2. Love
Even in death it is never forgotten
A car horn sounded somewhere above them, causing both the two to jump nearly out of their skins. Bruce and Patience both turned to see a man smirking at them from his big red pickup. "Come on, buddy, if you're planning on kissing her, just do it already. The suspense is killing me."
The two focused on each other and noticed suddenly how warmly they'd been leaning in towards each other. Patience had her hands pressed longingly on his chest and Bruce had wrapped his arms around her lower back, drawing her closer to him. When they realized just what they were doing, reality set in like a nuclear bomb. Both stumbled back several steps, embarrassed by the public affection they'd displayed on perfect strangers.
"Ah don't stop because of me." The creep in the truck said leaning over his rolled-down window. "It was just starting to get good."
Bruce turned to the man smirking over the red in his face. "Sorry, but this isn't suppose to be a show. Don't you have somewhere else you need to be, my good man?"
"Naw," he responded smacking on a big wad of bubble gum. "I don't have any other place to go. Just go on and keep doing what you were doing before. Just pretend I'm not here, kay?"
Bruce pinned the man with a heated glare. It looked as if Bruce would jump at the man any minute and if that happened, Patience had a good feeling that Bruce would win. The man's grin dissolved at the killing look. Without a word, he started abruptly down the road once more.
Patience stared at Bruce. The moment of recognition had passed so it was only partly surprising when nothing happened once they made eye contact again. She smirked teasingly. "Talk about if looks could kill."
Bruce smiled somewhat. Patience had the impression that he wasn't ready to give up his suspicion resulting from their heated moment, and to be truthful, neither was she. Who was this man exactly? She'd never, in her whole life, had a reaction towards any other person the way she'd had with him in merely two seconds of eye contact. It was almost like love at first sight. Sort of like off some corny old romance movie. But if it was true love, why did she feel such… rage and sorrow towards him all at the same time?
Somehow she had the feeling that this dealt with reincarnation and a deep history that stemmed far back into certain past lives.
Now that's just creepy, Patience thought suppressing a shiver.
"I'm sorry I didn't catch your full name," Bruce said smoothly. All trace of their moment seemed to disappear entirely in him.
"Oh… uh. Phillips, Patience Phillips." She finished, twirling her hair a bit embarrassed. "And you are?"
"Wayne," Bruce announced with a smidgen of pride. "Bruce Wayne."
"Wayne? You mean…" Patience squeaked when she recognized the name. Of all that is holy, she'd been putting the moves on a billionaire. Now she was going to seem like some sleazy gold digger. But wait one minute! She hadn't known he was a billionaire. She hadn't even known his name until he told her.
Bruce looked down at the papers he was holding. "I think these are yours." He began to hand them over but stopped when the colors caught his eye. He brought them to his face and looked at them with more interest now. Patience waited as he flipped through them, admiringly. "These are very good." He said studying the colors and whimsical brush strokes that imitated ink spills under water.
"Thanks." Patience said humbly.
Bruce looked up at her suddenly. "Was this supposed to be a portfolio for a job?"
Damn! Patience groaned. What time was it exactly? She had been late before but now it was just hopeless. "Yes." She admitted glumly. "But they've probably given it to someone else about now. And I've lost a lot of the better pages in the traffic."
"Well it was my fault. I was just coming back from Sadie's Script, if that's the job you were applying for. I could explain to your boss what happened."
"Thanks, but it's really alright." Patience dismissed the offer with a wave. "You don't need to go to any trouble, really."
"It's more trouble for you to loose a position on my account." He announced handing her back the pictures. "Trust me, five minutes in my presence and you'll have job offers coming to you in all directions by the end of the day."
Bruce Wayne hadn't been exaggerating. By the end of the day he had her new boss, Ms. Sharidine, eating out of the palm of his hands. Once he'd apologized for Mrs. Phillips' delay and stated that she was probably one of the most talented artists he'd ever had the opportunity to meet, it all fell into place with those few simple words.
Only five minutes into the interview and it seemed Ms. Sharidine had already made her decision.
"Thank you very much, Mrs. Phillips. I look forward to seeing you on time tomorrow."
