For Appearance's Sake

By Teala373

Chapter 4

In our last chapter: Barbara thinks that Bruce's attempts to turn their pretend relationship into a real one is a test and spurns his advances. As they continue to try and discover Jason Bard's true intentions, Barbara continues to reminisce about her former relationship with Dick Grayson and what her future with Bruce might hold.

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Bruce stood with his back to his desk, staring out the large window that overlooked the sprawling Wayne grounds. He heard Barbara enter from the cave entrance behind the grandfather clock, but he did not turn.

"I have the technical analysis that you and Lucius need for Monday's meeting, and I have all the background files on Bard. I think you're right about him playing three sides." He heard her drop a file folder on his desk. "Do you want me to keep researching, or start another training session?"

His back still to her, Bruce turned his head slightly. "You still think that I'm not serious."

Sighing, she came up alongside him. "I guess that means training."

"I wish you would take me more seriously," he turned his head to look back out the window. "You're the one person I can share all of who I am with. You're the one person that knows all of me… that understands."

"Bruce," confusion touched her face, "I have absolutely no idea who you are. I mean, I understand how you were affected by what happened, and what drives you, but… everything else… I don't know what you like, what you dislike… when the cowl's off, it's like you're playing a role. I don't know who the real Bruce Wayne is."

This time, when he turned, he turned his whole body towards her. When his eyes set upon her, she saw, for the first time, the real Bruce Wayne. "I don't have to pretend with you. I don't have to hide. I don't have to be something I'm not. You're the only one that could ever understand."

Something inside her cracked, and she felt like crying, but she couldn't. Her emotions were somewhat stalled. She swallowed a large lump in her throat and tried to control her spinning mind. "I… I don't know… we're so different, yet so the same… you've taught me how to control so much of what I have inside, but…" her eyes became very sad and she looked down. "Does it ever stop? I… I can't just… I can't just do this forever…"

He took a step closer to her, knowing what was coming next.

"Sometimes, I don't know what's worse… having my real parents dead… or wondering if each day is the last for my father..." she looked up at him with sad eyes, "I am sure you know that my father is actually my uncle… and what happened to my biological parents…"

He nodded. "Yes."

A look of being lost and overwhelmed accompanied her sadness. "I… I still remember them. I can see them like it was yesterday… and then there is the fear that I will lose my father in the same way…"

And then he saw it. He could tell the crack within her was growing. He stepped forward and enclosed her in his arms. She trembled as she made small noises that resembled crying, though tears hadn't yet fallen.

"It never goes away," he said softly, reaching up a hand to stoke her hair soothingly, "but it does get better if you let people in… it… it took me such a long time to realize that." He sighed as he tightened his hold on her. "You opened a door I never thought could be opened. You showed me that there is a balance to both sides… Barbara… I think we can heal the wounds of our past… together."

While keeping one hand around her waist, he used his other hand to tilt her chin up. Though her eyes were still sad, he could see she was affected by his words and knew he was sincere. Leaning down he softly and delicately kissed her lips. When she responded, he deepened the kiss and pulled her closer.

An intense warmth flooded over him, and it felt good to begin feeling such emotions that he had quashed for so long. There had been a couple of women that he thought he could love, but none of them knew all of him. None of them shared his vision. None of them truly healed him as Barbara was. This was different. She was different.

The feeling was so good, it was all too easy to ignore the rising guilt that this was the much beloved ex-girlfriend of a man he had called his son.

For once, Bruce was selfish.

They both lost themselves in the kiss as it became more and more passionate. Their hands began roaming up and down spines and through hair. Barbara pulled back slightly, gasping for air, but Bruce was relentless. He only allowed her a few short gasps before he ascended upon her again. He began teasing her, sucking and pulling her bottom lip, then her top one. He then ran the tip of his tongue across them both and allowed her a few more desperate gasps of air before he covered her mouth with his own impatiently.

