BATMAN

SHALL WE DANCE?

Synopsis

At what lengths will Bruce Wayne go to make amends?

Note

This first chapter was written as a one-shot for The Bludhaven Yahoo Group's Summer Tournament, Round 1 a handful of years ago. Additions and modifications to Chapter One and subsequent chapters will be first posted here in

Disclaimer

I do not own Batman or any other characters involving the Bat Family. This fic, however, is mine. Enjoy!

"This is stupid - OWWWW!"

Alfred straightened himself after slapping Bruce across the back of the head. "That's for stepping on my foot!"

"I only stepped on you once, and it was an accident! And what's with hitting me?"

"You've been stepping on me for the past hour and counting. That second one's for uttering the word stupid, Master Bruce. That along with your behavior has pushed me to the wall. Now focus!" said a stiff-lipped Alfred after he deliberately stomped on Bruce's right foot to get the latter's attention and cooperation. He drew Bruce into a closed embrace, their chests touching.

Bruce threw a death glare.

Alfred, in customary nonchalance, ignored Bruce's piercing glare and added, "There's more where that came from. Care for more...?"

Dick, who had been walking around and examining Bruce's movements on all angles, interchanged his desire to cringe while letting out a sigh. His lips pursed a bit. After shaking his head, he said, "We told you to stiffen up for a perfect frame. From here, it looks like Alfred threw you in along with your shirts for a good starching. You're as stiff as a board. Not graceful at all. "

"I know how to dance, remember?" retorted Bruce, this time bequeathing his death glare to an unaffected and very-much-amused Dick Grayson. "You talk as if you know how to do every ballroom dance style."

"I do, and so does Selina," said Dick with a quiet yet confident smile. "And I'm not the student – you are. You may be great at the waltz, but the Tango is a whole different ball of wax."

"Yes, you waltz. You haven't done the Tango, and definitely not the Argentine Tango. I know because you wouldn't be so scattered if you have done it before," quipped Alfred, his hand once again correcting Bruce's frame from behind. "Frankly, Master Bruce, you need to be more graceful...gentlemanly..."

Bruce's glare became sharper still. "I am being gentlemanly."

"You move and behave like an oaf, young man!" Alfred once again straightened Bruce's frame, this time doing it much more forcefully. "And focus!"

"It's hard to focus! I'm counting my steps while you're talking to me, pushing my back, and slapping my head!" Bruce said through gritted teeth, toning down his irritation as he saw Alfred meet his glare with equal defiance.

"Since when did the great multi-tasker get so easily distracted?" asked Dick, trying to hide his disbelief and amusement. "Alfie's right. This dance requires the man to ooze gentlemanly grace as he leads the woman through the dance."

Bruce felt as if his head had swollen three times its size. He knew that Alfred was upset with him these past few weeks due to Selina. He did not like the fact that he was the "woman" in these dance instruction sessions until he learned the rudiments. He could not see Dick's point on why this endeavor would be worthwhile. He was uncomfortable knowing that the figures represented in the Argentine Tango were criminals, namely the pimp and the prostitute. He was kicking himself for volunteering into something that turned out much harder than he thought it would be. He had this innate urge to pummel the figurative pimp in the Argentine Tango.

Whatever it was, the anger festered within him...and so Bruce raised his eyebrow and deadpanned, "What's so gentlemanly and graceful about a pimp roughing up a prostitute for all to see? Why would this be the perfect dance?"

Dick, unable to hold back his chuckle, said a few seconds later to a now extremely frustrated Bruce, "Because the 'prostitute' in the dance isn't a pushover. She has an equal amount of aggression to let out, much as the pimp does... The exchange between the two as they dance...well, it's..."

"And you think that's romantic?" Bruce quipped, his tone teeming with sarcasm.

"Romantic, if done right by any couple. You and Selina? Steamy and romantic, to say the least... You do a good waltz, but only a few could do an excellent Argentine Tango with their partners…and Selina's a good dancer." Dick let out a sigh, recalling his telephone conversation with a very irritated Selina. "If you don't get this dance right, you'll see yourself being replaced by a true oaf."

"Harvey Bullock, for example…or other charmers who've been following Miss Kyle with their eyes," Alfred interjected.

Bruce raised an eyebrow, his eyes widening. He stopped dancing for a couple of seconds, glancing at Dick. He then reeled his feelings back in, resuming the dance while quipping, "She won't. She's not stupid, and she has taste."

