Thank you guys so much for all your reviews and follows! Means the world to me. Here is the next chapter. I hope you like it. :))


He finally left the office close to midnight. He had lost track of time, trying to close the deal with another company. It was ironic how his alibi had become his real life. He grabbed his jacket as he walked out of the glass doors, dialing her number. She might be asleep already. It didn't ring. It went straight to voicemail.
"Sorry I missed dinner again. I've been stuck with all the paper work. I will be home in ten. Love you." He hung up and instantly he had a weird feeling about it. Something wasn't right. He called Alfred.
"Alfred, is she asleep already?"
"No sir. She went out for drinks with a colleague."
Then why wouldn't she answer her phone?
"Which colleague?"
"I believe she mentioned the name Alex."
"Can you connect me to his phone?"
"Certainly sir."

He jumped in his car as the phone was ringing. His heart was racing. Something felt off. Maybe he was being over-protective, but something did not feel good.
As he was speeding through Gotham's night, the engine roaring, he was hoping for Alex to confirm she was with him, safe and sound. Something told him - that's not what he was about to hear.

"Hello?" Alex answered the call.
"Mr Phillips, this is Bruce Wayne. Apologies for calling you so late at night, I have not been able to get a hold of Catherine and just wanted to make sure she is ok."
Silence on the other line. He felt his blood freeze as his grip tightened around the steering wheel. Why wasn't he saying anything? If she was with him surely he would have immediately confirmed her safety.
"Mr Phillips?" He asked again.
The man on the other line cleared his throat. "I…" He took a deep breath. "God, I was worried about this."
"About what?"
"She met me at JCs for drinks and…and she got this email… It's exposing…someone high up that's all I want to say over the phone. I told her to be careful."
"When did she leave the bar?" The adrenaline was pumping in his veins - he couldn't lose her.
"Only like half an hour ago."
"Where was she going?"
"She said back home."
"Do you have the email?" "No, she does."
"Thank you for your help Mr Phillips." He said as he hung up and quickly dialed Alfred's number again.

"Track her phone." He said as soon as the old butler picked up the call.
"One moment."
As he was waiting for the information, which felt like forever, he wasn't even sure where he was driving. Aimlessly headed towards darkness, his heart beat and the roaring engine as the soundtrack to this nightmare.
"I found her. She's at 799 Welton St." Alfred finally said.
With squealing tires, he took a sharp right turn, headed her way. The east side of town. Why would she go there? On her own? Was she kidnapped? He wished he had time to change into the Batman but he did not want to waste a second. First he needed to assess the situation. Did she find out information and someone knew about it? The drive seemed to take a lifetime, despite the fact that he was going 110 mph, the lights of the city flashing by his windows like lighting.

He finally pulled up to the location and what he saw send chills down his spine. Flames spewing out of a building that was nothing but rubble. That's when he heard the police scanner in his car.
"All units dispatch to 799 Welton Street. We have a reported explosion of a building. I repeat, all units dispatch to 799 Welton Street."
He jumped out of the car as fast as he could, running towards the building. He felt his blood freeze in his body. Where would he even start looking for her? Under heavy breaths, he ran his hands through his hair, trying to pull it together. Focus!
That's when he suddenly saw her. She was laying on the street, covered in dust and pinched underneath a door. "Cat!" He screamed as he ran towards her, but she was unconscious. He pushed the door away, pulling her into his arms. "Catherine!" He said, feeling his voice tremble.
Her lifeless body in his arms…it reminded him of the time he was poisoned by the Joker, thinking she had died. He needed to focus!
He pressed his finger against her neck. Relief flooded his system when he felt her heartbeat drumming against his finger.
Think like Batman - don't think like Bruce. He took a quick glance at her body, she didn't have any major injuries he could see. The biggest worry would be head and neck injuries or internal bleedings. Holding her neck steady, he lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the car. Over his bluetooth he called Alfred. "Alfred I've got her. She's unconscious. I'm bringing her to Gotham General as fast as I can."
"I make sure they're ready sir."
He couldn't lose her. He couldn't possibly lose her.


I woke up to voices in the distance. It was Bruce's voice. I wasn't able to hear what he was saying. I opened my eyes. Slowly they were adjusting to my surroundings. It was like I was in a cloud.
"I'm bringing her to Gotham General." He said as he was carrying me in his arms. My ears were ringing, my throat burning, and my mouth felt dry.
What had happened? Where was I? My head was pounding as Bruce walked steadily with me towards his car, his hand locked around my neck.

As I was resting my head against his chest, closing my burning eyes, it all came back to me at once. The email! The documents! The basement full of explosives! "Where is my bag?" I yelped in panic.
Bruce stopped immediately, his pain-ridden eyes focusing on me.
"It's going to be ok. I'm getting you to the hospital. You will be fine. Just stay with me."
"No I'm serious! Where is my bag."
"Don't worry about the bag now, I'll get you a new one." "It's the documents! Nobody can know I was here!"
His eyes narrowed, his features hardened.
"What did the documents say?" He said as he slowly placed me in the car.
"The DA is using this to launder money… It's all in the documents." I said, closing my eyes to reduce the ringing headache.
"You stay still. Don't move your head! I'll be right back."

As he ran off, I couldn't believe I had survived this. I had been an idiot! Who does this?
I tried not to fall asleep, waiting for Bruce to return. He returned, the bag in his hand. He placed the bag on the passenger seat, as I was laying on the back seat.
"Stay awake." He ordered. "Tell me what happened."
As I begun to tell the story, he started the engine and we were driving down the street. Suddenly I heard sirens.
"Oh my God, the police can't see that I was here."
"Don't worry, they're pre-occupied." Car after car passed us, the loud sirens and bright lights not making my headache ease in the slightest.
"Keep talking to me." Bruce reminded me in a stern voice, visibly worried about me as he was speeding through Gotham. "Oh yes… so then I talked to Alex about it because I wanted to confirm that I wasn't crazy…"
I kept watching him, his lips pressed together in a hard line, his hands gripping onto the steering wheel until his knuckles were white, his eyes staring straight ahead, like angry darts.
"Cat?" He asked suddenly, his eyes nervously glancing at me while also focused on the road.
"What?"
"Don't stop talking to me."
"Oh I had?"
"Yes."
"Oh… Sorry. So then, I was in the room, realizing it's all explosives…"
That's when I saw the 'Emergency' sign go by the windows. "I can't go to the hospital!" I protested. "They will know I am here."
"They won't. You will be fine. Trust me." He responded, pulling up right at the entrance to the emergency room.
In that moment I felt my vision go blurry, going out of consciousness again.


