Did you expect another part this soon? I didn't; it just happened.
Shout out to my dearest ThreeDamnDots, who works every day to get my sorry ass writing. She is the one who makes it all happen folks! I'm just the medium.
Thanks, Bee!
As always, review responses at the end.
R&R!
Sculptor, or shaping the future one day at a time.
In which a bloom of soft and gentle hue emerges from its bud.
Part 3
The Flower
Acrid and bitter smoke soured saliva in her mouth. Helena watched as the cigarette burned out steadily under the strong wind, ash eating away at the paper encompassing the tobacco. Slowly, steadily, red flow of the heat relentlessly advancing forward, heralded with a tell-tale wave of warmth on her fingers. She inhaled the last drag and extinguished the butt.
Her throat was still a bit raw, and the tang of smoke didn't help to mitigate it. It did wonders to her nerves though, and she clung to that thought.
Once more Bane hurt her; unwittingly this time, but it still counted. And she couldn't hold it against him.
And it bothered her. A lot.
He was sorry, she believed that. But how could she build a relationship, her future, again on the shaky pillars of want and dreams? The reality was simple, they were both damaged; he way more than her. Did she have it in her to help him through? She wanted to, but could she really endure another attack in the middle of the night, another hallucination episode, another argument over what was before?
Patch of freshly turned soil caught her eye. His back hurt lately, but still he helped her without a complaint. Placated her after the talk with the DHS agent. She still felt pleasant throb of muscle after last night, a tingle of stretched muscles a very welcome reminder of an excellent bout of sex. All sex was good, but with Bane it was different, special in a way she couldn't really pinpoint. It wasn't his technique or size, nothing as simple and superficial like that. Whatever he did to her body paled in comparison with what he made her feel.
She shuddered under cold wind and went back down the sloping path.
It was nearly a month. Almost thirty days of angsting over and over, always about the same thing. She scoffed angrily, impatient with her own weakness. She made her decision already. It was time to hold up her end of the arrangement.
The mercenary she once loved was in the past. Her friend was in the past.
Her future was the man currently living in the neighbouring cottage.
Her pace was slow but steady, head bowed to try and recognise any irregularities in the path that could hinder her, a difficult task to achieve with only moonlight as her sole light source. This night was stretching in infinity, a never-ending pocket of darkness bringing out their fears under feeble protection of shadows, sure to be dispelled in few hours' time. Not yet, though. Not before they cleared the air completely.
The walk through silent and unlit rooms and corridor reminded her of that one evening when Bane asked her to come to him, waiting in a darkened chamber. The first time he ever let her touch his face, kiss him, experience him as a whole man. An inferno of a day it was; heavenly at first, then descending rapidly deeper and deeper into an abyss of dread. He was as unstable as she then; she didn't know. Didn't suspect the battles he had to endure day after day.
She knew now.
Door to his bedroom was still ajar, just as she left it, the man was still lying in bed. On his side now instead of propped with his back to the headboard. He seemed so much smaller, so much more human. Fragile.
Rustle of her clothes was the only sound above the ever-present swooshing of the wind. She slithered between the covers only in her panties. Wordlessly she ran her cold palms over him, either on each side of his stomach, and then further to the middle of his back, bringing them so close their foreheads could touch with barest tilt of their heads.
"I was angry at you because I felt left alone for so long," she started.
Bane put his left palm on her cheek and laid there, listening.
"I was confused at first because I didn't want to miss you. I almost killed myself to get away and then when I was free, I dreamt of getting back, of finding you to explain why, of begging to be close to you again. Even for a little while. Then I set on making myself happy. There were many attempts, some more successful than others. David, Nicklaus, Karim, Andrei, Georges. Some others, some for one night. I was looking for peace and couldn't grasp what I needed. I tried being alone, too. Friendship with Dorrance was getting me close, but it still wasn't enough."
She drew in a long and shaky breath in preparation.
