrapped my leg around his hip, drawing his midsection closer to me.

He broke the kiss.

"Are you sure?" He asked me breathlessly.

"Stop worrying about me." I said as I kissed him again.

He didn't hold back anymore, his arm pulling me closer to him, his tongue meeting mine, demanding more.

It was the first time in weeks that I felt alive again. I felt like myself again.


"Master Wayne?" Alfred looked at him while placing another cup of coffee in front of him.

"Sorry Alfred what did you say?"

He had been tired and exhausted all the time these days. After catching Medved and his friends, he had spent the last two weeks making sure the Joker had no other way of terrorizing Gotham. Of terrorizing her. He didn't need the mask for that - just research and monitoring the people that were in charge of the Joker's security system. All seemed well. But sleep was the one thing he had to sacrifice in the process. He also kept a bandage on the stab wound at all times so Cat wouldn't get suspicious, telling her it was the bruise that needed to be covered.

"I was asking you when you're planning on telling Miss Hunter?"

"Tell her what?" He asked, opening the paper, which had another picture of them on page 8. The whole Joker incident had pushed them even more into the spotlight.

"Oh you know...the whole wearing-a-bat-costume-at-night type of situation."

His eyes met the butlers.

"I'm not planning on telling her."

"Excuse me sir, my hearing must be going. I thought I heard you saying you weren't planning on telling her, which is obviously ridiculous since you live with her and share a life with her now."

"I'm not planning on telling her because I'm planning to retire, Alfred. Now that the mob is out of business, and the Joker remains behind bars, I can hang up the cowl. Gotham doesn't need Batman anymore."

"That may be so, but don't you think Miss Hunter deserves the truth?"

"I don't want to put her into anymore danger. She's going through enough as it is."

"But don't you think she would understand..."

"Enough Alfred. Her nightmares finally stopped, she is finally getting back to her normal self. The last thing she needs right now is me burdening her with a part of my life that could potentially endanger her."

"As you wish sir."

"Besides, I'm planning to take her on a vacation. Get away from all the madness of the last few weeks."

"Well, that is something I can fully support."


"You want the story or not?" Peter asked me as I was sitting absently in his office.

I had no idea what he was talking about, my thoughts circling around Jacob and the Joker.

"I'm sorry. What's the story?"

Peter sighed in frustration. "Sergei Medved on trial."

"Yes, I want the story."

"Are you sure? I have other reporters who could cover it if it hits too close to home..."

"I'm good. I'll do it." I said getting up. "Send Bill to the police department. I'll give Gordon a call."

"Miss Hunter, I thought you might be calling." Gordon said.

"What can you give me on Medved?"

"I can give you a soundbite in 20 if you want. He was working with the Joker, planning on establishing a whole network. We had no way of getting to him, of course, because he is outside of our jurisdiction."

"That's where the Batman came in."

"You know I can't confirm or deny that."

"I don't need you to."

I tried to not let it get to me, but it was difficult not to feel the pain in me soaring again. Medved was the one that let the clown out the bag. Without him, the Joker wouldn't have been able to kill Jacob and threaten Sam and Bruce.

At the same time I felt thankful that justice had been served and Medved would be behind bars for life. However, it would not bring back Jacob.


Two weeks had passed and Gotham felt safer than I had ever remembered it to be. Summer had arrived in the city and there was a wave of optimism in the air that was unprecedented. The unemployment numbers were going down and so were crime rates.

I still had nightmares every once in a while and felt a sharp pain of guilt on and off, but in general I felt like myself again.

Bruce himself seemed like a changed man. He seemed more relaxed than ever.

I had taken a week off work at Bruce's request who said he would take me somewhere special.

When I left work that Friday, he was waiting for me outside the studio in the Rolls Royce, Alfred opening the door for me.

"Ready to do this?" Bruce said after kissing me.

"Ready for what? Where are we going?"

"I haven't left Gotham behind in way too long."

We pulled up to his private jet.

"Am I not even getting a hint of where we going?" I asked looking at the plane.

"It wouldn't be a surprise then, would it?" He smiled at me.

