Many thanks for the review in the last chapter. Last week has been crazy, so no review reply this time...I'll do better next time^^"
Son
10
Languages had never been Bruce's forte, but he was glad he had persevered. Security had been reluctant, but after many arguments and perhaps the veiled threats of a powerful man, Bruce was brought in the security room with access to the cameras. While the response time had displeased him, he was glad to notice that the surveillance system covered most -if not all areas of the airport.
He immediately scanned every screen with the speed of the Bat. A few minutes later, he swore that should he ever put his hands on the little boy, he would somehow pin a tracer on him. Diana would definitively agree after this little stunt. His frustration grew every second, and even the employees trying to help by pointing out a random child did not help.
"Pickpocket Hall A, le type avec un sweat rouge et la petite valise noire."
Security kept sending and receiving information, managing the good functioning of the place. Bruce barely paid attention to the announcements, until somewhat, one caught his attention.
"Hall B, la bonne femme au manteau marron et pantalon noir, un peu rousse. Je crois qu'elle suit le type qui porte son gamin."
His eyes landed on the screen by accident as he followed the agents' directions. And he froze. He knew that woman, though he had never spoken to her before. Lois Lane, star reporter at the Daily Planet, kickass instinct when a story was in the making. Who was she following? His eyes drifted towards the man carrying a child. Bruce froze.
"That's Hippolyte," he blurted. "The boy -le garçon, there." He pointed at the screen where this stranger was carrying his son away. "Where -Où est-ce?"
Security immediately reacted, sent a message through the radio to the closest team. Bruce picked up his phone and dialed Diana.
"Hall B," he immediately said. "Some guy is taking him. Don't act rashly Diana, we will get him."
"I'll be there," she replied, and the anger in her tone almost made him shiver.
The familiarity of acting under pressure brought him back to the present easily. He eyed the man heading towards the exit, the security team approaching, and then -Hippolyte started struggling, and the man darted outside.
Fuck.
"Where is this leading?" he barked to the closest security agent, before repeating his question in French. The answer was hastily given, almost as an afterthought. He dialed Diana again, cursed once more when she didn't pick up, and hurried out of the office. According to the plan of the airport, their man had to cross at least one huge parking before reaching the outside. Security was on his tail now, and he doubted Hippolyte would let himself be taken away so easily now that he had been spotted. What the heck was that boy thinking?
He hurriedly cut through in the staff's corridors and joined the outside parking fast. Just in time to hear a man cursing and a child shouting. He took off in the direction, heart pounding and forcefully focused. He did not want to think of how this situation reminded him of Jason's last night. He had not been there to witness his ordeal, could only imagine the torture the teenage boy had to suffer before dying.
Breathe, he thought, Hip is not taken by the Joker.
Hip was not taken by the Joker, but his kidnapper had boldly snatched him in the morning in plain sight. Bruce suspected a spur of the moment decision. Although, why Hippolyte? Had he been the target? Had he stood at the wrong place and the wrong time? Or had he been chosen on purpose? And if he had, was the true target him, or Diana?
Not the time, he thought further and headed where he thought he had heard the cry coming from. The parking was rather empty, the rows of cars of various shapes and sizes barely hindered his view. He saw from afar a troop of men chasing after a single one. Alone.
Son
Even though the full security team had gone and charged, Lois had decided to follow and speeded after them. Now that he had been recognized, the boy was yelling raw and struggling harder. The man was clearly losing his ground and patience. Thirty seconds into running, he tossed the child on the ground and took off faster. Let the patrol get the bad guy, she thought as she immediately headed to the boy's side; she was a journalist, not the police. An agent had remained behind while the others went on. When she arrived, she saw no trace of the boy, and the officer was crouched on the ground, peeking underneath a monstrous SUV.
Lois knelt in turn, ignoring the stare of disbelief of the other man. The little boy had indeed crawled underneath the huge surface and was currently staring back at her. He was a cute kid, with those big blue eyes and mope of dark hair. He also looked ready to stick to his place for a long time. Not that she could blame him.