"I never told him, you, about what I was going through. You could read between the lines maybe, but only while we were speaking. How often was it? Once every month, two or three sometimes?" She closed her eyes and knitted her brows, putting his hand from her face to her belly. "Do you feel this scar? It's too fresh to be the same one from Armenia, right?"
Bane rose on his elbow, forcing Helena to her back as he slid the covers down to inspect her skin.
"What happened to you?"
"I was very, very ill not so long ago. About that time when Dorrance, you", she corrected again, impatient, "were avoiding me. I have to check up if it's still okay regularly. That's why Sven made Grace come to see if I was okay. I missed my last appointments."
"What happened to you?" He repeated, desperate and confused.
"Hysterectomy. Partial. I had cancer."
He was shell-shocked by the news.
"It's okay now, and when I learnt about it, everything went down pretty fast. Didn't leave me much time to be truly afraid. I think the surgery was not even a month from when the doctor found that something's wrong. I was home few days after. Grace visited frequently to cheer me up. I was working as usual. The only real problem was the silence from you."
She looked up at him, measuring his reaction.
"It's over and done with. I just wanted you to understand how much baggage I still have over what happened during the last decade. I understand you have yours; in time I hope we will be able to work through it all. For now I want to just be with you. Without hiding anything, without suppressing negative feelings until they burst."
A tentative nudge was all it took for Bane to lay back down again, letting Helena cradle him close just like before.
"Did your sister help?"
"No, I never told her about it. We're not that close anymore."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Dorrance was a friend. A guy who was fun and nice, but who always kept his distance. The demarcation line was clear and wide enough to be impossible to breach without his help."
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"I didn't tell this to make you apologize. Do you hear me?"
She made him look her straight into her eyes, an angry and solemn expression stark contrast to the feelings pouring out of her voice.
"I want you to understand why. If you need anything more from me, just ask. And I want to understand what makes you unhappy and incomplete too, so then I can do something about it. But we need to be honest and clear the air around us and try hard. Because it won't be easy for either of us. Right?"
He nodded, a minute smile passing over his lips at her commanding tone.
"I always protected those who were close to me. Even with my life, I was prepared to do anything it took. I thought I was protecting you then, when I kept you in the dark. Then, I was staying away to shield you from what was about to come, from the apocalypse in Gotham."
"You wanted to die?" Her voice was small, but steady.
"For a while. I was prepared to die. And then I was prepared to live. Thanks to you."
He relaxed into her palms stroking up and down his back, lulling him into warmth and comfort of her embrace.
"I failed. My little girl died. You almost followed, unbeknownst to me. I thought I was the master of what was happening, keeping every string in my hands, when in reality I was the puppet myself. I let emotions blind me. Talia was scheming her own death on top of my plans; she wanted the whole city dead with her. I knew, but deluded myself into thinking I could change her mind in the last second. Or drag her to safety against her will. And you, you were suffering in silence, taking your life into your own hands. Just like you did back then, in the monastery. I always admired how goal-oriented you were when pushed to the limit. You're so pliable and weak at a first glance. But elusive. Like water, filling the boundaries if they're impenetrable but chasing the escape as soon as the slightest crack appears. I admire that. I admire lots of things about you."
There was a moment of silence between them, a complete and utter peace and quiet over the house. Even the wind stopped for a while and the eerie calm settled gradually, like dust falling in place after a fight. Helena never stopped the mesmerizing movement of her hand, palm sliding over Banes skin, over bumps and ridges, again and again in the most basic of comforting gestures.
His low voice was barely above a whisper, audible only because they were so close their breaths mingled in the dark space between them.
"I used to protect Talia, holding her like this. Even in my sleep, especially in my sleep, looking over her. Shielding from harm."
Tears streaked down the tops of his cheeks and nose, gathering in a small stain on the pillow.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry I'm beaten and damaged and worthless now. I'm sorry I never stopped to listen in time."
"We will get through this, together," Helena implored. Determination glistened in her eyes when she gathered his face in her palms. "I will show you how I see you. And you will be, for once in your life, content and complete."
