Until Lambs Become Lions
Chapter Six
Authors Notes: Thanks to all who have reviewed and favorited. This chapter kinda sucks, but the ideas are all in place, so here on out it's got get hot, steamy, violent, etc, etc.
Blake swore at himself quietly as he took a shower. He had new bruises on his arms and his back, the dried blood that had been on his face ran off with the water. He was worried, Evy wasn't a slow kinda gal, and he was sure she was catching on. He was slipping, he decided, as both Batman and as Blake around her. He sighed, resting his head against the blue tile of the shower. It was too easy to get attached to her, especially when he had had the date with her. She had chosen the action packed thriller and been relaxed and carefree. She had been different from her professional persona, and even she had said 'we all wear masks Blake, it's whether we choose to show our true selves that matters. Mask or not.'
He shut the water off and stepped out, dripping onto the plush bath mat as he wrapped a towel around his hips. He wanted more, so much more. He ran a hand over his wet hair and opened the door to the bedroom, Evy was sprawled across the king bed, the tee shirt riding high over curvy hips. He groaned softly. She stirred in her sleep and rolled over, grey eyes open and on him. "Oh God," she muttered and rolled onto her stomach, burrowed into the pillows. "Go away." Her muffled voice ordered. Blake grinned as her butt clad in blue and white stripped panties lifted into the air.
"Not a morning person Doctor?" He asked gleefully. His answer was a middle finger, stuck straight into the air. "It's Saturday." Ignoring the fact that he was in a towel he sat down on the edge of the bed. "We can run over to your place and grab you some stuff." He ran a hand across her lower back. "I'd rather you not stay there this weekend." He added on, despite having turned the crooks in, she didn't know that.
"What d'ya want me to do? Pitch a tent in the back yard?" Evy snapped, finally pulling her head up.
Blake drew in a sharp breath. "Oh baby," he muttered, his fingers brushing across her bruised cheekbone. She jerked away from his fingers and rolled with a groan onto her back. "I washed your clothes from last night." He pointed to the pile on the chair.
"You're in a towel," Evy pointed out after a moment of silence. "That's foul play." Her eyes ate him up slowly, even as the shy smile spread over his lips.
"All's fair my dear Evelyn." He rose from his spot. "If you shower and dress I'll buy ya breakfast." She nodded, sitting up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
0-0-0
The apartment was in shambles. Evy walked around a broken red vase, a frown in place. Blake walked behind her, eyes never in the same area twice. He watched Evy kneel and lift and ripped pillow off the ground. Blake lifted a broken mug from the coffee table and memorized it, maybe just maybe he could hunt down another like it. "Son-of-a-bitch," he heard the curse from her bedroom and quickly entered. She stood a broken record in hand. "My fuckin' Sinatra record, really?" Evy muttered. Blake sighed in relief. Evy sank down onto her bed, jaw clenched in anger.
It took Blake only a minute to make an executive decision. "There's a carriage house on the land behind the manor….an in law apartment. You wouldn't have to pay rent and its right by the orphanage where you work—"
"Blake."
"We wouldn't have to do anything, I mean, y'know, if you wanna I mean we can, but I don't want to push you, and if you don't want to date or-"
"John." Evy snapped. He stopped his miserable attempt. She smiled. "I appreciate the offer…"
"It's safer, who would ever look for you over there?" He crossed the room and knelt in front of her, took her hands in his. "Please, for my peace of mind. You can repaint it? You wouldn't need to pay rent at all, and well, hell get a dog or a cat…"
"You gonna let me finish?" She asked with raised brows. "The answers gonna be yes." Blake laughed and hugged her gently. "It's the logical option," she added in. "But how am I going to move everything there?" She looked around at the life she had built in the home, a life that was hanging in shambles.
"I'll take care of it," Blake replied. "If you can take a few more nights in the manor."
"Your bed is friggin' comfy; I think I can suffer through a night or two." Evy grinned innocently at him. "But I think I can take the couch, you have a rougher job than I do."
"Beds plenty big." Blake offered. Evy arched a single brow in a calculating look. He gave her a youthful grin that erased some of the lines from his face. She couldn't help the grin back. "Course I'll buy you dinner first."