Three hours. That's how long she had been unconscious for. "Mr Wayne," the doctor had said right after the test results had come in. "She is going to be fine. There's nothing I can see on the MRI that would worry me. She has a pretty good concussion though."
He breathed a sigh of relief. A concussion. That's all. It was a miracle. The door had saved her. When the barrels exploded, the the power of the explosion pushed the door out and with it her. She had been so lucky. She could have easily died.

That had been three hours ago. Now he was staring at sleeping. Her cuts bandaged. Her bruises showing on her soft skin.
The anger in him was boiling. Whoever did this to her, he wanted to kill them.
Alfred had done some digging in the meantime.
"Anything?" He asked when he picked up his phone.
"There is good news and bad news, sir."
He sighed. "Alright. What's the good news? I could use some right about now."
"They were not trying to kill Miss Hunter. The bomb was scheduled to go off, it was not manually operated." That was indeed good news - he thought as he continued to look at her beautiful face. At least these people were not after her.
"How do you know that?"
"I went though security footage in the area. Two men brought in the barrels last week."
"Ok. What's the bad news then?"
"They weren't trying to kill Miss Hunter, but they were trying to destroy evidence."
"Evidence? Of what?"
"That's what I need to figure out. But if you turn to the news, you will see they're calling this a gas explosion."
He gazed over to the TV in the hospital room. It was muted but he saw the headlines. Gas Explosion Destroys Building "They wanted to make it look like an accident." He said.
"Precisely sir."
"Anything on the DA?"
"No, sir. I haven't been able to find anything so far."
"Keep looking."
"Yes sir."
He hung up, putting the phone in his pocket, not taking his eyes off her. Why was he never able to protect her? Far too often had she escaped death by a hair.


I slowly opened my eyes, my head pounding. I was in a hospital bed. Bruce was sitting next to me, his sleeves rolled up, his head bowed, his hands on his neck. He took a deep breath, running his hands through his hair while sitting up straight. That's when we locked eyes and for a second he just stared at me in surprise. "You're awake." He said with a big smile. "How are you feeling?" He took my hand into his, his eyes were blood shot.
"I…I have a headache but I'm fine. What happened?"
"You have a concussion so that explains the headache." He continued to smile at me, his face radiating relief. He leaned in to kiss me softly. "I was so worried." He whispered, his eyes piercing through mine, his hand softly stroking my hair as he was sitting on the bed next to me.
"I'm sorry." I said.
"What were you thinking?"
"I wasn't really…" I said biting my lips nervously.
He sighed. "Don't ever do this to me again.
I nodded.
"I'm serious. I can't…" He took a sharp inhale. "I can't lose you. You understand?" He said, his face close to mine.
I nodded again. I knew how close I had come to death this time. I certainly did not want to get myself in a similar situation like this.
"How did you find me?"
"I tracked your phone."
"Smart."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Tell you what?"
"Before you went out there. Why didn't you call me and tell me about this whole mess?"
"I…I don't know I just wanted to confirm that I wasn't crazy. You were at work so I figured I ask Alex. Stop being so strict."
"I'm sorry. I'm just…" He sat up straight, still sitting on the bed. His eyes looked haunted again. "When I saw you in that pile of rubble, motionless…" He shook his head, closing his eyes. "It scared me senseless."
If tables were turned, I would have felt awful too. Biting my lips again, I nodded, looking sheepishly away. "I don't know why I do these things. I seem to not able to stop once I have a hunch."
"Please just try to me be more careful."
"I'll try."
He smiled softly.
"Wait." I said as I suddenly realized something.
"What?"
"They had security cameras in the area right?"
"I'm sure. Why?" "That means I'm on it! They can see I was there. They can figure it out." My voice rang in panic.
"I can see if we can look into. Don't worry about that now."
"You don't understand! If they see me I'm dead. I have to talk to Gordon or someone…" I was trying to get up when he placed his hands on my shoulders, looking at me closely.
He sighed. "I've already taken care of it."
I looked at him puzzled. "I deleted the footage from the security camera. All they can see is a loop of the the old footage. They will never know."
"How did you delete the footage?" I was completely surprised.
"I have access to some databases…" He said sheepishly.
"Databases?" I looked at him, trying to understand what was happening. "Like what kind of databases?"
"FBI, CIA, Interpol to name a few and also all security cameras across Gotham."
"Wait…what? How? What do you mean?"
He sighed again. "It's part of Wayne Enterprises, well not officially, but we have a security division. I use it from time to time."
"So that's what people mean when they say even your security has security?"
He smiled softly at me. "I guess so. This is not public record."
"Why haven't you told me?"
"There was never a need to tell you."
"A need? I feel that would be something to bring up to your future wife…"
"I don't share everything about business and neither are you." He said sternly.
I looked at him carefully. He was unfortunately right, I hadn't told him about the emails because it was work-related. "Fine." I said. "So can I take a look at them?"
"The security cameras?"
"All of it. The databases…and whatever else you have access to."
"As a board member of Wayne Enterprises I would have to say no, but since I never play by the rules…yes you can. I've already found out quite a bit."
"Like what?"
"I'll tell you when we get back home."
"So, do you have a security company on the side?" I grinned.
"Sort of." He grinned back. "Can we go home?" I asked.
"Absolutely. Let me just clear it with the doctors." He said, kissing me again before leaving the room.
I really needed to start being more careful.