She pressed a hot, insistent kiss on his closed lips, then followed it with a quick succession of chaste pecks all over his face.
"Sleep now," she ordered, pressing her lips to his closed eyelids. "I will look over you."
oOo
Two hours passed with Helena looking over Bane's sleeping form. There were so many familiar things about it; but so much more unfamiliar. She could do it now whenever she wanted. No one would come and escort her back to a small room, solitary quarters fit only for work and sleep. He would never make her imagine how he looked, his face now barren of the dreadful mask.
There were scars she half-remembered and she traced them with her eyes; lest she woke him up if she did that with pads of her fingers. Some she thought that should be there, on his neck and torso, that weren't there. Either covered with other more serious marks or just a figment of her imagination. She studied him leisurely, from the top of his dirty blond mop of hair with silvery streaks here and there, to the hem of the duvet shielding his stomach and legs. It was an absorbing activity and surprisingly enjoyable. Maybe because Bane didn't snore.
She smiled and eventually settled her head back on the pillow, letting the cramped muscles in her arm and neck stretch out and rest.
The air in the room seemed lighter and fresher than before or she could finally breathe easier. As if the proverbial rock was lifted up from her chest. So many things were left unsaid between them it felt impossible to breach the ravine. But they weren't at the bottom, they were at the top, at cliffs overlooking a pass, and the bridge was already drawn between them. They only needed to reinforce it and widen the path.
A doable task.
Bane stirred slightly and yawned, a mumbled greeting escaping along with a sigh.
"Any plans for today?" she asked, smiling warmly down at him.
He shook his head and shifted closer, hiding his face into her chest, making her laugh.
"You're such a bum."
He wasn't, she was the first to acknowledge how hard working and self-driven he was. Still, it was cute how he chose to just linger in bed with her. Helena on the other hand was slowly developing bed sores.
"I should get a job," she said, a sudden realization startling even for her.
Bane twisted to look at Helena, amused smirk shyly blooming on his lips.
"Whatever for?"
"Structure mostly. Believe it or not some people do it for the money. I've got a friend, Anna, you'll meet her at Grace's on Easter, she's a teacher in a local school here and she has been pestering me about organizing handwriting lessons for kids. Young teenagers, so I declined initially, obviously. Who needs that drama? But now, come to think of it, I might use a steady source of income and the mundane repetition of scheduled activity sounds pretty compelling. I've been mulling over myself long enough as it is…"
"You need money?" Bane interrupted, rising slightly in alarm.
"I've depleted my savings quite a bit over last few years and I haven't worked since your last assignment. In May last year, I think. I'm not broke yet, but I have to start doing something about at least my day-to-day expenses."
He let her soothe him back down to where he was before, but it was obvious he was still ill at ease.
"I'll give you what you need."
With a small smile she linked their fingers and raised his right palm to her lips.
"I'll manage on my own. Structure, remember? Besides, I can't be depending on you on everything, that was going on for too long as it is."
"I want to provide for you."
"Aren't your savings getting smaller? Come to think of it, where do you, as Dorrance, get your money from?"
"I had some awards granted and accolades."
"That's hardly sufficient for all this, let alone all other places you said you own."
"Before being a physicist Dorrance was dealing in antiquities."
"Huh."
"Every penny on my personal accounts is legal, if that's what you were wondering about."
That was a curious bit of information. Helena mused over the thought for a while.
"I was, yeah. Antiques. That explains the manuscript."
Bane hummed.
"Are you rich?"
The question was rapid and sounded almost as if she couldn't help herself. He chuckled, snuggling a bit closer; a bear in the arms of a rabbit. He seemed content.
"I have enough for both of us to be comfortable."
"Huh." Helena smoothed her unrestricted hand down his neck and shoulders, feeling the now familiar scars. "That's nice."
"Indeed."
They enjoyed tranquillity of just being there, safe and calm in the moment. Sleep wasn't an option and the day slowly crept upon them, so eventually Helena sighed and untangled carefully.