"Oh of course." She agreed in mock seriousness. "I'm just gonna pack some stuff."
"By all means." Blake stepped back and let her move about the room packing clothes, undergarments, hygiene products, and her stuffed snoopy. He wandered around, glancing at snap shots. His brown eyed gaze went from a youth hockey team, to a heavy girl in a prom dress. "Who's that?" He asked pointing to the picture.
Evy glanced over; she gave a small, distressed smile. "Me, before hockey, before fat camp, you get the picture." She shifted uneasily as he ran his eyes up and down her body. "Now I run at least three times a week."
"Why?"
"Because men don't like that," she pointed her finger at the photos. "They don't like the hockey player, or the roly poly or anything else."
"Not all men are like that," Blake stated. "Trust me." Evy flicked her gaze over to him and shrugged.
"Ready?"
"Sure," Blake took her duffle from her and motioned for her to go ahead. And so her walls were up.
0-0-0
That night Evy was settled into an arm chair in the study, absorbed in a mountain of files, Blake had stoked the fire and covered her with a throw before going to his desk. He sat for a long time, staring at the blank computer screen. Every first born will die. That was what Franko had said. His eyes moved to Evy and he smiled softly. She looked content, focused, but content. With a sigh he typed into his bat database first born Gotham. Search unknown. He scowled at the screen. "Hey Evy," he spoke softly. She grunted. "How do you find out who the first born child is in families?"
She lowered the glasses that she wore on her face and focused across the room to where he sat in shadow. "Medical records, city hall, social workers if they're in the states care," she pondered for another moment. "Hospitals are a good bet. Why?" Evy set aside her file.
"No reason," replied Blake as he jotted down those places. "Just a case I'm working on." He added when her gaze didn't waver. Those calculating grey eyes narrowed, but she took it for an answer.
"I have a court hearing Monday." She said softly. "You'll be there?"
"The Concannon case?"
"Yeah."
"I'll be in the audience."
"Okay," she tapped her ball point pen against her lips as she glanced through the file on Maggie Concannon. It wouldn't be hard to put Thomas Concannon away, but then again he did have friends. Her eyes went back to Blake, he was absorbed in his own work, giving her the opportunity to study him. It was odd, she mused, that he had said things that Batman had. Stop me, I've seen them before, you shouldn't have gone after them. They were things that one or the other had known or done, but not both. Her frown deepened, and on top of that Batman got a split lip and miraculously the next day a criminal hits Blake. And the eyes, she drew her knees up to her chest, both had brown eyes, but that was a common color. Same height, same build and both mysteriously handsome. You're thinking too much, her subconscious chided. They're just coincidences. But that didn't stop the nagging doubt. She let out a quiet sigh. She supposed, merely for sanity's sake, to trap the bat. But how? And if she did, and if she herself got trapped, would he be like the CIA and kill her because she knew too much?
"Halloween's coming up," Blake broke the silence his gaze on her. Wondering what she had been staring at for the last five minutes. "Gotham's Charity is putting on a masquerade ball 10 o'clock, Halloween night."
"Sounds like a rollicking good time," said Evy sarcastically.
"Wanna go?" Blake gave her a roughish grin. She debated for a long moment. "It's for charity; at least half the money is going to the kids here."
"Of course," Evy grinned at him quickly. "What's your mask?"
"That's a surprise."
"Well, if you wanna play that way, then so will I," Evy stuck her tongue out childishly. Blake grinned and turned off the computer. He had done enough for one night. Batman could do the rest. He walked over to the couch and sat down on the coffee table. "Can I help you?"
The detective was quiet for a little bit before smiling. "No, but can you answer a question?"
"Shoot."
"How do you feel about people who had….split personalities?"
"Split personalities like professional, personal, or like schizophrenic?"
"The first."
"Everyone has that kinda thing, I do."
"That's for certain. Silk sheets, snoopy, lace underwear."
Evy flushed. "What I wear under my clothes is for me to know." She rose. "I'm going to bed."
"I'll keep you company." Blake took her hand. "It may get cold tonight." She smiled at him, but didn't say no. Even as they lied down together Blake knew that he was living a lie. And dragging Evy into it.