We took off and it was oddly soothing to be leaving Gotham for a few days. The buildings suddenly looked small and insignificant. Sometimes the city became larger than life, as if the world evolved around Gotham.

From up here, just above the clouds, it was a good way to gain perspective again.

"Thank you." I said to Bruce. "I think this is exactly what I needed."

We flew for four hours and I still had no idea where we were going but I could tell we were headed south. The Atlantic stretching out underneath us endlessly.

I was getting tipsy on champagne and a little dizzy from all the laughing.

"I swear I had no idea he was doing that." Bruce said laughing.

"You must have." I was laughing so hard I had tears in my eyes. "That's an amazing story."

"I didn't think so at the time."

We both regained composure from all the laughing again and Bruce's eyes were focusing on mine. He had a soft smile on his lips.

He leaned in to kiss me, pulling me closer to him.

"I love you." He said softly.

For some reason, I still hadn't gotten used to this side of Bruce Wayne - the one who can show emotions. Deep down, I was waiting for things to go bad again. I didn't trust the relationship bliss. I was trying to shake the feeling, but I still felt like he was hiding something from me.

"I love you too." I responded.

He smiled in response, taking my hand.

"Master Wayne?" Alfred said, walking back to our section of the plane. "The captain tells me we're descending."

"Thanks Alfred."

I looked out the window and saw palm trees and turquoise water. It looked unreal.

"Are you telling me now where we are?"

"My private island." He responded with a smirk.

"You have a private island in the Caribbean?"

He nodded. "I've only been here once. Always had too much work."

I vaguely remembered reading something about that in Forbes and remember thinking why in the world anyone needed a private island.

"To be honest, I bought it mostly because I felt like that was expected of me, you know?"

"Part of the fake Bruce Wayne?"

"Yeah I don't need any of this. The plane, the island, the champagne..."

"Oh I do need the champagne." I said grabbing the glass from him, taking a sip.

He laughed.

As we landed and opened the door, the salty, warm air hit my face and it felt so good. I took a deep breath, feeling the hot sun on my skin.

"So what is this place called?"

"Technically, I could name it whatever I wanted to. I just left it at Isla del Mar."

"So, do people actually live here?"

"No, it's a really small island. The personnel for the villa are flown here from other islands."

I shuddered.

He laughed. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"I just... I'm just not used to any of this."

I had a distaste for the super rich, drinking champagne in their villas, handed to them by their butler while thousands of people out there were struggling to get something to eat. Now I was suddenly part of it.

We arrived at his villa, which was breathtaking. It was right on the beach. It was modern and tasteful.

"Mr Wayne, Miss Hunter, welcome to Isla del Mar." The woman at the entrance said in a Spanish accent.

"Thank you Mariana." Bruce said.

"Let me know if there is anything my staff can do for you to enhance your trip."

"We will. Thank you." Bruce said and then turned to me. "Let me give you a tour."

We walked through the large house. The white marble floor stretching out underneath us, the giant glass doors were open, a salty breeze flowing through the house.

"Staff?" I asked Bruce.

"Yes, we have a cook and personal assistants."

"We already have Alfred." I protested.

"Alfred is more like family to me. I try not to bug him down with little things."

Having butlers still didn't sit well with me.

"I hire a lot of people on purpose. The more the better. I'm paying them way more than anyone else in the area."

I hadn't thought about it that way.

There was our master bedroom and then two more bedrooms at the other end of the house, four bathrooms, a pool, a hot tub, a gym and an outdoor shower surrounded by volcanic rock.

"An outside shower?"

"Yes, they're amazing. Don't worry, they have full privacy. They're especially amazing at night when you can shower under a starry sky."

"Starry sky? Who are you and what have you done with Bruce Wayne?"

He laughed. "I believe you're to blame for that."


We had spent three days in paradise and I felt like I was coming up for air. All the horror of the past weeks and months were far behind me. We spent our days exploring the island, swimming with dolphins, cruising on his sailboat, eating and relaxing. And of course we had way more sex than seemed necessary for any human being.

For the first time, I felt we were both free from the dark cloud that was Gotham.

We had dinner on the beach, surrounded by torches and candles.

"I have to say, if someone told me Bruce Wayne was a romantic..." I shook my head smiling as we were sitting down at the table.