"Let's get some breakfast," she said.
He hummed an affirmation.
Trekking silently through an unlit corridor they brushed hands, tentatively reestablishing the connection frayed by Bane's earlier outburst. In the living room Helena made him stop and admire with her the hue of the sky brightening in the east, a lovely shade of Prussian blue fading into thin azure line and then budding brilliance of lilacs. Soon there would be a golden shine on the water, but for now the sea was black and still, on the brink of the new day.
They stood still for a while, basking in tranquillity of dawn, shielded against morning cold with warmth of their bodies, Bane's strong shoulders loosely wrapped around Helena's back, her head resting comfortably on his clavicle.
"I love you," she murmured, contentment spreading like a warm current around her body, "I think I always have."
She smiled when she felt Bane press a chaste kiss to her hair. This was perfect, the calmness and safety palpable even though their earlier altercation was a tempest of bad feelings and painful memories. Whatever would happen they were in it together, she reminded herself.
Disentangling with a sigh she stroked his biceps, a fleeting, teasing touch.
"What would you like to eat?"
He leered, making Helena sneer in amusement over implied suggestion.
"Too soon. I was asking food-wise this time."
He chuckled, following her down two steps to kitchen area.
"We have some bread, but it will be stale by now. French toast?"
"Nah, I don't feel like anything sweet." She frowned, rummaging through the cupboards. Her eyes lit up with satisfaction and she exclaimed shortly, pulling out a packet and presenting it to Bane.
"Let's have rice and miso soup, what do you say?"
"Okay." He smiled, enjoying her little happy dance when she fished out additional ingredients she liked.
"I'll wash the rice and put it on. In the meantime you could get your meditation out of the way."
"Out of the way?"
She turned to the sink, already elbows deep into a big bowl filled with rice and cold water.
"It takes time. I thought it would be efficient to do it now, instead of after breakfast."
"You're right."
There was a detachment in his tone, neutrality that was too obvious, making Helena shake her head.
"Are you reading into what I just said?"
"Perhaps."
"And what are your conclusions, huh?"
"Your tone suggested you have something against it." He knew that what he heard was there, but perhaps she didn't realize it herself. A shadow of resentment, a glimmer of anger.
"My tone." She sighed. There was no way they could jump-start trust and knowledge of their feelings instantly, even with all the talking they did that night. "Okay. What did my words tell you?"
"That you want me to get it over with." The implication was clear. He knew she wasn't a fan of this activity.
"Give me benefit of a doubt please, and assume I'm not trying to mindfuck you every time I speak?"
Maybe she was just unsure of what was he doing when he went away to meditate? The assumption that he hid something from her wouldn't be totally unfounded; while she never hinted she suspected him of anything, her instincts clearly told her he was dishonest. That was impeding their communications on a subconscious level.
"You are right," he said. Then in a rare instance of spontaneity he followed it with, "I'll do it here, if you don't mind."
"Won't my cooking distract you?"
"Not more than usual."
"Oh, okay."
She stood there, an open jar forgotten in her hands, completely dumbfounded.
Smirking under his nose, Bane brought his incense and a flat pillow from his room. Helena's quick glances resulted in warm tingle along his spine every time he caught one in reflection on the glass. It was chilly beside the window, but the view was spectacular, the sunrise unfolding slowly before his very eyes, almost close enough to feel rising tension of particles heating up under onslaught of the radiant burn.
He sat on his hunches, knees spread comfortably on the floor. With a deep breath he refocused on himself instead of his surroundings. Lighting the fragrant stick to glow into an ember he exhaled, extinguishing the flame and leaving only a dull wisp of smoke floating in an ethereal thread up to the ceiling. Another breath and he felt every ache in his joints and muscles, the assaulting awareness of his diminished constitution as unpleasant as ever. He left all musings and regret on that with yet another calming inhale, feeling the sandalwood smoke filling his nose with a smooth familiarity. He watched the water, reflecting first shy sunrays, flickering and fluid, never letting him focus on one thing. His consciousness flowed and bended with the sea, expanding to fit every millimetre of the room he was in.