"Care to gamble on that, partner?" asked Dick, his eyes focused on Bruce. "She can, and she will if you don't do something about it. Guess what? She's feeling absolutely stupid right now for putting up with you. And you're not a charmer dancing if you have two left feet. Do you have a mental block when it comes to the Tango, let alone the Argentine Tango?"

"She wouldn't dare."

"You stood her up three times. Three times…" countered Dick. "I'm not innocent, either. I stood up on my share of dates, but at least I showed remorse. You, on the other hand? Not even a little bit, especially these last three consecutive times."

"And why is she complaining to you about it? Why doesn't she call me and settle it between us?" growled Bruce.

Dick shook his head, amazed and wondering on the lengths and height that Bruce's stubbornness could soar. "She might be used to your warm, fuzzy personality and all...but that was cold, even coming from you. Being stood up three times, not getting any apology for all three times each time that it happened, and then being blown up on after pointing out that the last-minute cancellations were far too often and becoming hurtful? She's not a saint, you know."

"And you're saying?"

"She just had it. Period."

"Had it?" Bruce asked with an eyebrow raised, while Alfred led him to a dip. "What do you mean by 'had it?'"

"She's fed up, Bruce. How many ways do you want me to spell it out to you?"

Dick let out a disappointed sigh after a long pause, his mind's eye seeing the bevy of women that have come and gone in Bruce's life since he was a child. "You really need to work on your interpersonal skills. Just because Selina knows who you are, with or without your respective cowls, that doesn't give you the excuse to take her feelings for granted. As tough as nails as she is, she's still a woman and a human being with feelings. Last time I checked, you're a man and human too…so I think you still have feelings in there, too."

"Who are you, her lawyer?" spat Bruce, voice raised as his temper flared up even worse than it did before. "And of course, I understand that she has feelings! You two make me sound as if I'm such an insensitive prick!"

"You're lucky that at least Selina's talking to one of us in the family," quipped Dick as his own temper rose, his eyes narrowing and not backing down whatsoever from Bruce's intimidation. "And speaking of 'she,' you're being a fucking jerk and an insensitive prick. My words, not hers. Maybe Alfie's, but he's too much of a proper gentleman to say those words."

Dick tried his best to reel his temper in, and when he felt that he calmed down a bit, he continued with a much gentler tone, "Bruce… For the past hour-and-a-half and counting since this dance lesson started… Hell, since you two have argued days ago, you have never mentioned Selina's name – not even once. You kept using the word her and she. Why? Will it kill you to do that? Will it be an admission of fault if you mention her by name?"

Bruce lost his focus and stepped on Alfred's toe once more. He thought that he was ready to defend himself and so he blocked Alfred's first effort to slap him across the head, only to fail in avoiding the second one.

"I bet that if you calm down and screw your head straight, you'll nail this," said Dick after letting out another sigh. "Would it hurt your ego too much to admit that you need help in certain areas? Hell, even I have to remind you to at least take a shower and a shave before you go on a date with Selina. Sure she knows you just came from patrol, but that's no excuse to not be your best for her."

"You laugh about Harvey Bullock? An oaf is a much better alternative than a dashing gentleman, especially if the oaf gives her the time, respect, and affection that she deserves. I thought that I raised you better than how you're behaving." Alfred, now visibly angry, spat as he straightened Bruce's frame once again. "Focus, or I'll follow Miss Kyle's stead. I'll walk out on this instruction, and she'll walk out of your life."

The dance stopped, with Bruce staring at Alfred. Once reality had set in his bones, he glanced at Dick and then focused on Alfred. In a near whisper, he said, "I'm trying. I really am..."

Alfred calmed down considerably, the commanding tone that he had taken earlier now softening to a fatherly one. "I need more effort from you, Master Bruce. You must, if you don't want Miss Kyle to slip through your fingers."

After the silence, Bruce said, "May we stop for now... I need a break..."

"And after that...?" quipped a nearly-resigned and very-much frustrated Alfred, his eyebrow raised while asking the question.

Bruce looked at Alfred, his rich tone calm and conciliatory. "I still want to learn... Short break...15 minutes...then resume rehearsal... All right with you two?"

Alfred and Dick exchanged glances, then respectively gave Bruce a nod.

End of Chapter One