"I'm not really. This is all Mariana's doing. She organizes all these things. Doesn't mean that I'm not enjoying this." He smiled at me.

"I don't believe a word you're saying. You're a helpless romantic."

He laughed. "You made me that way. What have you done to me? I used to be all dark and twisty..." He joked around.

"I'm sorry. I'm going to work on that." I smiled at him.

We had some incredible seafood, freshly caught that day, for dinner. We were talking and joking around. I was still surprised by the new easiness of the way we interacted now. It felt weightless.

When we got back to the villa we walked by the gym.

"When are you going to teach me how to fight?" I asked.

His face hardened, an expression that I hadn't seen since we got to the island.

"You still want to learn? The Joker can't hurt you anymore."

"I think it would be just helpful to know in general." I shrugged.

"Sure. We can start tomorrow if you want to."


"Ready to do this?" I asked in my workout gear.

He nodded and got changed into nothing more than workout shorts.

I noticed a scar on his body that I hadn't noticed before, above the bruise, which was slowly fading.

"Where's that from?" I asked pointing at the small but noticeable wound.

He looked at himself. "I'm not entirely sure. I think it must have happened when I fell down, a piece of glass must have pierced me just right."

I looked at him confused but then he pulled me towards him in one swift motion, covering my lips with his.

"It's going to be hard for me to concentrate with you around looking like that." He said, smiling at me, looking me up and down.

"Good. I need any advantage I can get." I said.

He laughed.

The gym was giant and had views of the ocean.

"So, if you really wanted to prepare for an actual fight, we would start with cardio and strength training. Lifting weights, those type of things."

"What do you mean - 'if I really wanted to prepare'? I do want to really prepare." I said, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

"Sorry, that came out wrong. I mean if there was an actual fight you were training for rather than preparing yourself in general. I think the best thing for you to learn first are just general self defense tactics. You can then work on strength training later."

"Ok."

"Ok. So lets start with your stance." He came next to me, positioning my body with his hands.

"Stand shoulder width apart, that gives you the most resonance. If I push you, you have more stamina that way. Roll your shoulders back, tighten your abdomen, push your chest forward."

His hands on my body were more than a little distracting.

"Good." He continued. "Now, lift your arms, ready to shield anything that could come your way. Good."

He moved across from me.

"Alright, I'm the bad guy. You want to hit me where it hurts the most. That's my eyes, my nose, my mouth, behind my ears, just above the knee and on the knee and obviously in the groin region."

"Got it."

"When you're in a confrontation, you only have a few seconds and a few moves. Especially if your opponent is stronger and more experienced than you. So, before he can regain full control of you, you must do everything you can while conserving as much energy as you can, and inflict the most injury. Say the person grabs you by your arm..." He said as he grabbed me by my arm. "That gives you time to use your hand and smash his nose in. Use the heel of your palm to strike up under his nose and throw the full weight of your body in it. He took my hand and guided it towards his nose. "Obviously don't do it hard this time or you literally break my nose."

I went through the motion.

"Good. Again, you want to do that so you can distract the person for a second. Be quick and efficient. Let's go through it again."

He came up to me again, grabbing my arm, I immediately used my hand against his nose."

"Good. Now I'm distracted for a second, hopefully letting go off you. If not, this is your moment to strike again. Hit me on whatever other pressure points are the closest to you. If I go down in pain, hit me with your elbow in the neck. If I lean back, kick me in the groin. Now, another good thing with you is that you constantly wear heels. Use them to your advantage. Stomp on his foot with all your body weight. If he goes down you can do the same thing to his groin of course."

"Do you really think my punches could do anything though?"

"Absolutely. Don't underestimate yourself. Try this." He said as he walked over to a punching bag. "Now, I want you to use your hand as we just did and think this is the guy's nose and hit it as hard as you can."

I did as he said, images of the Joker flickering up in my mind.

"Good, that was good. Here is how you can use more of your body's weight..." He said as he was standing behind, his hands on mine, guiding me. "Engage your full body, not just your arm. Lean back a little..." He softly pushed me against his body. Concentrate Cat! "...and then hit it again with full force."

