Son
Part 2
When one spends decades training in sensing the others' presence, one eventually picks up some things from a familiar step. Bruce could, for instance, hear Alfred's annoyance through the slap of his shoe on the floor. He supposed he deserved it, after he pulling out of every single responsability he had planned that afternoon.
"I hope your trip to Metropolis was worth cancelling four important business meetings. Lucius was not happy."
Bruce grunted, his eyes glued on his computer. He was reviewing what he had already scanned the previous day. Everything he could find on Diana Prince was plastered on the four large screens in front of him. She was a Greek expatriate, had grown up in the countryside, away from civilization. Her studies had been far above average and her various jobs had led her to become curator at the Louvre. She had come to stay in Metropolis to meet a client in Gotham. She also happened to be, according to the birth certificate tied to her ID, the proud mother of a four-year-old boy named Hippolyte Steven Prince. No official father. Said child's ID was also opened up front. Blue eyes stared back at him filled with innocence; a mop of dark hair adorned the top of his head. The round face and the small childish pout could have made him smile if not for the uncanny resemblance with his own face, many decades earlier.
"I have never thought you would feel nostalgic, Master Wayne," Alfred said with a hint of surprise.
Bruce didn't bother with a reply. The butler was not stupid; it wouldn't take him long to figure out these pictures had nothing to do with his childhood.
"Master Wayne?" Alfred repeated, and this time Bruce caught the intrigued tune.
"This is not me," he replied, his voice surprisingly calm, compared to the inner turmoil he felt inside. "The child is hers."
Diana Prince's portrait was still popped up on the upper left screen. For a while, neither man spoke.
"Is it safe to assume you encountered the lady before?" the butler eventually broke the silence. His voice was eerily soft.
"Well, you did say you wanted a next generation of Wayne someday." The humor attempt felt flat. Bruce had no desire to laugh. For one rare time, Alfred had no smart comeback. "His name is Hippolyte. He will be five in a few months."
There was nothing but a heavy silence in the cave, only broken by the flutter of wings and squeaking sound of its initial inhabitants. Bruce knew his butler was now reading every document put on display: the ID of both Diana Prince and her son, the uncanny ressemblance between the boy and his own appearance at that age. Hippolyte was his spitting portrait, aside from his smile. He had his mother's smile.
"She didn't trust Bruce Wayne to be a good father." He said blandly. "He was never supposed to find out; she had no intention of telling me. I reached out to her."
Silence again. Alfred hadn't expected that.
"How did you find out?"
"She was in Gotham last night, attacked by thugs with the boy. The Bat interfered. I recognized her then. When I noticed Hippolyte, I had to check."
"So you followed her to Metropolis?"
"Their stay is temporary; their plane is set to take off in two days. If I wanted to talk to them, I had to act fast. I couldn't approach her till late afternoon."
She wasn't some idiotic model or a gold-digger. She was educated, she had a stable job with a good pay, and it wasn't hard to see the little boy was her world.
"Will you see them again?" Alfred finally inquired.
"I am meeting Miss Prince tomorrow morning." He glanced at the clock. "This morning," he amended.
"I take it she was not pleased by your sudden interest."
"She wouldn't talk in the park. She wanted breakfast, because it would give her time to organize her day." He swallowed. "I wanted to find out more about her beforehand."
And make sure she hadn't been lying about the place she stayed.
"And the verdict is…?"
"She's normal. Mostly." He paused, scanned a few documents. "There are a few blanks I would rather like to fill in her history, but none of her actions corroborate criminal activity."
Bruce could hear Alfred rolling his eyes already.
"That would be a first," he muttered. Needless to mention Selina, Talia or Andrea. The ballet of socialites he had bedded over the years didn't count.
Bruce let the older man to his thoughts. It was already past midnight. Miss Prince had invited him over around seven. A quick hacking into the police activity showed a peaceful night –or as peaceful a night in Gotham could be. Bruce decided it might be for the best. He didn't want to risk a bruise and arouse suspicion from his former one-night stand. Or scare the little boy, for the matter. Still, those seven hours might turn out to be the longest ones in his life.
Son
At six thirty, he was knocking at her door. In spite of the early hour, Bruce couldn't wait any longer. Diana Prince herself opened the door minutes later. She was wearing a pristine white suit, the jacket attached with a small golden cord and the neckline decorated with a golden necklace. Her hair was tied in a high ponytail and the light makeup emphasized her dark eyes. She raised an eyebrow at his presence, but stepped aside to let him in.
"You are early," she noted. Bruce shrugged in response.
"Couldn't sleep," he replied. Diana hummed, her lips pinched in annoyance.
Her hotel room was large and aesthetically rich. Two queen-sized beds stood next to the other, both properly made. Hippolyte was sitting on the deskwork, up and ready, busy drawing a picture. When Bruce entered, he turned around to glance at the visitor.
"Hip, come greet our guest." Diana encouraged the boy. "Do you remember Mister Wayne? We met at the park yesterday."