"Madame, veuillez vous éloigner."
"I'm not his kidnapper," she snapped. The man narrowed his eyes at her, which she completely ignored to glance underneath the car and say: "The bad man is gone, you can come out now."
The boy blinked slowly and did not bulge. He wasn't crying, which was a start. Damn, she thought, where was his mother? Hadn't she been the lady shouting earlier? Just as the question crossed her mind, a woman joined them. Lois barely had a chance to glance at her before she knelt, snapping something along the lines of 'I'm his mother' in French to the security agent, and glimpsed under the car in turn.
"Hippolyte," she started, and if she hadn't heard the anguish in her voice earlier, Lois would have pegged her almost indifferent. No, not indifferent. Steady, calm. Posed. What the child needed. "Hippolyte, you can come out."
The boy mumbled something.
"Hippolyte, you will have to speak louder."
"Can't come out," was his reply.
The woman did not bulge.
"Will you tell me why?"
The boy's head shook negatively.
"Is it something the man said?"
No move.
"Hippolyte," the woman went on: "You cannot hide underneath the car forever."
"Not forever, just for a bit," he countered stubbornly. The woman went on:
"We have a long day ahead, and you were going to have fun with Mister Bruce this afternoon because I have to work." When the boy still didn't move, the woman said on a harder tone: "I swear Hip, I will lift the car if I have to."
Lois stared blankly at her. The security agent was now speaking in his walkie-talkie. She was so distracted that she did not hear the newcomer until he was upon them.
"Is he alright?"
The boy's head snapped up and bumped against the car. He moaned in pain. The woman looked up and narrowed her eyes at the man. When Lois followed her gaze, she did a double take. She had never met him face to face, but the pictures in the tabloids and his reputation preceded him. He was tall. He was broad. He was really, really handsome. And he was looking at them with surprising worry.
"Miss Lane," he greeted tardily.
Bruce Wayne. The Prince of Gotham-wait, how did he know her name?
"Mister Bruce is here?" Hippolyte asked hopefully. An odd expression came on the woman's face.
"Yes, he is here."
"Okay. I'll come out."
The child crawled from underneath the car and readily accepted being pulled into his mother's arms. The grip-vice he held her with reassured Lois that he indeed trusted her, and was just waiting for the newcomer to arrive. Lois glanced, once again, at the Prince of Gotham.
"Your reputation is well-known in some places," he replied to her unasked question. "When I saw you tailing them through the airport on the cameras, I knew we had them." He glanced at the woman. The two exchanged a stare that Lois did not interpret.
"He looked scared," she said instead, focusing on the current situation. "I didn't want to take any chances, in case…What was going on?"
Bruce Wayne shifted his attention back on her.
"I don't know. I hope they'll catch him and we'll find out."
The security agent suddenly spoke up.
"Parlez-vous français?" he asked, the tone of his voice somewhere between stern and attempting to be gentle.
The woman stood, still holding the child in her arms, and replied that she did. Lois took her first good look at her. She was exceedingly beautiful, tall and slim with olive skin. The kind of woman Bruce Wayne would hook up with. Her thoughts lingered on the child speculatively. The boy's head was turned towards her, not looking at her though, his lashes slowly blinking. Then, she stared at Bruce Wayne's face. Well shit, Lois thought, no wonder why he's involved. It took her a moment to realize his expression had turned completely neutral.
"I have much better stories to cover in the Artic, and a last-minute train ticket to book for England," she suddenly blurted. While she was not easily impressed, especially by the riches, there was something in Bruce Wayne's demeanor that hinted she should keep what she had just witness to herself. He was, after all, a very powerful man and had the means to make her life a living hell. Had a scandal been involved, it would have not deterred her. But a child? That was his personal business, and tabloids did the snooping into private life well enough on their own.
"Make it first class and put it on my tab," he replied, as if a three hundred bucks ticket was not a big investment. Which, in retrospect, really wasn't. It also probably was a small bribe to ensure her silence. Not that she would speak, especially after promising not to, but after the long day, Lois wasn't above a comfortable trip.
