For Appearance's Sake

By Teala373

Chapter 2

In our last chapter: Barbara pretends to be Bruce's date to get him away from his social obligations to work on a case. Jason Bard, an honorably discharged police officer, has been moving up the ranks in one of crime lord Rupert Thorn's front businesses, and may be playing double agent. Bruce suggests they continue pretending to be a couple to work on the case more easily.

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"This lobster risotto is fantastic," Barbara exclaimed in between bites. She and Bruce were playing the happy couple at a new restaurant opening in downtown Gotham.

A corner of Bruce's mouth rose as he watched her plop a forkful of the risotto on his plate, then spear the piece of roasted lamb he had just cut for himself. "Oh my, the lamb is great, too. You have to give me a raise so I can eat here more often."

He chuckled as he thwarted her second attempt to steal another piece of lamb, resulting in a brief fork duel on his plate.

"Okay, okay," she conceded. "I know guys hate when girls do that. Besides, I really do love this risotto. I don't think I've ever had it prepared this way."

"You mean with lobster?"

Barbara rolled her eyes. "No, I mean not out of a box."

They laughed and continued eating, ignoring the stares they were receiving from some curious patrons. Barbara had to admit that being the fake girlfriend of Bruce Wayne had its perks. They had been dining at some of the most exclusive restaurants and clubs in Gotham. Except for the fancy appetizers served at the swanky parties she was dragged to as the daughter to the police commissioner, she had never really eaten fine food. Even while dating Dick, they had always opted for more casual settings.

Little lines appeared on her forehead as thoughts of Dick Grayson entered her mind. She quickly shooed them away with a few sips of the fine wine that had been served with their meal.

Barbara had always been curious about Bruce's early college ventures in which he considered law. Though she understood his reasons for abandoning it in favor of his own brand of justice, she still found it fascinating. They had discussed it in length the previous evening at both the gallery opening and charity dinner they attended early in the week.

"Did you ever consider going into Congress or becoming a judge and redefining law?" she asked, eager to distract herself from thinking of Dick again.

"I did, and to some extent I would have liked to, but it is a slow process and I am not a very patient man."

She smiled, knowing all too well how thin his true patience was, despite the cool exterior he projected when masquerading as himself. "When I took law at GCU, I always thought Senator Gordon or Congresswoman Gordon had a nice ring to it."

"What about Agent Gordon? Do you ever think about reapplying for the FBI?" Bruce asked, "I'm sure they'd accept you now."

Barbara shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe when I'm older, I could serve in some sort of technical aspect, like hacker crimes or something along those lines."

"Did you ever think about joining the police force?"

"Are you kidding? That was rule number one in the Gordon household. Dad would never go for that," she looked away, "he never told me, but I know he was always afraid I would join for the wrong reasons..."

"Oh?" Bruce knew what all of those reasons were, though they had never discussed it. Barbara was aware he knew. She had long stopped being surprised by the fact that he seemed to know everything.

Though she looked at him with a smile, her eyes were sad. "I... I don't know why I brought that up. I don't really want to talk about it."

He waved his hand dismissively. "Done. What are your thoughts on Bard?"

Barbara had been trained by Bruce in the art of talking without letting other people around you know what you were talking about. She knew how to control the tones in her voice so they wouldn't carry and how to move her mouth so that her lips couldn't be read.

"Nothing spectacular stands out on his record before he was discharged from his injury. They never caught the guy that shot him, though there were a lot of suspects and line-ups, but Bard claimed none of them were the guy."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "You don't believe that?"

"You don't forget the face of a person who shoots at you, especially if they cause just enough damage to your leg to get you discharged from the force. I think he knows who did it, but for some reason, wasn't talking."

"Interesting."

"His leg is pretty well healed. He doesn't need a cane anymore, but he didn't try to return to law. He started doing a lot of odd jobs that always had something to do with Thorn. Mostly working on the docks. There are a lot of large cash deposits going in his bank account, but no checks or wires that I can trace. He eventually got some street cred because he slowly worked his way up the ranks. He was promoted from foreman, to warehouse supervisor, to divisional rep. Now, he's a big wig with one of Thorn's front businesses. That's why he's been making the party circuit. I'm still not one hundred percent sure what he's up to, but I think there is much more than meets the eye."

Bruce nodded. "I agree. We'll keep researching and observing until we have something solid. Nice work."