Beams in the ceiling creaked slightly, adjusting under never ending wrestle of the gale. The wind itself swooshed playfully along planes of glass, whistling an invitation to come out and join the fun of skimming through rocks and grasses and leaves. Back behind him Helena was stirring dashi in the pot, adding a low whisper of gas flame to the quiet melody of the morning. She hummed in the back of her throat, half aware she was doing it, making Bane smile slightly. His focus distorted and sharpened intermittently threatening to break his tranquillity, but whenever this problem arose, the ebbing and flowing lines of the sea soothed his mind.
Humid and pleasant smell of cooking rice mixed with the incense, accompanied by light, salty note of steeping soup. Any minute now Helena will add wakame, then chop scallions and gently divide tofu. He was aware of her every move, following her in his mind as she rummaged through the kitchen, no doubt in search of toppings for the rice. All at the same time he was watching her cook eggs and season tuna, enjoyed the sunrise, listened to his own heartbeat and dissolved his consciousness to a point where only the barest awareness of self was left.
He floated, elated, on the feeling of absolute harmony, present in each moment as it began, unfolded and passed, seamlessly leading him to the next one, further along in time.
"It's ready," Helena called out softly, hesitantly.
He hummed his response, confirming he heard her, letting himself enjoy the extension of vibrations this simple sound produced. He unfurled slowly, accepting back every ache and complaint his body communicated.
There was still one thing to do.
"Can you give me five minutes?"
"Sure, it's ready but can sit and wait another hour."
"Five minutes will suffice."
He went to his bedroom and observed Helena cautiously as he came back with vaporizer and a vial in hand.
"For my nerves," he joked.
Helena watched him with a little frown as he sat on the sofa, the one in her direct line of vision instead of the other that would leave her to ogle his back. Few practiced movements were all it took before he leaned back and dragged a deep puff of the vapour.
He felt the cushion dip under added weight, moved free arm to let Helena snuggle close, cradled possessively with his hand on her hip.
"What is it?"
"Pot," he said, using the same term she brought up a while back, purposefully adding a taunting lilt to his words. Despite the meditation he was coiled up in preparation, gauging every reaction she displayed.
"For the pain?"
"And the stress, yes." he supplied, relieved. Another drag went almost unnoticed, acceptance of the woman beside him as intoxicating as any drug. "I still have to inject myself with some medications and take some pills, but it's all at bearable levels."
"Bearable," she whispered.
Bane relaxed into the sofa, sighing as her palm travelled up and down his torso. The skin there was still very tender, but her touch was gentle, sliding delicately over the fabric of his t-shirt.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked, her voice small.
Bane suspected what she was thinking. He was in a good mood, not at all inclined to spoil it with another solemn talk. No point in any more of those.
"Yes. There is one thing I would benefit from and it requires a second pair of hands."
"What is it?" She perked up a bit, craned her neck to look him in the eye.
She scowled at his playful grin.
"Full body massage, with special attention on…"
"Oh, shut it," she groaned and slid away, going back to the kitchen. "I swear I'm never going to feel bad for you again."
Laughing, Bane stayed in his spot, intent on riding the pleasant and unusual rush of steady satisfaction until the very end.
Meanwhile Helena laid out their meal, grumbling under her breath all the time. She cut and arranged the twisted and layered Japanese omelette, put beside it a saucer with teared up seaweed, then another with pickled beetroot and some salad leaves, emerald green a sharp contrast to the pickle. Next was the bowl with tuna mixed with mayonnaise, sprinkled on with colourful mix of sesame, peppercorns and chili flakes. Two cups of steaming soup, miso swirling softly in its depths. Last but not least, bowls for the rice and chopsticks.