She had fallen back asleep when he had brought her home. He raced to the old shipping container that was his makeshift bat cave until Wayne Manor was finally re-done.
He took off his shirt as the pressed the button, the batsuit slowly appearing from the ground. He was ready to go out and cause hell for whoever was behind this. He was ready to break his one rule - kill whoever dared to hurt her.
"Master Wayne?" Alfred's voice echoed through the room. He didn't respond and started putting the batsuit on. "May I ask what it is you're doing?"
"It's pretty self explanatory don't you think Alfred?"
"You told me you had retired, sir."
"Yeah change of plans." He snapped back at the old butler, not stopping his transformation into Batman.
"Sir, if I may, you're not doing her a favor by doing this."
His eyes snapped at the old butler.
"You told me that you wanted to be more than a vigilante. If you're going out there simply because someone you love has been attacked, than you're nothing more than a vigilante."
"But it's Catherine, Alfred."
"We both care for Miss Catherine, sir. But Batman has to be more than that. You have to let the police do their job."
He knew Alfred was right. Already wearing part of the armor, he sighed, holding onto the steel of the encasing of the suit as he bowed his head in defeat. "I feel helpless Alfred."
"That's what love is all about sir." He looked up at the old butler. "It makes you vulnerable, more human." Alfred said.
"And that's a good thing?"
Alfred chuckled. "Yes, a very good thing."
"So what? I'm just sitting and waiting for the police to maybe do their job?"
"That's not what I said. Use your knowledge and your resources and hers for that matter. You don't need to use your body."


It took me a second to realize where I was when I woke up again. The pillows were a lot more comfy, the sheets silky. Then I remembered leaving the hospital, getting back to the penthouse. I must have fallen back asleep once I got back home.
Slowly I sat up, my head still pounding. I felt light headed. It was dark outside, the lights of the skyline shining through the curtains. I checked the clock on the nightstand - 10:36 p.m. I had slept for 12 hours.
Wearing one of his t-shirts, I slowly made it out of the bedroom, feeling weak. I walked by one of the mirrors, noticing the bruises and cuts all over my body. What did I get myself into?
I slowly made my way to the living room. I stood at the large window, looking down on the streets, fanning out like a spiderweb. What were these people hiding? What was the DA doing? How involved was he?

"Miss Hunter, you're awake." Alfred's voice interrupted my thoughts. I turned around smiling at the old butler.
His eyes looked at me concerned. "Can I get you anything? Maybe a nice chicken noodle soup?"
"A glass of water would be great."
"Quite certainly, miss."
"Alfred?" I asked and he turned around half step. "Where's Bruce?"
"Master Wayne has spent every second researching who could have been behind this."
"Ok, so where is he then?"
"You were asking about his security firm the other day."
"Yeah?"
"He has had that ever since his parents died."
I've heard about many rich people, having their own private security agency. Intelligence was power these days. It shouldn't surprise me but for some reason it still took me aback.
"Ok..." I slowly processed the details of this. "I'm still confused where he is."
The butler grinned at me. "Would you like to find out?"
I nodded.
"You better get dressed then."
Alfred was waiting by the Royce of me, holding the door open.
We darted off into the darkness and I was confused about what I was about to see.

I could see the Wayne Enterprises sign through the thick rain drops on the car windows. Alfred did not say anything and we pulled up in the parking garage. He opened the door for me. "Right this way, miss." He said as he lead me toward an elevator.
He used his fingerprint to open the door.
"Not your average elevator I take it." I said as I stepped in.
He smiled at me as the doors closed. There were no buttons to push, the light blue light illuminating the fancy interior.
"Is this his private elevator?" I asked Alfred.
"Something like that." He smiled back at me.
The doors opened and we were in an empty hall.
"What exactly is this place?" I asked as I stepped out.
"Wayne Enterprises has a security division." Bruce said as he stepped into view, his hands loosely in his pockets.
"That's how you have access to the databases?"
He nodded. "It's what I told you about in the hospital."
"Yeah, I just pictured it a little differently." I said as I looked at the screens, displaying different security cameras, thumbprints and mug shots.
"I can't have these databases open at my office. I needed a separate, safe location." He said.
"And even with all this, you weren't able to find out who Batman is?"
His eyes shot up to Alfred and then back to me. "No. He's good at hiding his tracks. Not even the FBI and CIA have a clue."
"And you know that how?"
"I was able to log into their cases on him. Unfortunately they've got nothing."
"How have we gone dating this long without me knowing anything about this?"
"I'm sorry. I should have told you about it sooner. I was going to, but look what I found out." He said, sitting down, typing on the keyboard.

Suddenly footage from a security camera appeared. I knew he did this to create a diversion, so I would stop asking him why he hadn't told me about all of this sooner. But as I looked at the footage, my curiosity got the better of me.
The footage showed guys delivering barrels.
"So what they are delivering the barrels." I shrugged.
"Yes, but always at night." He looked at me in excitement. "You don't do that unless you don't want anyone to see what it is you're delivering."
"So what did they deliver?"
"Well, we know what the barrels were and what their purpose was. I just don't know what they were trying to hide. But here comes the interesting part." He said pulling me gently towards him, onto his lap, his hand around my waist, the other pointing at the screen.
"There." He said.
"What am I looking at?" I tried to focus on the blurry dot he was pointing at.
Bruce hit a key on the keyboard twice and it zoomed in and focused on the blurry little dot.
"It's a mouse." He said.
"That's fascinating. Maybe you should call pest control." I said sarcastically.
He laughed. "Look carefully." He hit a key and the image zoomed in. "Keep watching the mouse."
I looked carefully at the pixelated mouse and he hit the play button again. The mouse started running out of frame and then the image jumped back and the mouse was starting to run again.
"Ok, so why are you looping the footage?" I asked.
"I'm not." He said looking at me carefully.
Shocked I looked at him, now understanding what I was looking at. "Someone else looped the footage." I said.
"Correct, to do the same thing I was doing with your footage. Make it disappear. Whatever it was they didn't want us to see, they cut out the actual footage and instead just put this image on a loop. Which would have been fine…"
"…if it hadn't been for the mouse." I finished his sentence.
"Precisely."
"I wonder if they cut out whoever closed the door behind me." I said staring at the footage and then I felt Bruce's hand on my waist tighten.
"What did you just say?" He asked me.
I kept looking at the mouse running and responded absent minded. "You know, the person who looked me in the basement. I wonder if they cut that person out of the security camera."
"Hold on. There was someone there with you?"
I looked at him confused. "I didn't tell you?"
"No." He shook his head vehemently.
"Oh. I thought I did. I was in the basement and then I realized that it was all explosives so I ran back upstairs but the door was locked. I don't know if someone locked it or if it just locked itself."
Bruce stared at me, his eyes were like daggers.
"Sorry…" I said apologetically. "I thought I told you all of this."
He took a deep breath. "That means they might know you were there." His jawline hard, his lips pressed into a tight line.
"Maybe, maybe not."
"This is not a game, Cat. These people will kill anyone who gets in their way."
"I know. I will be more careful."
He sighed.