I punched the bag.

"Good! Feel the difference?"

"Yeah."

We went through a few more motions, did some cardio and some weight training.

"I think I could pretty much kick your butt now." I said smirking at him.

"Oh yeah?" He asked, out of breath, his body covered in sweat.

"Yup."

"Proof it."

"Nah, not now."

He laughed, taking a sip of water. In that moment I kicked him in the knee. But before my foot could really touch him, he grabbed my leg with one hand, kicking my other leg out from underneath me. I prepared myself for a hard landing, but he supported my fall with his hands. He was smiling at me triumphantly, as he had pinned me to the ground.

I rolled my eyes.

"Good effort though." He said, looking way too smug for my comfort.

"Are you making fun of me?"

"No I'm serious. Deception is your ally. You waited until you thought I was distracted. Use that to your advantage. Also, try to play scared and helpless. The more they underestimate you the better."

He stared at me, his hot breath hitting my lips, the sweat of his body touching my skin. I couldn't move my hands since he had them pinned to the floor. I lifted my head to reach his lips, starting softly only to intensify the kiss, softly biting his bottom lip. He replied the kiss with fervor, grabbing my arms with one hand by my wrists, the other hand taking off my pants. His lips wandered to my neck as I felt my body move in response to his touch.

His hand moved between my legs, which was, at this point, not even necessary anymore. He moaned softly into my ear as he realized that, continuing the movement.

As he kissed me again, he pushed himself inside of me with full force. I moaned into his mouth, feeling his tongue meet mine. His muscles flexing under each movement he moved faster and faster. I leaned my head back, wrapping my legs around his midsection. His skin was drenched in sweat.

He continued his movements as my body was vibrating underneath his.

"Bruce, don't stop." I whispered.

In that moment he stopped. My eyes shot up at him as he was getting up.

"That's literally the opposite of what I just said."

He laughed as he extended a hand out to me.

"Don't worry, I'm not even close to done."

I took his hand and he pulled me up. Slowly he took off my shirt, bringing his mouth to meet my breasts. I ran my hands through his hazelnut hair.

He kissed me again and then turned me around in one swift motion, bending me over one of the exercise machines. He grabbed my ponytail and softly bend my neck back, bringing his mouth next to my ear.

"I want you to look at yourself." He whispered in my ear, the giant mirror in front of us.

I nodded in response, holding on to the machine tightly.

His hand let go off my hair and slowly moved down my body. Of course I cheated, not really looking at myself but at him in the mirror. It was extremely hot to see how he was looking at me. His eyes staring at my body in lust.

He pulled my hips towards him, pushing himself inside of me again. He wrapped my hair around his hand again, pulling my neck back ever so gently, holding my hip in his other hand as he continued the movements. Through the mirror, I saw him breathing heavy, looking at my body.

Without breaking the movements, he leaned over, kissing my neck, covering my hand with his.

I felt his hot breath in my ear and on my neck. He intensified his movements and I screamed his name as I went over the edge.

He lifted his torso off me, grabbing me by my hips and pushing me closer to him and himself even deeper inside of me.

My hands wrapped even tighter around the handles of the machine as he groaned and emptied himself inside of me.

My eyes met his in the mirror as he ran his hands through his hair, wiping sweat from his forehead.

"That was a workout and a half." He said out of breath.

I smiled. He slowly let go of me and put his shorts back on. When I was dressed he walked up to me, softly kissing me, his hand on my cheek, his thumb softly stroking my skin.

His eyes were warm. The sadness and coldness I had seen in them so often vanished.


We went sailing again that day and I was still getting used to him being an avid sailor.

"Is there anything you can't do? Seriously it's getting annoying." I said as he was steering the boat with ease.

He smiled. "There are plenty of things."

"Name one."

"Um... I don't know. I can't sing and I'm not a great dancer."

"You've danced with me before. And I hate to say this, but you're good at that, too.."

He laughed. "Maybe standard dances. It's a whole different animal if I'm forced to dance in a club."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. I try to stay away from dance floor as much as possible."

"Interesting."

"Feel better now?"

"A little bit, yeah." I said grinning.