Bane sauntered slowly towards the bar, sucking in his last whizz of the medicine. He left the vaporizer on the counter and took the warm pot of steamed rice from Helena's hands, transferring it absentmindedly to the board left for that purpose. With the same fluidity of movement he turned back towards the scribe and cradled her jaw in his hands warmed slightly beyond his usual temperature. He took his time looking into her eyes, lowering slightly towards her, inhaling the smell of her body and noting every minute change in her breath, every twitch and spasm of muscle. Her hands rested lightly above his hips, thumbs stroking little circles on soft cotton of his clothes.
"Thank you for making me happy," he said simply.
The smile she gave him stilled his breath with sheer joy radiating towards him.
oOo
"Oh gods," Helena moaned.
Strolling out of the bathroom in pajama bottoms and few stray drops of water Bane looked at her questioningly.
"Grace called. That meal on Sunday will be an 'Easter Murder Mystery' brunch."
"A what?"
"Murder mystery brunch," Helena mumbled, looking awkwardly to the side.
"But why?"
"Norwegian tradition."
"Aren't they Americans?"
"Yeah, well, nobody's perfect. Not their fault anyway."
"Not what I meant. But, you know, that can be rectified."
"Yeah, I don't give a shit. Going back to mine to change. Pick me up at half past ten, okay?"
"Rendezvous 10:30, Roger that." He mock saluted and grinned, turning back to finish his morning ablutions.
The shops were open only until the early afternoon since on Thursday the Easter celebration was supposed to begin. Norway had the longest Easter holiday period in the world, and it showed in the long queues of last-minute shoppers. Helena implored Bane to stack up on everything, even though technically there would be some stores open on Saturday.
He didn't fight her too hard, especially when she failed to buy him once the mushroom of his choice. No matter if fresh shiitake were nowhere in sight, he was still cross with her for even suggesting he could substitute it with cremini. So now he insisted to shop with her or alone, to always get exactly what he needed. Helena was fine with that; Bane suspected a subtle subterfuge on her part, but couldn't prove it.
Their cart was filled halfway with produce when they finally made it to the queue and time waiting for their turn at the checkout was spent on a banter over who would pay. Then, Helena took Bane to lunch in a restaurant by the bay, right on the pier. Ride back home was spent in a companionable silence. Helena left Bane to unload everything and went back to her cottage.
He followed soon after, unwilling to stay away for too long.
The view which greeted him was a pleasant surprise, one he didn't know he missed. Or how much he missed, to be exact.
"You're writing again?"
"I thought it would be nice to get back on that horse." Her joke was half-serious. The desk was dusty, clearly not used for quite some time. She had to take away some saplings growing in seedling containers and clean it with a cloth before she settled on the chair. "I want to make a little something for Fergusons for Easter. "
"A psalm?"
"I know they're both believers, even though they don't attend any congregation. I think Graham is Catholic, but Grace was originally a Presbyterian."
Bane watched her work, practicing simple lines on a bit of decorative paper, acquainting herself back with her tools. It didn't take long for her to switch to whole sentences, to get the flow of ink just right, the thickness of lines perfect and controlled.
"Do they have any children?"
"Several. Let me think." She tapped index finger on her lips, smearing a bit of ink there. "I'm sure they have three. Maybe four. Two girls and a boy, all very much grown-up, around my age and older."
Now she switched to inspecting pigments in small jars, waiting in neat rows. Just like they were at her workshop way back when; all perfectly organized and prepared for work even when not in use.
"Would you like me to help you with your plants?"
"Would you?" She twisted back in her seat, her project forgotten for the time being. "That would be great. It's fertilizing time and I planned on planting all plants after Easter. We could buy missing seedlings and put them all in at the same time."
"Sounds good." He nodded, smiling slightly. "Everything is where you showed me before?"
"You'll get to it now then?"
"Yes. I'll make lunch after. You work."
"Mhm."
Gathering his tools was a simple task and he used it to keep observing her. As always, he couldn't take his eyes off the graceful curve of her neck. Now he knew exactly how she smelled, what the texture of fine hair there felt underneath his lips. How she shivered when he would press himself to her back and hunch over her shoulder.