"So…" I continued, "we have nothing on who could be behind this though?"
"No, I've got something." He said, typing on his keyboard again and another image from the security footage showed up.
"What am I looking at now?"
"The barrels." He said. "When they were delivered, one of the guys bringing in the shipment had a tattoo that I recognized."
He zoomed in on it. It was an upside-down triangle with a teardrop in it.
"You recognized his tattoo?"
"I've seen it before. At the Christmas Gala."
Suddenly, images of us at the gala in that restroom appeared in my memory. I tried to focus on the task at hand again.
"What? Who the hell is he?"
"I'm not sure. But I know that the tattoo belongs to the Russian mob."
"Please fill me in."
He smiled at my impatience. "At the gala, I talked to a guy named Medved, he was the reason I was there in the first place. I suspected he was dirty so I tried to get a closer look at his books. He was very smart, books looked clean. I knew there was something off though. Never was able to proof it. He had several guys with him, his security team. They all had that tattoo. Either on their temple, their wrist or their neck."
"So, the Russians are working with the DA somehow?"
"I have no idea. That's all I know so far."


Alfred drove back in the Royce. Bruce and I walked to his car in the garage. He pressed the button on his key and the lights of a black Mercedes S63 went on.
"Where is the Lamborghini?" I asked confused.
"Oh it's at Manor."
"Whose car is this?" I asked, looking at the shiny car with black rims.
He laughed. "It's mine."
"How have I never seen this?"
"Most of my cars are still at Manor."
"Most? How many cars do you have?"
He chuckled as he opened the door for me. "Eleven."
"Eleven?!" I shrieked as he closed the door.
He walked around the car with a grin on his face and I was still completely surprised. "What other cars do you have?" I asked when he got in.
"You interested in cars?" He asked his eyebrows raised, a grin on his lips. "No, but I'm interested in you. I feel like I should know what cars my fiancé has."
"I can tell you all the boring car names…" he said as he revved the engine, "…or I could show you?"
"I'm never good with car names…nor with boring."
"I thought you might say that Miss Hunter." He grinned at me as we were darting off into the night.

I hadn't been to Wayne Manor in a long time. As we walked into the front door, I was surprised to see the progress from last time I was here.
"It's almost ready." I noticed as we walked through the entrance hallway that looked more like a museum.
"Yes, we can move in next week." He said, taking my hand and walking with me through the rooms. It looked more modern than it had before. "By the way, once we settle in, if you don't like something just say the word we can redecorate this, no problem." He said.
I nodded but saw little I could improve. Everything looked tastefully assembled. It still felt overwhelming that this would become my new home.

"There we are." He said as he opened the door to the garage.
He turned on the lights and I was even more overwhelmed now. A line of luxurious cars, one more impressive looking than the other, highlighted by a dark line of blue lights around them.
"Are you collecting cars or something?" I asked trying to take it all in.
"Yeah I guess so." He shrugged.
"You guess so?"
"Alfred told me it would be a good idea. That's something a billionaire playboy would do."
"What is this?" I asked, pointing at a silver Mercedes that looked nothing like a regular car.
"The Mercedes Benz Gran Turismo. It's actually still in its test phase. I bought the rights to it."
"I'm not even sure I understood that just then. All right, give me a tour."
He grinned at me. "All right. This is the Maybach Exelero, boasting 700 horsepower."
"Looks like a gangster car from the 1930s." I said as I looked at the shiny black car.
"Exactly. That's what I liked about it."
"How much was it?"
"I don't really remember. I think around eight."
"Eight what?"
"Million."
I stared at him. "Eight million dollars?"
"It's ranked the most-expensive car in the world."
I shook my head in shock. "I'm not sure if I'm ever going to get used to that."
He chuckled. "This is a Ferrari LaFerrari" He said gesturing to the glistening black car as we walked down the line of cars. "Aston Martin One-77, Lamborghini Sesto Elemento, a 1966 Jaguar XJ13, Tesla S-Series, and a BMW i8, custom of course."
He said as he came to a halt in front of the futuristic looking car.
"That's eight." I noted.
"The Lamborghini Aventador you already know is over there, we came in the Mercedes S63 and then Alfred has the Royce."
"Of course, how could I forget."
He smiled at me, clearly enjoying this.
"So," I said slowly walking down the line of cars. "Which one is mine Mr Wayne?" I smirked at him.
He laughed. "Whichever one you would like."
"Where are the keys?" I asked teasingly.
"They're on the front seat of every car."
"So…" I asked as I kept walking, my hand gliding across the pristine hood of the BMW, "I can just pick any?"
He nodded. "What's mine is yours."
"All right," I said as I opened the door to the Mercedes Gran Tursimo, which looked like it didn't even have tires.
I sat down on the soft leather, the new car smell surrounding me. A giant screen replaced the regular stereo. He sat next to me, a boyish grin on his face.
"Have you ever driven it?" I asked, looking around in the immaculate car, although I felt like I was sitting in a spaceship.
"Twice, I think." "
Where do you even drive to in a multi-million dollar car?"
"There's always an event where you want to show off your wealth. At least that's what people tell me."
"So this is all part of the fake Bruce Wayne?"
"Yeah I mean don't get me wrong, cars are cool but I couldn't really care less if I was driving a regular car."
"How do I hook up my music?"
"Simple." He said, pressing his thumb against the screen and a bluetooth menu appeared.
"Do you have anything that isn't fingerprint activated?" I asked.
He laughed and then selected my phone on the screen. "There. What would you like to listen to?"
"Oh you'll see." I said turning on "You&Me" by Flume. The deep bass immediately filling the car.
I pushed a button and the engine started. I put the seat belt around me and then I saw the garage door opening. "How did that just open?"
"It reacts to engine exhaust." "What?"
He shrugged innocently.
"Any last words?" I asked him, my hands gripping on the steering wheel, a big grin on my face. He laughed holding on to the door. "Go for it."
As we cleared the gravel road and were on real pavement, I pressed down the gas pedal. The sound of the engine was impressive and even more so was the exhilaration. "Oh my God, we're flying." I said in excitement. He nodded but looked a little nervous, holding on to the door as we were coming around sharp corners. "Am I making you nervous?" I asked, smiling at him.
"No, no." He lied.