Barbara felt as though she were being consumed by fire. Her toes curled as she felt her blood bubble and race through her veins. She had been kissed before, but never like this – never quite so hungrily and erotically. When Bruce began slowing his assault, and pulled back enough to look into her eyes, she felt the world spin beneath her and would have fallen to the ground in a melted puddle of flesh and bones, but his arms where very securely around her.

He then scooped her up in his arms and carried her through the main rooms and up the staircase. Not a word passed between them, though Barbara could swear she could hear the electricity crackle between them. Her heart thundered in her chest as it dawned on her that he was taking her to his bedroom.

He boldly set her down on his bed, telling her to relax. He sensed her exhaustion and didn't want to push her too far. Of course, his choice of where he brought her was still sending a very clear message.

"I'll make us something to eat."

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"What? You think I don't know how to get along without Alfred?"

She pursed her lips together, attempting not to laugh. "I'm guessing I'm in for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich."

He smiled and she saw how it changed his face to see him so genuine. "Lucky for you, I graduated to grilled cheese."

She shifted slightly as he began to exit. "Do you mind if I take a shower? It helps me relax."

He gestured towards the attached bathroom. "Help yourself. There's a small linen closet with fresh towels and you can just borrow any of the robes from the closet."

"Thanks." She felt a strange tingly feeling from how comfortable and intimate it had all become so fast.

After he left, she tried very hard not to think about any of it, concentrating instead on her exact tasks of going about her shower. She wasn't surprised to find the softest, fluffiest towels in the linen closet, or the most expensive soaps and shampoos in the shower stall.

Before she started the water, she took a stroll through his closet, which she guessed was bigger than her entire apartment, and tried to find a robe. She found herself going through his clothes, touching the material as she passed, wondering if he just picked out what people expected him to wear, or if any of them actually catered to his tastes.

She found a thick, ribbed turtleneck in a dark grey color that she thought suited him well, and a few Gotham Knights sweatshirts. His dress shirts seemed to fascinate her the most, mainly because there were so many of them, in every color and style imaginable.

"Hm, I don't remember him dong the Regis look," she mused aloud, noting a few bold, silk color shirts that exactly matched solid ties on the tie rack.

Lingering on the vast array of plain, white dress shirts, she absent-mindedly took one off the hanger and into the bathroom with her.

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Bruce was actually no stranger around a kitchen, having lived years on his own in various parts of the world under assumed aliases. He went about making pasta with vegetables and a light sauce. He thought that would be a good, comforting meal, plus he wanted to one-up the allure that all he could manage without his trusted butler and surrogate father were sandwiches.

He smiled to himself as he prepared the meal, feeling for the first time in a long time, a sense of normalcy, comfort and even a bit of wholeness. It was such a wonderful, even addicting set of feelings, that it was once again easy to ignore the lingering guilt over his estranged son.

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Barbara couldn't remember the last time she had enjoyed a shower so much. Bruce's personal shower was top of the line, equipped with 6 showerheads set to varying degrees of pressure. For a long time, she just stood there, letting the water wash over her. When she finally lathered herself with soap and shampoo, the luxurious fragrances cast every negative thought from her mind.

When she finally emerged, she felt both relaxed and refreshed. After drying herself, she found herself dressing in Bruce's white dress shirt that she had brought with her from the closet. Finding a comb of his, she began working out the tangles in her hair. When she set down the comb, she noted Bruce's initials embroidered on the cuff of his sleeve. Smiling, she traced over them with her fingers. She hadn't missed his meaning when he so purposely brought her here to rest after her knees gave way as their soul-piercing kiss had ended.

Thinking of the kiss caused butterflies to dance in her stomach and her heartbeat to quicken. She was half dazed in the memory when she acknowledged someone standing outside the bathroom door.

"I hope you don't mind that I borrowed one of your shirts. I know it's a dress shirt, but..."

She turned away from the sink to look at him, but her serene, content, and even slightly love-struck expression quickly turned to panic.

It wasn't Bruce.

Barbara was staring into the very angry eyes of Dick Grayson.