Shaking off the thoughts, filing them out for later, he set to his job. Jacket off, he rolled up sleeves of his shirt and henley underneath, then prepared the bags of compost and spade to dig it in. One quick survey to establish the bounds of his workplace finally, and he put on gloves. The first trench went easy and he filled it with organic matter in a short minute. The second went almost as fast, but the further it went, the more he felt the strain on his back. Halfway in he stopped and stretched using the spade as a support. He probably should have worn his brace for this type of work, next time the opportunity arose, he thought. For now, he was almost done, so he decided to just endure the strain until the end.
As he was digging from the far side, the finish line was just at the terrace. As he neared, he heard the door open behind his back, bringing out faint tune playing somewhere inside.
"Do you want something to drink?"
"I'm almost done. Make me some tea, please."
"What kind?"
"Black," he grunted through his teeth, shoving the spade deep in with his foot.
His boots would require a thorough cleaning.
In five minutes he was back inside, cramming into Helena's small bathroom. Large panel of milky white glass let in abundance of light without sacrificing privacy, but it was still too exposed for him. And too small. Tiny space was filled with a toilet, a simple sink and moderate shower. Once that would suit him just fine. An eternity ago. Now, he held bathtubs in high esteem. His own house was fitted with a very stable and adequately sized tub, elliptical and even in height. He could easily fit in and stretch, which was what he intended to do right after bringing Helena back home.
"Tony?"
The name startled him. He turned around, drying his hands on a towel hanging by the sink, a questioning look in his eyes.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes. Was planning out the rest of the afternoon."
"The tea is ready."
"I'll be right there."
What if she wouldn't like to get back with him tonight?
He came out to find her sitting on the long slab of concrete which ran through the side of the cottage and then out on the inner terrace. She had some pillows and blankets to make it more cozy, using them to form a shezlong of sorts. Mugs waited by her side, steaming and inviting with a rising streak of bergamot aroma.
"I made earl grey," she said.
Bane nodded, sitting by her side, elbows on knees, warming his hands on hot ceramic.
"You never called me by my name before."
She scoffed and sipped her drink to gain a bit of time. Hide her uneasiness.
"I admit it still feels weird. To even think of you as 'Tony'."
He nodded again. No wonder, he didn't think of himself that way either.
"Would you mind if I found a nickname for you?"
"Nickname."
"An endearment," she precised. "For me and only me to call you with."
Leaning back he mulled over the idea. In the background Doris Day sang how she loved someone a bushel and a peck.
"That could work," he admitted finally, eliciting a relieved sigh from Helena. "Do you have anything in mind?"
"I think it should come naturally. I'll run things over you as they come, how about that?"
"That's acceptable."
They sipped tea enjoying naive songs. Early evening settled gradually over the sea.
Bane had at the tip of his tongue an admission how used he got to the calm familiarity they shared. It couldn't last, not with his burning desire to excel and always push further. But for now it was perfect just as it was.
"Would you like to go for a stroll while there's still light out?"
He looked at the sky, judging how many minutes of daylight were still left.
"A short one."
"Let's go then. I want to see where we have some wildflowers, since I won't be able to buy an arrangement for Grace. I was thinking of getting her lily of the valley bouquet, I think I saw some by the edge of trees there," she said, pointing to the forest nearby.
Bane shrugged on his jacket, while Helena went back to the hanger to get her coat and a scarf. He stopped her when she passed him, inspecting the bruises on sides of her throat before she hid them again under hair and wool.
"I will make it up to you," he promised.
She smiled taking his hands away and set out, a brisk pace, purposeful and steady.
"So… if I wanted a swimming pool would you get one built for me?" she asked once they were out on tarmac leading to the beach. From there they would go up the slope, their back to the sea, to a small cliff and then to a narrow meadow stretching before the treeline.
"Why would you need a swimming pool?"