"And this is it." he said as we arrived on what he called his favorite spot in Gotham. As we pulled up on the hill surrounded by old trees, the lights of Gotham stretching underneath us, I could see why.
"Wow, this is amazing." I said, overlooking the entire city.
We got out and he came over to me, wrapping his arms around me from behind, tightly pulling me into his embrace, his face next to mine.
"I used to come here as a kid all the time." He said quietly. "It was my way of getting away from it all. From here, Gotham seems small, all the bad guys far away."
I ran my hands over his arms. It pained me every time to think how he must have felt, the small boy Bruce Wayne, when he lost his parents.
He kissed me gently on my neck. "Please don't ever do this again to me."
"Hey, my driving isn't that bad."
"I'm talking about you almost getting killed."
"Oh…that."
"That bitter taste of adrenaline and panic…it's the same even all these years later. When I thought for a second I lost you, it brought the feeling back I had when I lost my parents. It's this eerie cold that races through your body, freezing your blood."
I hadn't really thought about how this must have made him feel. I bit my lips together nervously as he was holding me closely.
"I'm really sorry. I wasn't thinking."
His warm breath hitting my neck. "Promise me you will be more careful."
"I promise."

We got back to Wayne Manor and I drove back into the garage. "Not bad." I said as I shut off the engine.
He laughed. "Yeah, it's an o.k. car."
We got out I looked at the lineup of cars again, still not believing that this was my fiance's car collection in my future house.
"So…" I said as I sat on the still warm hood of the car, "…the night is still young."
He smiled at me and walked up to me, his hands still in his pockets. "What did you have in mind?" He asked, not seeing where I was going with this.
I wrapped one leg around him and brought him close to me. "I don't know," I said running my hands over his crisp shirt. "what do guys like you do in a situation like this?"
His eyes focused in on me, a smile on his lips as he finally saw where I was going with this. He pulled me toward him, his lips hit mine and I felt like I was melting in his arms. Out tongues met and he slowly lowered me on the hood. When his hand was on my thigh, he stopped and quickly got up, as if he just remembered something.
"We probably shouldn't." He said.
I looked at him confused then looking at the hood. "Oh, you think it could scratch the car?"
He laughed. "That's the last thing I'm worried about."
"What is it then?"
"Hon, I pulled you out of rubble just 24 hours ago. You're lucky to be alive, you have a serious concussion... I think you should get plenty of rest."
"But sex is the best medicine."
"Laughter is." He corrected me with a smirk.
"They obviously don't know what they're talking about." I said getting off the car and leaning softly against him, his eyes fixed on me.
He looked serious, not following my jokes. His eyes were burning through mine, his jawline hard.
The way he looked at me almost made me nervous. I bit my lips, looking to the ground. He pulled my chin up, bringing my eyes to meet his again. He didn't say anything at first, just staring at me, his eyes looking concerned. I felt my heart beating in my chest. The way he looked at me made me weak in my knees, just like at the moment when I first met him. I felt spellbound. I was waiting for him to do something but he just looked at me.
Then he leaned in, softly kissing my upper lip. It was almost scary how much I loved him, how my feelings for him were burning through my entire body. He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me toward him, pressing my body tightly against him, his hand on my neck, guiding me toward his lips. I don't know how he did it, it felt like I had never kissed him before. I was feeling nervous and excited as if this was our very first kiss.
He intensified the kiss, separating my lips gently with his tongue until it met mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck, never wanting to let him go. He grabbed my legs and wrapped them around his midsection, carrying me to the hood of the car without breaking the kiss.
He gently lowered me on the hood again, looking at me breathlessly for a few seconds.
"You sure?" He asked.
I nodded in anticipation.
He kissed me again, his hand wandering under my skirt. I felt my breath hiking up in response. He broke the kiss, studying my expression closely, looking directly into my eyes. As his movements continued, his face inches from mine, I arched my back as I felt my body collapse. He trailed my neck with kisses, slowly opening the buttons of my blouse. His hands softly brushing against my breasts.
The sound of his belt buckle opening made my heart beat immediately increase. That's when he leaned over me again, gently entering me. He was more careful than normal, his movements softer and more calculated than usual. He kissed me again, our tongues meeting as he continued in the same rhythm. when he broke the kiss and looked me straight in the eyes, both of our breaths were irregular.
For some reason this felt more intimate than any other sexual experience I've ever had. His movements were pulsating through my body. I arched my back once again, leaning my head back, moaning his name as if I was pleading with him - pleading for the suspension to end. I felt his heavy breath on my neck as he pushed deeper. My hands on his back, feeling the heat and sweat radiate from his skin through the crisp fabric of his shirt. One of his hands went under my lower back, arching it even more toward him. His head next to mine, his breath heavier by the second, I finally went over the edge, shattering around him.
When I did, his arms around me tightened, pulling me closer into his embrace and then he followed me, his body jolting on top of me.
For a few seconds we just stared at each other breathlessly, as if we were both amazed how that just felt.
"I'm so incredibly in love with you." He said quietly, staring at me relentlessly.
I wasn't sure why his professions of his love for me still surprised me so utterly but they did. I just looked at him, unable to come up with a worthy response. I was never good at emotional professions.
"You feel ok?" He asked me.
"I feel amazing." I responded.
He smiled at me before slowly lifting himself off me. I took his hand he was holding toward to help me up.