The other woman came closer, still holding her son.
"They want to take our statement. The other man was arrested." Dark eyes turned towards her. "We should hurry. It would not do for Miss Lane to miss her train," a small, amused smile grew on her face. "The French are well known to take their time with administration."
Lois huffed and thought it was a shame she was indeed in a hurry. The woman seemed to have some sense of humor. Or perhaps she was trying to focus on something else. Hippolyte would not escape her grasp with how tight she held him. She followed them back to the airport, wondering if she would ever meet them again.
Son
The ride back to Diana's apartment was made in unusual silence. She drove alone, while Bruce and Hip were sharing the back seats. Her son had almost demanded that their guest keep him company, which told her he was more rattled than he let it show. Diana felt quite rattled too, although for a different reason.
Bruce was giving his statement to the police, oddly serious, and subtly attempting to interrogate the man in return. Diana took advantage of the moment to ask the very first question that had plagued her mind ever since spotting her son about to be kidnapped.
"Why did you not scream when the man took you away?" she asked quietly in Greek. Hippolyte spoke French and English fluently, but she was slowly teaching him her mother tongue. If there was a true reason for this action, she did not want people to overhear.
"He was looking at you," Hip replied, his voice muffled in her neck. "He looked mean too. He said 'you'll do' when he came to me." Pause. "You don't like attention, mother, so I didn't scream."
Diana bit her lower lip, guilt and anger slowly spreading in her stomach.
"You should have," she whispered. "I don't like attention, but I like losing you even less. I can handle a little attention if it means you are safe."
"You and Mister Bruce were here," he muttered. "I am safe."
She closed her eyes and inhaled shakily. She had been truthful when she had told Bruce she would shake off a life of anonymity if it meant protecting Hippolyte. Unfortunately, her son had caught that she would rather stay in the shadows. Instead, he trusted her to save him in case things went wrong. It unsettled her. So far, she had protected him -anticipated the dangers before they truly happened. Today, she had been reacting. She hated it.
The feeling of being watched itched her until she crossed Bruce's worried gaze. He had trained his adoptive sons to handle themselves against the criminals in Gotham. One day, Hippolyte will have to be taught the same.
'You alright?' he mouthed.
Diana almost nodded, almost pretended her emotions was under control. Her eyes must have betrayed her, for he only nodded and returned his attention towards the security team.
She parked in her allotted spot and descended. Bruce had packed light and followed her holding his luggage in one hand, the other holding Hip's hand. Her son reached for her other hand and all three walked together to the entrance. Her apartment was set in a cozy neighborhood, near an important metro station. She had a private parking space in an inner courtyard –which had been an important criterion in her choice. The building itself was clean and well-maintained
They came across Mrs. Gisbon swiping the inside yard. Diana honestly liked the elderly woman. She was of Irish descent, having married a Frenchman decades before settling as a housekeeper. She had been there to welcome them when they had settled and had quickly fallen for Hippolyte's charms.
"Look at these eyes! This little lad will break hearts," she had told Diana with certainty.
Still, she was one outrageous gossip and would undoubtedly question the presence of the tall, handsome man accompanying her. Not to mention, Mrs. Gisbon had tried to play matchmaker before.
"You are far too much young and handsome to stay alone, dear. You need to find yourself a nice lad. Your boy will give you trouble growing up. Your two hands won't be enough, mark my words. What do you think of Monsieur Dupont on the third floor? He comes to visit every few days. I could introduce you."
So Diana felt slightly apprehensive for her to meet Bruce so early on. The elderly woman smiled brightly when she saw them approach, and even brighter when she spotted Bruce.
"Well Diana dear, I do not have to worry for you after all!" she blurted happily.
Diana felt her cheeks heat while Hippolyte introduced their guest as 'Mister Bruce'.
"He's a friend of mother!" the little boy went. "He's very tall but he's very nice."
She heard Bruce clear his throat and speak in turn:
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Gisbon."