Hippolyte dropped his pen and rushed to his mother's side. Bruce's heartbeat hammered in his ribcage. The boy had been too busy swinging on the monkey bars the previous day. Even though he had been staying by Diana's side for a while, he hadn't given him a second glance. This would be the first time he saw him from up close. He swallowed, crouched to be at the boy's level. Pictures didn't transcribe the intensity of those blue eyes, the curiosity, as they faced this stranger.
"Hello Hippolyte," he said quietly.
The boy wasn't that shy –he didn't quite hide behind Diana's leg. But he still kept very close to her.
"Hello Mister Wayne," he said in this sotto childlike tone. "You're taller than mother."
Diana ran a gentle hand in his hair. Bruce smiled, feeling the absurdity of the situation dawning upon him.
"I guess I am." Which meant Hippolyte might become tall too, just like his parents. Damn. He was an effing father. The boy was his flesh and blood and the mother was still alive. How was he supposed to deal with this?
One last shy smile and Hippolyte darted back to the table. Bruce watched him, the messy hair, the good quality of his clothes, his lean and agile lithe body climbing back on a chair meant for a much taller adult. As if sensing their gaze on him, the boy sat on his knees and turned around to glance back at them.
"Ethan will pick you up in a moment," Diana added. "Mister Bruce and I have to talk."
His attention snapped back to her.
"He's not coming with us?"
"I have to meet four clients today, the first at ten," she responded. "I need to leave around nine, and I can't afford to keep Hip with me at all times. Ethan is his godfather and has been babysitting him for a while," she added. "And I would like no…distraction for our conversation."
Bruce tightened his fists but nodded. He cast another glance at the boy.
"I should have insisted having this conversation yesterday night then," he retorted bitterly.
"I did not lie about being busy last night either, Mister Wayne," she shot back. "Some of us have to work to earn a living."
The jab made him wince slightly. He knew she wasn't poor by any means, but she had worked hard to get where she stood today. Juggling her schedule with the needs of her young son mustn't be easy, especially if he decided to barge back into their lives. And given the reputation he had built for himself, the tabloids still clinging onto his back, no wonder why she saw his presence as a hindrance.
Someone knocked at the door. Diana returned to open.
"Hey Di," said the newcomer.
Bruce watched as Hippolyte immediately jump off his chair without being prompted.
"Ethan!" he shouted cheerfully.
The newcomer was a young man in his mid-twenties, redhead and freckled with a big wide smile. He stepped in the hotel room after giving Diana a quick hug and picked up the child to give him a sound kiss on the cheek. Hippolyte yelped in protest but wrapped his arms around the man's neck in return. He finally noticed Bruce's presence, and stepped closer, mindless of the boy clinging at him.
"Ethan Denver," he introduced himself with a firm handshake. "It's an honor to meet you, Mister Wayne."
Bruce plastered his best polite face, burying the simmering jealousy in the depth of his chest.
"Likewise."
He wondered if the young man was aware of his tie to the child. If he did, he didn't linger and directed his attention back on Diana instead.
"Back at five?"
"Maybe a little earlier," she replied. "Mr. Barnes wants to meet at the Mercury." She grimaced. "If he turns out like Luthor, I won't be staying long."
"Don't break this one's fingers," Denver teased.
If Bruce hadn't known her purpose in Metropolis, he might have not understood the exchange. He also knew the Mr. Barnes in question was an art amateur, and that Luthor had tried to acquire a few pieces of artwork in the past years. Given the latter's reputation with beautiful women, Bruce had no doubt as to what might have occurred. Some might argue he was no better, but at least he waited for an explicit consent before making a move. It made him wonder how many times she had come here, and if she had brought her son with her too.
"Mr. Barnes won't bother you," Bruce inputted promptly. "Amongst the socialites, he has one of the best reputations."
The two glanced at him, as if remembering his presence. Bruce felt slightly put off at their disinterest.
"Good to know," Denver said and put Hippolyte back on the floor. "Go put your coat on, little rascal. We're out for a looooooong day."
The little boy giggled and hurried to the pile of coats on the chair next to the front door. He slipped his on and followed Denver outside. Bruce did feel a little better when the boy waved at him before leaving the two of them alone. Diana picked up her own coat.
"Let's go," she said.
She led him down to a café just down the nearly empty streets. The lights had barely been turned off and the morning traffic wouldn't start until a good hour later. As she found them a table in the corner, Bruce remained silent. He had so many questions he didn't know where to start.
"We have two hours," she declared calmly.
"Did you know who I was when you invited me to your room?" he blurted.
She pinched her lips, looked sideways. Not avoiding his eyes, he noted, but rather out of…annoyance.
"Not back then," she replied. "I found out when I saw the headlines in some trash magazine a few days later."
They fell silent when the waiter approached. Bruce didn't know how to pursue the conversation, feeling very much out of his depth. He had never been in this situation before, especially involving a woman who actually had brains and no criminal background.