As we were both fully dressed again, he swooped me up in his arms and carried me out of the garage.
Surprised I held onto him, studying his expression.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"The master bedroom." He responded, carrying me up the stairs with ease.
"You do realize I can walk."
"All too aware of that Ms Hunter." He smirked.
He opened the door to the bedroom.
"Holy shit." I said in awe of the room. It was the size of my apartment. He placed me on the bed laying next to me. His hands under his head, he looked like a little kid for a second as he smiled at me.
"So what do you think?" He asked.
"I love it!" I said as I looked around. "How couldn't you?"
"Did you see your walk-in closet?"
"What?" I said, sitting up straight immediately.
"You didn't think I not include a walk-in closet for you, did you?"
I got up in giddy excitement. He sat up, a big grin on his face as he pointed to one of the doors.
I opened it and put my hands over my mouth as I walked in awe through the massive room.
"Oh my God!" I said. "This is..."
It was larger than any walk-in closet I had ever seen.
"We can change anything you don't like." He said.
"Are you kidding me? This is amazing." I said as I went back to the bed.
"So, why are we not moving now? It seems ready."
"I guess we can. They're still working on some electrical work on the west wing..."
"The west wing? Are you the president?"
He laughed. "This is a very large house..."
"...mansion..."
"Fair enough, mansion. I thought we wait until it's a hundred percent finished but you won't even notice anyone is working there."


Three days had passed and I had come back to work, telling Peter I had a cold. Alex was the only one who knew what really happened and he wasn't too happy about it.
"Don't pull that shit with me again." He said as he leaned on my desk.
I looked at him. "Sorry."
"Seriously! When Wayne called me..."
"He called you?"
"Of course he did. He was worried senseless and so was I when he called. I was like 'this is it, this is when Cat actually dies and it's my fucking fault'. If I have to tell your fiance that you died, I'm going to haunt you in your afterlife, you hear me."
"Yes, sorry Alex. I got carried away."
"You don't fucking say. So what? Are you dropping it or are you going to look into it?"
I was about to respond when he interrupted me.
"Stupid question. Of course you're not going to drop it. So what have you found out?"

I spent the week researching the emails on the side. I didn't want Peter to know what I was doing until I had a concrete story. After hours Alex and I were looking into the DA and Bruce and I were looking into Medved. What was their connection? They had been good at hiding their tracks and it seemed almost impossible to find something.

I had finally canceled the lease on my apartment and Bruce hired a company to pack everything up and sent it to Manor.
"It's weird." I said as I unpacked my boxes at Manor and I had insisted that I at least unpack them myself.
"What is?" He asked, helping me.
"That I'm living in a mansion. That I'm living in Wayne Manor... It's weird."
He chuckled. "It's your home now."
"Yeah, that's weird. It was always like a castle that you looked at from afar."
"And it's still barely worthy of you." He said, smiling at me.
"Stop it." I said embarrassed, focusing on the vase I unwrapped. "I don't even know why I brought my stuff here. Who needs an IKEA vase when you have vases worth a small car in here?"
He shrugged. "I like it. It adds character."
I laughed. "Character. Yeah, that it does." I chuckled as I placed one of my favorite vases in the cupboard, which looked just silly next to expensive designer vases.
"So, my parents are going to be in town next week." I said.
"Wonderful. The guest rooms are ready."
"Oh they can stay in a hotel."
"What are you talking about? We certainly have more than enough room in here."


A week had come and gone. We had gone to the Metropolitan Gala and I had worn an incredible Givenchy gown in deep purple. The press had gone insane as we had stepped onto the red carpet, our first official appearance as an engaged couple. Bruce mastered them masterfully.
"I couldn't be happier." He told one of the entertainment reporters. "You know, I've dated many women in my life as I'm sure you're all too aware of. But there's never been anyone like her. I can't wait for her to be my wife."
They wanted to know about the ring, the date - which we hadn't set exactly yet, just sometime next summer - and when we were going to start trying for kids.
Bruce answered most of the questions, gliding through them as slick as a politician

Ever since we got back from the island, he seemed more relaxed, as if a dark cloud over him had disappeared.
We stayed up late, talking, laughing. It felt like we were falling in love all over again.
We took a stroll in the park, walking hand in hand along the lake. Suddenly I heard a tiny voice behind us ask: "Excuse me, could I get a picture with you?"
We turned around and saw an adorable five-year old girl with long, brown curls, standing next to her mom, holding an iPhone in her tiny hands.
"Of course." Bruce responded kneeling next to her.
The girl looked up to her mom who cleared her throat. "Um...I think she wants to get a picture with Miss Hunter, she is a huge fan."
Bruce laughed. "How presumptuous of me. Good choice," he said to the little girl. "I'd much rather take a picture with her too." He said smiling at the girl and she giggled.
I was surprised she wanted a picture with me.
"What's your name?" I asked kneeling next to her.
"Annabel."
"That's a very pretty name." I responded as she smiled at me.
"She watches the news every night." Her mom said. "She won't go to bed before she sees you on the TV."
Bruce took our picture and they went on their way.

"So," he said, putting his arm around me, "how many?"
"How many what?" I asked.
"How many kids?"
I looked at him blankly. "Um...uh..."
He laughed. "Am I making you nervous?"
"No, no... I...I just..."
He laughed again. "Look at that. The fearless reporter Catherine Hunter, scared senseless by a conversation about kids."
For some reason I hadn't even thought about kids yet. I suppose it was the logical next step.
"I just hadn't really thought about it. So...um...how many were you thinking?"
"Two? Maybe three."
I nodded, letting it slowly sink in.
He chuckled. "I had no idea this would make you so uncomfortable. It's quite fascinating to watch."
"No I'm not uncomfortable." I lied. "I want kids, too. Just not any time soon."
He smiled at me, placing a kiss on my forehead. "We have all time in the world."