Patience beamed, jumping to her feet and shaking the woman's hand energetically. "Oh thank you so much for this ma'am. You won't be disappointed. I'll get here early and go right to work. Thanks again."
"Of course, and," she leaned into her, making her voice hushed so that the man on the other side wouldn't be able to hear if he was listening. "Not to seem rude but, what might you're relation with Mr. Wayne be? Just to be curious." She added quickly.
Patience could feel a hiss coming on. She'd only just met the man and yet she felt suddenly extremely jealous by the mere thought of anyone stepping in her territory.
But he's not my territory, she wanted to kick herself by how controlling she was feeling. For crying out loud, we just met!
She forced a grin and pretended not to care if the woman was interested in the bachelor—evil, gold-digging, slimy, skimpy, little harpy that she was.
"We're just friends." She announced neglecting to add that they'd only just met fifteen minutes ago.
"Really?" the woman asked enthusiastically looking back to the door. "Do you suppose he would be interested in an interview by one of our journalists?"
"You know I'm not sure. You should ask him, yourself." Patience was smiling kindly, but on the other side of the mask, Catwoman was hissing possessively, It had better be only about an interview, you little, obtrusive tramp.
Ms. Sharidine showed Patience out herself. The artist kept her smile for as long as it took to walk to the door but when they came out, her smile vanished at the sight. Bruce was sitting in a leather chair being "entertained" by two other women. One was leaned over his chair arm, her elbow propping her up as her head rested in her hands. Another was standing behind him attempting to give him a neck massage. With that sight, Patience could feel Catwoman rising up in her, ready to pounce on these meddling little rats. Why she ought to just teach them a lesson they'll never forget. How dare they even think of touching what belonged to her.
Wait just one minute, she wanted to shout at herself. Why am I being so overly possessive of this man? I don't even know him for crying out loud and I'm already staking my claim on him. What the hell is wrong with me?
Inside her though she could hear another voice whispering in her ear. He's mine, Catwoman declared. And I am his. No one else's. He belongs to me and has for as long as our souls have existed.
"We're very happy to have you with us, Ms. Phillips." Mrs. Sharidine pronounced, shaking her back to earth. She ignored Mr. Wayne for the moment. "I'm sure we can certainly expect great things from your work."
Patience almost didn't notice her speaking to her. She was having a very difficult time withdrawing her attention away from the intimate sight of the two women and the one man who was (apparently for some bizarre reason she had yet to understand) suppose to be hers.
To the rest of the occupants the moment lasted only a second, but on Patience's end, however, it seemed to stretch on for years. When she at last came through the shock, Bruce was on his feet at once, shaking off the extra women as if they were flees. He righted himself and ignored the pouts coming from the little tramps. He seemed happy enough to see that Patience had received the job position.
He reached out to congratulate her. "I'm very pleased with this predicament. It's good to know you didn't loose out on my account."
Ms. Sharidine moved in before Patience could even open her mouth the thank him. "Believe me, Mr. Wayne so are we." She reached out for his hand and shook it firmly, leaning a bit further towards him. The next bit of information was meant specifically for him, though it didn't appear she cared much if anyone else was listening. "I was also wondering if you would be interested in doing an interview for us. Our readers would be more than interested to here from one of the richest people in the world and it would be so thrilling to see how Mr. Bruce Wayne takes such an interest in our magazine."
"Well that's really very tempting of you, Mrs. Sharidine—"
"Oh it's Miss." Ms. Sharidine corrected excitedly.
"Ms. Sharidine," Bruce rectified with a smile. "It's very tempting, but I'm afraid I'll have to put such a thing on hold for the next couple of months. I'm surprisingly very booked until January."
"Oh, oh of course, . I understand completely. But lets say if you did desire to do an interview, could we expect you for maybe our February article perhaps?"
Bruce's smile broadened. "I think I could manage to squeeze something in. Now if you'll excuse us," Patience was surprised when she felt him place his hand on her back. Up until this moment, everyone in the room had pathologically ignored her. Now the wealthiest man in the city was escorting her like a lovesick sweetheart out of the office. "I have your number so I will give you a call when I have a specific date worked out."