The woman's cheeks flushed a little, and Diana glanced at him. Oh dear, it seemed that Bruce had turn on the charming smile. Hip had the same when he tried to talk himself out of trouble. The effect was not quite the same on a full-grown man…far more fetching.
"Dear, I must be holding you back," the housekeeper eventually said. "Please do go in, and have a pleasant stay in Paris."
The awkward introductions were finally over and Diana led them to the stairs. Hippolyte race ahead, up the second floor and beamed in pride at having reached the door first. He was fidgeting, impatient to finally be able to show his domain to their guest. Diana could not help but tease him by taking her time in finding the keys. Given the subtle glare he eventually shot her, she had been made. Once the door opened, Hippolyte immediately lashed upon Bruce and pulled him inside.
"Here, here, I'll show you were you sleep tonight!" he said excitedly.
"Let the poor man arrive Hippolyte," Diana said with an amused smile. "Give me your coat –there are slippers, Hippolyte picked them just for you."
Her smile slightly widened when the tall man contemplated the bright brown slippers with the cute pink bow on top.
"Come on Mister Bruce!" her son insisted even more impatiently.
Diana could only chuckle as her son dragged the full grown man across their living-room. Her smile fell when the two disappeared up the stairs leading to the guest room. She was not actress, but the fake smile she had been wearing was starting to tire her. The clock was ticking close to twelve thirty already, as they had been delayed at the airport. She ought to leave for work soon.
After this morning, she really didn't want to.
She stepped towards her couch and inelegantly fell into the comfy cushions. She rested back and closed her eyes briefly. Hippolyte's words –you don't like attention –reminded her he was far more mature than most children his age. Was she wrong to teach him to be discreet? Should she let him looser sometimes?
She felt his presence before hearing him –Bruce did not walk, he glided.
"Diana, how are you really?" he asked, concern clear. When she turned around and failed to spot her son, he added: "Hip is washing his hands."
"Good," she mumbled absentmindedly. "I'm –I'll be alright. Hip doesn't get in trouble every day. It's always rattling when it happens."
"I'll try to get more information while Hip is sleeping," Bruce replied. "I don't like navigating in the dark."
"No, I'll handle that." She cut him. "Gotham is your territory Bruce; Paris is mine. I have my own friends who will be able to make enquiries far more discreetly than you."
The man huffed, and she couldn't help but smile at the familiar frowning face.
"I think you underestimate my reputation. I am Bruce Wayne, and Bruce Wayne would like to know what the fuck happened with the child of a dear friend."
"Keep going on like that, I give the tabloids three days to find out about your tie with Hip."
"Would it be so bad?"
Diana opened her mouth to insist that yes, it would not be great, because she fled the spotlight. And then she remembered that the same flight of spotlight almost cost her Hippolyte. And Bruce…she knew Bruce wanted to be closer to his son. He sat next to her without prompting. Diana stared at the carpet.
"I don't know," she admitted. "I usually stay a decade at one place before moving, to avoid questions. I have only been in Paris for two years. Maybe it would be wiser to move. Hippolyte thinks that man was after me."
He tensed and narrowed his eyes.
"You did not recognize him?"
Diana huffed and shook her head.
"No. I have enemies –you can't live a century in man's world without making at least one enemy. I know people who handle highly sensitive information. Perhaps the threat comes from them." She would have to speak to Mo and Kareen. "I hope they can trace him back. I want to know the bottom of this too."
Bruce said nothing. Instead, he reached out and put his hand over hers. They were large, she realized, large and warm. When they eyes met, she thought he looked…softer, perhaps.
"We'll find out what's going on. You know I won't let anything happen to Hip."
You and Mister Bruce were here, I am safe, Hippolyte had said. Well, Diana had to admit, having the Bat of Gotham as an extra watcher did have some advantages.
"I'm glad you are here," she said eventually.
She did not miss the brightening of his eyes, neither the very subtle, happy, lift of his mouth. And when Hip ran down the stairs, speaking loudly to gain their attention, she definitively did not miss the flutter in her chest when he squeezed his fingers lightly before releasing her and joining their son.