Shortly after we got back, my parents arrived. This was going to be awkward. My parents were hippies, the polar-opposite of Bruce's lifestyle. While my mom was very excited to meet him, my dad had more reservations.
"You're dating Bruce Wayne?" He had asked when I first told them. "THE Bruce Wayne? The guy who is seen with a different woman on his arm, sometimes multiple, every week. That guy?"
"Yeah, that's not really who he is though dad."
"I'm sure." He said sarcastically.

So here they were. Alfred opened the door for them and walked them into the living room, which was already strange. My parents, greeted by my butler...
"Mrs and Mr Hunter, such a pleasure to meet you." Bruce said shaking their hands. Them meeting was like two worlds were colliding and in a way, it perfectly symbolized my life right now. On the one hand I was the kid of hippie parents, struggling to pay my bills every month like most people in Gotham. On the other hand I was the future Mrs Wayne, who had a butler, a mansion, a car collection and was practically royalty.
"Nice to meet you as well." They said before walking to me, hugging me.
"Let me show you guys were you're staying." I said as I walked with them.
"I'm just going to grab our luggage." My dad said.
"Alfred already brought that to your room, sir." Bruce said.
My dad looked at him skeptically. "Please call me Jack." He said.
"Ok, follow me guys." I said.
We walked into the massive guest room. "Oh wow." My mom said. "This is...quite something."
My dad walked through the room quietly, his expression serious.
I sighed. "Ok, dad. I know you wanna say it so go ahead."
"Oh nothing. I'm happy when you're happy." He mumbled.
"But..?" I asked.
"It's all a bit much don't you think?"
"Of course I do but his is his parent's home. I think it would be weird for him to give it up and live somewhere else."
"And the butler?"
"Alfred is his family."
"His butler is his family."
I sighed in frustration.
"I think he seems very nice." My mom interrupted, usually trying to get us to stop arguing. I was very much like my dad and sometimes we clashed because we were too alike.

We were about to have dinner and I just walked down the hallway when I saw my dad engaged in what looked like a serious conversation with Bruce. Oh boy.
"What was that all about?" I asked Bruce when we were alone for a second.
"Nothing."
"It didn't look like nothing."
He smiled at me. "He just wanted to know what my intentions with you are."
"What? MY dad asked that?" That didn't sound like him at all.
He smiled. "He just told me he doesn't trust me and that it is hard to believe that I would just stop being a playboy from one moment to the next."
"He said he doesn't trust you? I'm so sorry."
He laughed, not nearly as concerned about this as I was. "Don't. He is your father and has every right to be worried. If I saw me, I would react the same way. I spent years putting on the facade of being an arrogant asshole so I would be worried if your dad didn't pull me aside."
"Did you tell him that's not who you really are?" I asked nervously.
He smiled, tugging my hair behind my ear. "Yes, and I assured him that I would never do anything to hurt you."
I nodded.
"Relax honey." He said. "It's going to be fine."
I nodded again, still not convinced.

Dinner was served and it started out with some light-hearted conversation until my mom suddenly asked: "So, when can we expect grand-kids?"
"Mom!" I yelped in horror.
Bruce smiled relaxed, taking my hand. "We are talking about it but I don't want to rush her into anything."
"But you want children?" She asked further, much to my dismay.
"Absolutely." He responded.
"Would you raise it or would your butler?" My dad asked.
I was about to say something, clearly ready to explode. But Bruce smoothly answered the question.
"I realize my situation is a bit unusual to say the least. But that doesn't mean that I would not have all the love in the world for our child. I'm thinking about retiring soon anyway. I know that Catherine is a workaholic. She could continue working and I could be a stay-at-home dad."
I had no idea he had thought the whole thing through already.
My dad nodded, clearly positively surprised by the answer.
"And Alfred," Bruce continued, "he is the closest I have to a father. I realize that seems strange but he was always there for me when I needed him."
"What is normal anyway?" My dad asked, more relaxed now.
"Exactly." He said.
"So if he's family, why is he also still your butler? Why not answer your own door?"
"Dad, are we done with the question and answer session?" I asked exasperated.
"That's quite alright." Bruce interjected. "They have a right to know who you're getting married to."
I had never seen my dad this way and it made me furious.
"Alfred wants to do it." Bruce continued. "I offered him the opportunity to leave before but it's just always been this way."

Bruce smoothly answered any question that came his way and as dinner progressed, my dad slowly warmed up to him.
"It's been strange to see you two on the covers of tabloid magazines." My dad said.
"Since when do you read that crap?" I asked.
"Since you're on it." He replied matter-of-factly. "I realize that once they get passed the excitement of the engagement, there will be plenty of stories that simply won't be true about either one of you."
Bruce nodded. "Unfortunately. I''m trying to keep her out as much as possible."
"So when you said you put on a fake persona for the tabloids, what are you going to do now that you're getting married?"
"I'm not quite sure yet. I still have that facade that comes on automatically when I speak to the media. It's a self-defense mechanism I taught myself early on by necessity."
"It must have been so hard for you to lose your parents." My mom said. "Especially at such a young age."
He nodded. "It made me who I am today."
Somehow I survived dinner. We went to bed.
"I'm so sorry again." I said adjusting the blanket around me.
"Stop apologizing." He said as he finished brushing his teeth in our en-suite bathroom, not wearing anything but black boxer shorts.
He sat down on the bed, plugging in his phone, his muscular back looked almost unrealistically perfect minus of course the scars.
"What is it about parents that makes you feel like you're 14 years old no matter how old you are."
He slowly put the phone on the nightstand, a sad smile on his lips.
"Oh my God I'm such an idiot." I said.
I was complaining about my parents annoying me when he had no parents.
"It's fine." He responded kissing me on the forehead.
"That was so stupid of me. I'm sorry."
He chuckled. "Would you stop apologizing?"
"I'll try to."