Ms. Sharidine eyed the hand on Patience back suspiciously, yet her smile remained in place, if only forced. "Of course. I will be expecting your call soon."
"Goodbye now."
"Goodbye Mr. Wayne. And Goodbye, Patience." She added, neglecting to use formality like she had with Bruce. "I look forward to seeing you bright and early tomorrow morning."
"Oh yes, Ms. Sharidine." Patience called over her shoulder as they were making their way towards the elevator. "I'll be here first thing tomorrow."
"Good."
And with that, the woman turned and nearly stormed back into her office. If Patience didn't have such enhanced senses, she would never have detected the hidden jealousy in Ms. Sharidine's scent. It gave Patience an unorthodox feeling of satisfaction and triumph.
The trip down to the lobby was awkward. Bruce and Patience stood uncomfortably in perfect silence as people filed in and out of the tight box the whole agonizing journey down to the first floor. They were embarrassed to speak with so many strangers listening, yet they could not ignore the dramatic vibes each was radiating for the other.
Though Bruce looked cool and collected on the outside, Patience knew better. Emotions were sharp and pungent in the tight space of the elevator. The things coming from him that were most distinguished were resentment, guilt, sorrow, and most importantly lust. Patience felt the same yet one thing that defined her most of all was the uncertainty she could not quiet inside her. Fear tightened in her chest, making it difficult to focus on one thing. Fear for the unknown, which saturated around the two. It was agony to stand there in the presence of this man and be lost completely for words.
Patience decided to bolt the moment the number had dinged to floor one. These feelings she was emitting like some pheromone machine, were just too much for even her to handle. She was having an extreme problem with keeping herself under control in the very, very small space that separated them.
"I'm happy you were able to get the job." Bruce said, breaking the tension.
Patience jumped at the suddenness of his comment. The silence had been so complete, that it would make a pin drop seem enormously loud.
"Thank you for helping me get it." Patience said, trying not to make eye contact with him and getting sucked into his stare like she had done when they first met. "I guess I might not have gotten it if you hadn't bumped into me."
"Oh I don't believe that." Bruce said leaning against the wall in a casual gesture. "I'm completely honest when I say you have more talent than any other artist I've met before."
"That's very flattering of you." Patience even blushed for a moment there, but then she remembered the look on his face when those girls were all over him outside Ms. Sharidine's office. Her modesty rapidly turned to resentment as she turned from him. "I bet you say those things to every girl you meet."
Before he could ask her to explain what that meant precisely, the doors swung open and Patience rushed away, trying not to look back over her shoulder.
She was already out the doors and on the crosswalk by the time she felt a hand grab her wrist and stop her before she could get any further. In one instant, bare skin met bare skin. It was like electricity shot up her arm, leaving behind a trail of lustful heat in its wake. Patience ripped her hand away when the connection had been made, as did Bruce. They stood staring in stunned silence at one another, panting from the shock. It was as if reality melted away again and all that was compressed of the world were themselves.
Bruce stepped towards her reaching out, but Patience backed away. The man stopped advancing at once and looked embarrassed. As quickly as it had come the moment faded.
"Thank you for your help, Mr. Wayne." Patience said, her feet turning towards the crosswalk that was her quickest escape. "But I think I' better go now."
"Wait!" He all but yelled, stepping in her way. "Let me get you some coffee."
Patience didn't know this man. She was grateful for his help, and he was a kind enough, as far as she could tell, but she most certainly didn't like the vibes she was receiving by being around him. She felt that the sooner she got away the sooner things would clear up and go back to normal. Her other side laughed by this thought.
Normal? Ha! That's what you wanted before you became Catwoman. This is no different. We can be sure that nothing will be normal in our terms ever, ever again.
"That's really not necessary." Patience said ignoring the thoughts in her head. She tried to step around him. He moved in front of again, and the woman wasn't quite sure whether she wanted to kiss him or claw his eyes out for blocking her path once more.
"Please." He persisted, putting his hand on her back. Patience was grateful the skin was properly padded with her jacket and violet hoody. "It's the least I could do."
"Well it's perfectly all right because you've done enough for me."