"Surprisingly, for swimming."
Bane shook his head, stopping her to point to some bluebells. They crouched over and she used a pair of scissors she brought to cut some stems. Bane helped with his knife.
"Is the whole ocean not enough for you?"
"It's cold and murky and unrestricted," she argued.
"Beautiful."
"Dangerous."
He snorted derisively.
"I'm not getting you a pool."
Frowning at him from across the patch of flowers she tried one more time.
"Well, the Olsen's have one. And Calmeyer's. And that little weird lady who lives in the big white house at the crossroads."
"No."
He grunted, getting up with a huff. They set uphill, heading towards the forest where white dots of lilies were already visible.
"What about an infinity pool?"
"What is that?"
"A very small pool with a turbine generating a current. It's great for back problems I hear."
"I don't have any."
"Sure."
"There is no need marring this landscape for you to soak once or twice." He paused. "A yacht on the other hand…"
"Is that why there is a pier?"
"Perhaps."
"You slimy bastard!"
"You can't have it all, my love."
"I beg to differ," she taunted, hiding her nose in flowers. They didn't smell much, mostly of greenery and weeds, so she straightened with a slight scowl.
"I always wanted to learn sailing," he offered, an explanation unexpected but not unheard of.
"Like a pirate?" She perked up visibly.
The jab was slight, but still made Bane chuckle.
"A corsair," he corrected, leaning down to yank some flowers out as he passed them.
"Oh, right."
He handed her more bluebells, mingled with some wild buttercups.
"If you need to exercise you could go to my pilates class."
"You teach pilates?" She teased him again, knowing exactly what he meant. The bunch of flowers was a handful already and she switched them around to distribute the yellows evenly around.
"No, I'm merely practicing."
"For those back problems you don't have?"
"Perhaps."
"Is that how you keep all this… bulk?" any opportunity to look him over was good, but now Helena exaggerated the appreciation she had for his still formidable physique.
"No."
"Okay, then." Then it hit her. "Wait. When did you start going to a pilates class?"
"After our talk by the fire. I went to see a specialist and he recommended activities to ease some of the strain."
"That's wonderful!"
Bane snorted. "Grace is attending the same class."
"Is she? Did you work on mending that peculiar first impression you made?"
"I might have made some progress with her."
"I bet you have!" She laughed, delighted with the idea of Grace warming to Bane's presence in her life. "So, will you show me how to stretch myself?"
It turned out she wasn't as flexible as he thought much to their dismay.
As you can see i wasn't bulshitting you with how my mood improved. :) I'm halfway into the next chapter, all looks well. Although I try to forget how I promised to finish that other story, the one I started back like... ten years ago. Shoosh for now. It will come to me, eventually.
So, a reader here (yes, you Chey, and thanks again for that!) suggested I give Bane a nickname tied to his field of work. A name of a constellation, perhaps. I was thinking long and hard about it, but can't decide on one, nothing seems good enough. So I'll try to incorporate some ideas about it in two chapters I have left in here. If you have any comments, please, don't ever hesitate to give me a piece of your mind! :)
Review responses:
Sxevlbtch: Still love the name. :) Is Mr Brown Mr Wayne? Well, all I can say now is that we'll know for sure in the next installment after that.
Lia: Thank you kindly, but remember I have an amazing proof-reader (coincidentally, she's not a native herself, so that is pretty amazing indeed!). I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter. As for my whereabouts, I have to confess I would love to stay as secretive as I can. At least here, out in the open. I'm European, all I can say.
WorryFree: Wait no longer! Though, I hope the diminished intensity in this chapter was still to your liking.
An anonymous Guest: Was it heartwrenching in a good way?
Splendiferous7: Again, thanks for your kind words. Again, hearing that someone does what I still do too (ie. reading instead of sleeping 'because it just came out OMG, yes, finally') is the best boost I could ever get. Again, hope you still enjoy.
PS. I made two very minor changes in previous chapters. Needed to gain a few days. No one noticed, right?