The rest of the weekend with my parents seemed much relaxed. My dad warmed up to Bruce. They were laughing together and talking politics. Although my parents were not from Gotham and never wanted to move away from California, let alone to Gotham, my dad was still very interested in what was happening in the city.

I exhaled deeply as my parents drove to the airport. "Congratulations, you survived my parents." I said.
"What are you talking about? They're wonderful people."
"Yeah, in small doses."
He smiled, reading the paper. "By the way, I took the liberty to hire you a personal stylist."
"Wait...what?"
He still didn't look up from the paper. "Everyone has one these days. Makes it much easier if we have to go to events."
"Why...why do I need a stylist?"
He looked up with a smirk, clearly noticing my discomfort. "Look, everything you're doing, everything that you're wearing...it's all under the microscope now. The tabloids love talking about who you're wearing and all that stuff. It's much easier if you have a stylist who can put together your wardrobe so you can worry about other stuff."
"See, that's exactly what I mean. This is not me. Having a stylist..."
"It's part of your life now whether you want to or not. They will discuss every little detail of your life. Trust me, it's much easier when you have a stylist."
"You don't have a stylist."
"True. But I'm a guy. I wear pretty much the same every day. Dark colored suits. Nobody cares too much. And that's why I have Armani send them to me."
I sighed in frustration, realizing that he was probably right. "Fine. So when am I meeting this person?"
"Sometime next week if you want." He said getting back to reading the paper.


It was difficult to research on the whole Medved story on the side. After a long day at work, I poured over documents and data to see what I could find on the guy. I felt like I had multiple lives. The public image life of Catherine Hunter the journalist, the hidden investigative side and then the life of the future Mrs Wayne.
"How did I get pulled into this?" Alex sighed as he handed me a coffee.
"Thanks." I said taking a sip from the hot beverage. "It's probably because you want to help a dear colleague out." I said sarcastically.
"Yeah… You know me so well." He opened his laptop. "Anyway Mrs. Wayne, I have something for you."
"Not Mrs Wayne yet." I reminded him but he ignored me.
"I pulled the licenses on the building."
"So have I." I shrugged. "I didn't see anything."
"Neither did I. But then I saw a name of an old source of mine."
"And…?"
"He wants to talk tonight so I'm going to meet him in 30 minutes."
"Um… Aren't you forgetting something?"
He looked confused. "Like what?"
I pointed at myself. "Me."
"No, no, no."
"Why not?"
"I don't know, because you almost died last time. I really don't want to get killed by a drone strike from your fiancee."
I rolled my eyes. "You'd rather be killed by him than by me, I can tell you that. No way I'm not coming with you. Where are we meeting Deep Throat?"
He laughed. "We're not Woodward and Bernstein."
"I know. But you have to say this is still pretty cool." I smirked.
He turned serious for a second. "This is not a game Cat."
"Not you too." I sighed. "I know, I know. I'm going to be careful. Let's go sourpuss."

We arrived at an empty parking garage.
"Wow, this really does feel like Watergate." I said, looking around. "So who is he exactly?"
"I did a story with him a while back on building codes." Alex said, checking his phone.
"And what do you think he could know about whatever it is that's going on here?"
"Not sure but he was the one who signed the last few licenses and then it stopped and suddenly another guy signed them." "Another guy?"
"Yeah, his boss. There he is." He said nodding his head toward an approaching shadow.
"Alex, nice to see you again." The man said, looking serious. He was skinny and tall, wearing glasses a collared shirt with an expensive sweater over it. He looked like a nerd.
"Same to you. This is Catherine Hunter." Alex said, gesturing toward me.
"I know who you are." The man responded.
"What was your name?" I asked shaking his hand.
"I'd rather not use my real name. I mean, Alex knows my real name but I'd rather we not use it."
Wow, he was paranoid.
"That's fine. I'll just call you X then."
"Sure." He nodded nervously.
"What have you got for us?" Alex asked.
X looked around before continuing in a lower voice. "So there are several things going on."
I perked up.
"First about the licenses… I noticed it a few months back."
"Noticed what?" Alex asked, crossing his arms.
"They were rushing them through - a lot of them. At least double the amount. So I got suspicious and pulled some of them and there were just some irregularities. Something just felt off. So I talked to my boss about it. He said we are just busier, Gotham is coming out of a recession. A week later I was pulled from my shift and put in a different department."
"To silence you?" I asked.
"I guess so. Well, that made me even more suspicious so I started to hack into the system and look around. There was this name of this one person that appeared all over the place…a Vladimir Zokaiev." "Russian." I said.
"I'm not sure but so I started to look into him and there is really nothing. It's like he doesn't exist."
"Do you have any of those licenses?" Alex asked.
"Yeah, it's all on this thumb drive." He responded, handing it to Alex. "Maybe you can find something out. This seems really weird to me and when you called…it confirmed my gut feeling."
"We will look into it. Thanks." Alex said.
"Good to meet you." He nodded at me and went back to his car.
"What do you make of that?" I asked Alex as we watched him leave around the corner.
"I'm not sure. Looks like we hit something big though. Whatever it is."
"Yeah... The fact that the guy is Russian is particularly interesting. Bruce mentioned something about a Russian mob leader in Gotham."
"Medved." Alex stated.
I nodded. "We should have asked him if he knows Medved."
"I doubt... What are you doing?" He said as I started sprinting across the parking lot.
"I'll just see if he's still here."
"Cat..." He said, chasing after me.
I saw his car and him sitting inside, looking at his cell phone.
"X." I said but he didn't hear me so I simply opened the car door and quickly sat next to him. "Quick question." I said, looking at Alex's expression as he came toward me. He probably thought I was a little too brash with his source. "I was just wondering if you knew..."
But then I saw Alex's face, the color drained from his complexion. I looked at X more closely and that's when I realized...he wasn't looking at his phone.
His sweater soaked in blood, his face pale, his throat perfectly slit.