"Why are you so reluctant about having a simple cup of coffee with me?"
"Why are you so persistent?"
"Because... because!" He announced, trying not to say what he really wanted to say. Then he sighed, looking at her with the deepest austere. "It's only coffee."
Patience's foot tapped the ground impatiently, uncertain whether she wanted to risk it. The last time she had a cup of coffee with a supposedly nice man, she'd ended up in jail for crimes she didn't commit. Then she sighed in defeat. If it would get rid of him, "Okay, as long as it's just coffee."
"Sure." Bruce said, delighted that she finally caved in. "There's even a perfect shop around the corner from here."
Boy this was awkward!
Ten minutes later, they sat across from one another with steaming mugs in front of them. They'd been silent the entire time. Both were thinking of the unexplainable sensation that was still fresh within their memories from when they touched. Patience tapped her fingers on the edges of her mug, trying to think of words to say. Bruce silently took a swig of his own.
Their conversation was getting nowhere really fast.
"Nice place," Bruce noted lamely.
"Yeah. Cozy." Patience agreed just as weakly.
"So you're new in town, aren't you?" Bruce said finally. Patience took a sip of her coffee, delighting in the sweet taste of cream and foam.
"Yeah. I moved in yesterday actually. And you? I suppose you've lived here your whole life."
"Most of it at least." Bruce said taking a deep swig. "I sort of went out on my own a couple of years ago. Went here and there for a while and then potentially disappeared for a time being. But now I'm back and I've reclaimed my family's business and everything is fine for the moment."
Patience smelt just a touch of a lie in the last bit of that sentence. Everything for him wasn't "fine" after all.
"Yeah. I went out on my own a few months ago." Patience mused, resting her chin in her palm. "I needed to clear my head a bit. There were a few big changes that I needed to cope with on my own before I came back to civilization."
"And how was that?" Bruce asked, sincerely interested.
"Enlightening." She declared, falling into a memory of the wonderful month she spent in Egypt and the research she acquired about past Catwomen in history. "It was great to just get away for a while. The experience really opened my eyes."
"That's how it felt after I came back as well. Stuff changed in ways I never expected them to." For a moment Bruce's eyes seemed to glaze over, as Patience realized he was falling into a memory. It wasn't clear to her whether it was good or bad.
"Same here." Patience added. She wasn't able to get as much information as she'd expected on her journeys, but after six months, she felt it was finally time to come home. After all, she'd left without really explaining to Sally and Dad where she was going. "It's been six months since I worked. I was so afraid I was loosing my skill. Now I'm really grateful that old habits don't die easily."
"Where did you go?"
"Oh... here and there." She said, neglecting to elaborate. "How bought you?"
"Around the block a few times."
"The block?" Patience inquired, raising an eyebrow.
"It was a really big block." Bruce announced with the faintest trace of a smile.
"I bet."
"Ms. Phillips," Bruce said, addressing her formally for the first time since they met. "It seems apparent that we're both not willing to elaborate on our journeys to nearly complete strangers." Bruce noted after a moment's pause. "So maybe we should get better acquainted with one another first. Would you be interested in having dinner with me tomorrow?"
Patience didn't want to have dinner with him at all. She didn't want to get tied up with someone like him. And yet her mouth just couldn't seem to form itself into a "no". For at that moment, Catwoman stepped into the conversation. "I would love to have dinner with you."
Bruce leaned back a bit, happy that she'd accepted his offer. "You wouldn't mind an early dinner, would you? I have a bit of an activity that I do at night."
"Well... I suppose." She was playing the flirty, vulnerable half that Catwoman liked to use when charming men. "Is it something I could join you in sometime?"
He looked at her, weighing her question in his mind. "Maybe."
Patience smiled a bit. "It's actually really good for me. I don't like staying out too late and I do have my own… activities I do at night."
"Maybe you could tell me some of yours and I'll tell you mine."
"Perhaps," she cooed, finishing her coffee and standing up. "But that will have to wait till tomorrow, Mr. Wayne."
"Please," he rose to his feet as well. "Call me Bruce."
"Alright then, Bruce. Here's my number if you need to cancel for some reason. Would it be fine if I had yours as well?"