We got back, I took a shower in the amazing outdoor shower and put a long, flowy red summer dress on.

The bathroom was equipped with several different body lotions and I chose the coconut one, which smelled like a vacation in a bottle.

I put on some light make up, put on my favorite gold necklace and sprayed some perfume on my skin before I walked down the hall to meet Bruce for dinner.

"Good evening Miss Hunter. You look lovely tonight." Alfred said.

"Thanks Alfred. Where's Bruce?"

"Master Wayne asked me to guide you to your meeting point."

"Guide me to our meeting point? I shouldn't be surprised anymore, really."

Alfred laughed. "At least he doesn't have me roll out the red carpet for you."

I laughed. "Seriously. Though, that wouldn't surprise me at this point anymore either. He has the tendency to go a little over the top."

"Emphasis on a little." Alfred said with a chuckle.

Alfred opened the door of a Lamborghini for me.

"Where is this place?"

"It is a surprise Miss Hunter."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head at the insanity that was Bruce sometimes.

I sat down and Alfred started the car, driving down the small road.

After 15 minutes we arrived at a pier. Alfred opened the car door for me and I saw Bruce standing at the pier. He was wearing a white linen shirt and black pants, his hands in his pockets. His tanned skin was standing out against the white shirt. He was smiling at me as I walked towards him. There was nothing around the pier but a very expensive looking motor boat.

"You look stunning." He said as he looked me up and down.

"Thanks, you don't look too shabby yourself. So, where are we going now?"

"You'll see." He said as he grabbed me and kissed me softly.

"You and your surprises."

"I'm full of them." He took my hand and we walked down the pier to the boat. He got on the boat first and then lifted me in by my hips, as if I was light as a feather.

"Please take a seat ma'am." He said in a fake accent, starting the engine.

"Take a seat? You wish." I responded slipping in between him and the steering wheel. "I am the captain now." I said, mimicking the scene from Captain Phillips.

He laughed. "Alright. Let me just help you out with steering a little."
He placed his hands on mine on the steering wheel.
"Ready?" He asked.

"Ready." I responded.

We started moving and he kicked it up a notch, increasing the speed.

The air was pushing me against him, I closed my eyes and inhaled the salty air, leaning against his chest.

He kissed my neck gently as we were gliding over the water.

He sped up even more, almost knocking me over.

"This is awesome!" I laughed.

The sun was slowly setting as we reached the shore.
"So, are we going to have regular dinner on one of these nights or is it every time like something out of a Barcardi commercial."

"Barcardi commercial? This is at least a scene out of a decent Hollywood movie." He said smirking.

We walked down the beach and reached yet another perfect looking dinner location. A white tent, torches surrounding it, overlooking the ocean.

"This is too perfect." I said as I was sitting down. "I feel like this is a dream and I'm about to wake up from it."

"Not a dream." He said.

After dinner we walked back to the boat.

"I wish we didn't have to go back in two days."

"We don't have to. You could quit your job and we could stay here as long as you want to."

"What about Wayne Enterprise?"

"Fox can handle it just fine on his own."

It sounded tempting, spending more time in paradise. I sighed and shook my head.

"I can't quit my job. It's part of who I am. I can't just…stop being a journalist."

"We can come here as often as you want."

I nodded, smiling at him. I looked out on the ocean, which was reflecting the stars perfectly.

"I'm happy wherever you are." He said.

I was still surprised by the emotional confession from him at times. Without thinking about it, I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him. Rain drops were hitting my skin. We broke the kiss, looking up to see dark clouds above us, swallowing the stars.

"Quick." He said with a smile, grabbing my hand.

"Where are we going?" I asked as he started to run with me in tow.

"Shelter." He responded with a chuckle.

We ran towards the the palm trees and I pulled him towards a large tree, giving some shelter from the rain.

He was smiling at me out of breath.

"Guess we're too late." He said laughing, running his hands through his wet hair, the white shirt now pressed against his body. My dress was also completely drenched.

"Looks like it."

Suddenly, he pressed me against the palm tree, kissing me passionately again. His hand in my hair pulling me closer to him.

He broke the kiss, his face inches from mine. He stared into my eyes with determination.

"Marry me."