"I've touched your scars, Mr. Wayne." Diana went on. "I know a knife wound or a bullet wound when I see one. I do not want to get entangled in the business you are delving in and I certainly won't let Hip be drawn in either."
Bruce stared sharply at her.
"You think I'm hiding something?"
She met his eyes unblinkingly, almost daring him to contradict her.
"You are hiding something," Diana said simply. "I am not sure what, and I am not willing to linger and find out. Our life is in Paris, and I won't change that." She sighed and added reluctantly: "I am not a monster. If he wishes to know about you, I will not lie."
"That is not enough," Bruce replied without thinking. Cautious screamed at him, but something in his guts snapped. "I want to be part of his life. His current life. I think I have a right to."
What was he doing? He chided himself. He couldn't afford to lose focus. There was always something that would require his attention, something that will make him neglect his child. Dick and Jason were proof of his failures. Why did he think he could have better luck with a toddler?
Diana glared at him.
"How am I supposed to trust a man like you with my son?" she said coldly.
Bruce clenched his teeth. He never thought he would ever come to hate his public persona so much.
"I am more than what the papers write," he hissed between clenched teeth. She didn't believe him.
"Then prove it!" she snarled. "Prove you are more than just a shallow businessman who can't get past his parents' murder."
That stung. Bruce snarled back:
"Don't involve my parents in this! You have no right!"
Diana shut her eyes briefly and inhaled.
"I apologize, this was unfair," she said briskly. "But the rest still stands."
Bruce pursed his lips; he hated it but he understood her wariness. He had worked very hard to ensure that shallow reputation; it was only a matter of time before it came to bite him back in the ass. Her phone rang, interrupting the tension. A worried frown crossed her face as she picked up.
"Ethan?" Bruce tensed in turn. What did Denver want now? "Wait, wait, wait, slow down. Yes, breathe." She paused and listened. "I see. We're at the Bouchon. Yes, the one in the corner." She sighed. "It's not your fault Ethan, I'll find a way. See you."
She hung up and stared at him.
"Well," she said, looking not quite pleased. "It seems you will have your chance to prove yourself, Mr. Wayne. Would you like to babysit Hip for the day?
Son
"Be good to Mister Bruce," she repeated for the nth time. Hippolyte rolled his eyes and huffed impatiently. Diana couldn't help the small smile on her face. "I will see you tonight."
Her son pouted.
"Why can't I come with you?" he whined again. Diana resisted the urge to roll her eyes and explained again:
"Ethan can't keep you because of Lily's accident. I have to work too. Mister Bruce was kind enough to agree to watch over you for the day. He is driving you to his house –it's a big house. I know you will have a lot of fun exploring."
The notion of adventure in a new place seemed to cheer him up a little. Diana was momentarily glad he had inherited her curiosity of the unknown. Hopefully Mr Wayne -Bruce, she mentally corrected herself; he asked you to call him Bruce - would manage to distract him by letting him explore his domain.
She pulled him in her arms, held him tight, never tired of feeling his small body against hers. Parting from him always pained her. She didn't like it when he was out of her sight for too long. She liked even less that she had to let him with that man. Unfortunately, Ethan really needed to stay by Lillian's side and hospitals weren't a suitable place for a young, fully-energized child. And she certainly couldn't bring him on her little side-quest. She hadn't been lying when she had mentioned having appointments all day long. Only Barnes was for her official job. The two others…
Hunting a full-grown Chimera was an even less suitable place for a five-year-old boy. Sometimes, she wished she hadn't noticed that particular magical shield during an exhibition. The picture had seemed innocent enough, but she had recognized the engraving on the borders, signs that one of those mystical beasts had been trapped into it. She needed to retrieve it and put it to safety before an idiot stumbled across or even worse, figured out how to break it free. But then, humans were terrible at keeping themselves safe, and given the mystical nature of the threat, Diana couldn't just stand by. Hence, Hip would be better off one day with his father –no matter how shallow that man might be –than stuck with her.
She knew the kind of man the playboy was. He would take interest for a while, and after the novelty of being a father waved off, would quickly become disinterested in getting actually involved. Hopefully, Bruce Wayne would come to that realization sooner than later, and Diana could distract Hip with something else. After all, she didn't want to give her son a father he couldn't rely on, and no matter how genuinely upset he sounded earlier, she didn't believe Bruce Wayne would be up to the task.
She watched the car slowly disappear into the upcoming traffic. Bruce and she had exchanged phone numbers before Hip followed the man obediently. She just hoped he wouldn't get attached too quickly. Hip could get upset upon the death of a cat he'd pet an hour earlier and he was comfortable around Bruce, in spite of his initial shyness. Her son had good instincts when it came to people. Had he hidden away from Bruce and refused to speak to him at all, Diana wouldn't have let them alone and screw the Chimera.
She briefly closed her eyes, regaining her purpose, and turned her back, ready to face a new challenge. She had a handful of hours to locate the Chimera before that discussion with her potential client, and hopefully, enough time to hunt her down before having to pick up Hip tonight.