"Of course." He reached in his jacket and handed her a business card. "Where do you live? I could come and pick you up, if you'd like."
Patience's voice caught in her throat. She didn't want to go to dinner with this man, but she most certainly didn't want him knowing where she lived. How could she refuse him without sounding suspicious?
"Oh there's no need. I'll just meet you at the restaurant if that's fine with you."
Bruce may have been smiling, but Patience could still smell his disappointment perfectly. "Well if that's what you'd like."
Yes that is what I'd like, Mr. Wayne, Patience wanted to snap but Catwoman had a hold on her tongue today. "I look forward to seeing you again, Mr.—I mean Bruce."
"Same here, Ms. Phil—Patience."
"Until tomorrow night." Their hands reached out to shake the other's, but stopped suddenly. Each had the same hesitation on them of the prospect of touching skin to skin once more. The woman smiled politely and pocketed her hand without touching his. She turned on the spot and rushed out the door.
Bruce watched her go and was nearly overcome by a strong desire to stop her. No! His other half called out to him. Don't let her go again. It was all he could do to keep from jumping out of his seat and chasing after the woman just as she disappeared out the door.
"Get a hold of yourself." He hissed lowly. He really shouldn't have been talking to himself, but he seriously needed to calm the turmoil raging inside. "What on earth is wrong with me?" His body was stiff and frozen. He didn't dare move a single muscle in case he lost control and felt the urge to hunt Patience down again. It took every once of his strength to remain in that one spot. Five minutes passed before he was at last calm enough to move from his seat. When he had a stronger hold on reality, he was in a cold sweat and found his fists had been clenched tight enough that his nails dug into his palms. It took several deep breaths to slow the pounding in his heart.
Never, in all his travels in all his life had he ever felt emotions raging that strongly in him. He'd never felt the lust he'd felt towards any woman he can think of the way he'd felt towards that complete stranger. Not the gold-diggers he's often caught associating with, not even Rachel whom he loved more than all or any of them. Yet even so, Rachel's hold had never been as strong as what Patience had snared him with. What had those emotions rolling in his gut meant? Did this have anything to do with reincarnation or something? Bruce never believed in such things as past lives or any of that rubbish, but now he wasn't so sure. The first moment he looked the woman the eyes, he had the strongest desire to bed her at once. Then at the same time, he felt even a stronger urge to kill her. What in the world did that mean?
All he knew for certain was that he couldn't lose her again. When she rushed out of the elevator without turning back, Batman was instantly on full alert. I can't loose her! He shouted inside Bruce's head. Not again… not after—
Not after what? Bruce wanted to yell. He'd always had such control over his demon. Except now the Dark Knight was taking matters into his own hands.
He needed to get to the bottom of this. History was involved somehow and he had to find out what it was. He got out his cell phone and punched the speed dial.
"Yes, Mr. Wayne."
"Alfred, I need you to do some digging into reincarnation."
"Finally found the man who claims his past life was Napoleon?" The nasally voice of his butler asked with amusement.
"No it's something much bigger than that." Bruce climbed into his black Ferrari and revved up the engine. "I think I have a used soul-I mean, I think I've been reincarnated."
"And what makes you think that, sir?"
"Well… I met a woman—"
"Oh that's not too uncommon for you, sir."
"Please, Alfred." Bruce said, getting a touch impatient. "This has nothing to do with the skanks I take home for one night flings."
"Then what is it about, Master Wayne?"
"It's hard to explain on the phone." He sighed, stopping shortly at a red light. "Anyways see what you can find on historical soul mates. I know that sounds… strange, but I have a feeling I may very well have found Batman's other half."
"Batman's other half, sir? Not yours?"
"It's too early to tell for me. Anyways do some digging. I'll be home at four."
"Very well, sir. As you wish."
I've already got reviews (YAY)! ^u^I'm so happy!
Thank you guys.
I had this chapter done before I actually published my story, but my sister was bugging me so bad to get off the computer that I didn't get it posted with the first one. Hope you like it and I'll try to get more in by next week. Review if you like it. Review if you don't even. I'm not picky. Good critisism can be helpful.