Barbara smiled. "Thanks." Compliments from Bruce were few and far between.

"We need to come up with an excuse as to why we can't go Veronica's latest shindig. I want to go take a look around the dock warehouse that he was operating out of."

Suppressing a laugh, Barbara nodded.

"What's so funny?"

"You saying 'shindig'."

He tried to make an intimidating face, but ended up smiling along with her. He had to admit to himself that he was enjoying the benefits of having Barbara as a girlfriend. He didn't have to pretend or act as he would with other dates. He found that he could relax and even enjoy himself. Ever since he had lost his friend Harvey Dent, social obligations weren't the same.

In the middle of play arguing over what dessert they were going to order and 'split', Bruce suddenly realized that he was very aware of his bottom stomach lining. At first, he dismissed it as the food, but when Barbara's eyes lit up at his invitation to the grand opening of the new space observatory funded by Wayne Tech, he knew it was something else.

He was genuinely enjoying every minute of his fake relationship with Barbara.

The band, who had been sticking to soft pop, switched over to an old Billie Holiday tune he remembered his mother playing on the old Victrola in the family room. A sudden burst of boldness and nostalgia seized him.

Standing, he extended his hand to Barbara. She giggled as she accepted. "Oh, yeah. I forgot I have to do the whole nine yards here. Do I also have to call your cell phone incessantly and pitch a fit every time you even breathe the same air as another woman?"

Pointedly ignoring her, he led her away from the table. As they reached the small dance floor, they automatically slid together into a dance position and began gliding around the floor.

"I don't know that I would want to make you jealous," he began with a mischievous gleam in his eye, "you might sabotage my jump line."

"Bat-humor, huh? Nice. And like I could ever get away with it without you knowing."

"I don't know," he continued with a sly look on his face, "if you keep beguiling me with your feminine charms..."

"Oh gag me! Save your smooth lines for the platinum blondes."

"Maybe it's not a line."

She threw him a challenging look. "I knew it."

"Knew what?"

"You agreed to this whole fake relationship thing way too easy. You're testing me to make sure I don't lose my head and get lost in this little posh world of yours."

He breathed out a small laugh as they continued to dance. The feeling that had almost eluded him at the dinner table was now growing as he held Barbara against him. At first, he really had thought this was a good solution to work on their cases without having the constant social interruptions. Now, he was starting to think that this was the beginning of all new social interruptions.

From the corner of his eye, he caught Veronica Vreeland scowling at them as she was seated with friends at a nearby table. He knew she was going to be a problem. Veronica had always been after him, but never so seriously as when he dated a woman more than twice in a row. He knew she perceived Barbara as a real threat and would start her usual catty games.

"Does this band always play here?" Barbara asked, clearly enjoying the song.

Instead of answering her, Bruce leaned down and gently pressed his lips to hers. She stiffened at first, but then, remembering their plan of having to act like a happy couple, slid her arm from his shoulder to his neck and responded enthusiastically.

'It's just for appearance's sake,' she tried to tell herself, though the ever quickening beating of her heart was telling her otherwise.

Bruce, for his part, was also trying to convince himself that his actions were for appearance's sake, and to make a point to Veronica. However, he couldn't ignore the fact this was less of a facet of their work, and more of an enjoyment.

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"Are you sure you will be able to get along, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked as he paused in packing his bags.

"Come on, Alfred," Bruce smiled at his old friend whom he considered family, "go and spend time with your family. You deserve the vacation. Barbara and I will be fine."

"I've been meaning to discuss that with you, young sir." Bruce knew that when he was called him 'young sir', he was in for a lecture.

"What about it?"

"Are you entirely sure on what you're doing?"

"Of course. It's a great way for us to keep up our public appearances and still work on this Bard case. It's for appearance's sake, as Barbara always says."

The old butler sighed as he closed his suitcase and allowed them to be carried out to the car for him, knowing his protests would fall on deaf ears. "I don't think the pair of you know what you're in for."

Settling the large suitcase in the truck, Bruce closed the lid. "Actually, I think I know exactly what I'm in for."

Alfred recognized the look on his face. It was similar to the one he saw when Bruce was in love with Andrea Beaumont. He considered cancelling his trip to help prevent the impending disaster. "Do tread carefully, young sir. I don't know how much good I'll do in trying to get you out of this kind of mess."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "When have you ever gotten me out of a mess."

He laughed at the withering look he was thrown.