Late that Saturday evening, Dick situated himself outside of Kory's bathroom, content in listening to her ramble on about eye shadow pigments through the door.
"And you are sure you're going to be hospitable?"
"What are you talking about? I'm always hospitable." The immediate pause after his retort let him know his girlfriend was rolling those green orbs of hers.
"You know what I'm talking about, Richard. Do not act coy with me."
"I promise I'll behave, babe. We'll be surrounded by feds so there's no need for me to be extremely paranoid."
"So I'll only have to endure the normal level of paranoid Richard Grayson?" He smirked satisfyingly.
"Exactly. Vic and Sarah will be there too if I become too hard to deal with." The door opened to reveal his girlfriend, her bountiful red hair swept up in a sleek chignon and sterling silver earrings dangling from her ears. Neatly tucked into her hair were two sprigs of faux lavender. Where he expected a dress, however, was a large black pea coat that clung to her form, protecting her from the cold winter air they would encounter on the way to the car. As his eyes descended on her body, she flipped the lights and he only got a mere glance of violet peeking out of the bottom of the coat.
"Come on. We can't be late for the party." The party where hundreds of Gotham's finest would be raving drunk and interrogating the homicide detective about the current Felon case. For a moment, he thought about begging Kory to stay home with him and they could find a movie to cuddle up to instead of enduring the torture of Wayne Manor. One look from her, though, and he melted into a puddle of obedience, following Kory to his car.
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"This is where you live?"
"Lived. Past tense. As in not any longer and never again." He grumbled unhappily and ignored the light punch to the arm he received.
"Don't be crude. I'm sure this was a glorious place to live."
"Not exactly the word I would use, but sure, it was glorious." He tightened his grip around Kory's waist and waited on Alfred to escort them inside.
"Good evening, Master Dick," the elderly man took the coat from the woman on the detective's arm, "My, Miss Anders, you look absolutely stunning." Finally, Dick could see what his girlfriend had been hiding from him for the past few hours. Her tanned body was firmly wrapped in a floor-length strapless gown that flared out from the hips. He couldn't help but not be surprised at the choice of color- lavender, her favorite shade. The dress was decorated with thin ruching that tightly encased her torso and spread throughout the remainder of the dress. To top it off, the fabric was lightly dotted with small, shimmering rhinestones. Kory placed her free hand on the butler's elbow affectionately as Dick made sure his jaw wasn't dropping significantly.
"Alfred, do I have to remind you every time I visit? You may call me Kory."
"Yes, of course. Perhaps my old mind is gaining the upper hand." The couple bid goodbye to Alfred and as Kory chatted about the beauty of the manor, Dick blatantly stared at Kory. After a few minutes, she realized the usual jabbering detective was strangely mute.
"Richard? Is there something wrong?"
"Yes." She glanced around the fellow party-goers in suspicion.
"Someone is here who shouldn't be? Is it him?" The manicured fingernails digging into his arm finally woke him from the lustful trance he was trapped in.
"No, not that. I was looking at you, Kor, and I may not be able to stop the entire night." A bright flush spread across her cheeks.
"Thank you. I'm glad you like my attire. Yours is quite... delectable, as well." Light fingers trailed across his blue silk tie and he shivered at the intimate touch.
"If you don't stop that, I'm going to ditch this party and find the nearest empty room and have my wicked way with you." Her eyes flashed underneath the chandelier.
"And who is to say that wasn't my original intention?" Dick slid his eager hand down the small of her back to massage the area there. She purred into his ear and pecked lightly at his neck.
"Kory!"
"Dick, my man!" The couple was tackled by their friends, each receiving an enormous hug.
"Hello, Sarah."
"Hey, Vic." The fellow couple couldn't help but hear the terse tone in their words.
"You two don't look entirely happy to see us."
"Richard and I were…"
"…in the middle of a discussion, that's all." Victor eyed his fellow co-worker.
"Right. Anyway, why don't you guys come join the party?" He leaned in closer with his next statement, "The dynamic duo is here." Dick's expression became darker as Victor laughed harder.
"Why are they even here?"
"Apparently, since Soames is a liaison to us and he's a liaison to that top-notch lab, they were invited too."
"I'm going to kick Brandon's ass."
"Come on, man, they aren't that bad."
"Did you have to sit with them at the last charity function and listen to that scientific garbage come out of her mouth? I think I ruptured my vesti nerve." Tempted by the conversation the foursome was having, Marty slid in to input his own opinion.
"Yeah, Vic, next year we're putting you with them." The zaftig African-American practically spit out his champagne.
"You do that and I will string you up by your bal-"
"Children?" The opulent Bruce Wayne appeared by the circle of friends. "Move along, please. If you haven't noticed, you're blocking the doorway."
"Sorry, Mr. Wayne," Kory blushed and grabbed her lady friend, "You boys go have fun. Sarah and I will mingle with the other guests."
"And try to find something to eat," The blonde-haired female complained as she pressed a hand to her abdomen.
"Kor, you don't have to-" She pressed her lips to his- her most favorite way to silence him.
"Do not act like it is a problem, Richard. Go do your boy stuff to rid yourself of all that testosterone you've been building up inside. I will find you later for a dance." Marty and Vic held back their guffaws at their friend's puzzled demeanor.
"Uh… thanks, babe. I think." Kory broke out another smile and headed to the large group of people that were congregating in the adjoining ballroom. Dick awoke from checking out Kory's bare back in that dress with a sharp clap on his shoulder.
"You got it bad, bro." A cheeky dark-haired man blurted out. "Can I suggest a rousing game of killing zombies?" Before his brother could respond, Vic answered for him.
"Sounds good, Timmy. Let's go rid Dick here of some of his testosterone." Dick abruptly ignored his adopted brother's confused gaze and his friends' consistent laughter. Instead, he headed for the den to pummel them in a rousing game of massacring zombies.
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After losing Sarah in a sudden rush of celebrities and police officers, Kory decided that it was time to find her boyfriend. She sincerely hoped that her comment earlier hadn't embarrassed Dick in front of his friends. Even if she'd been here for ten years, she still hadn't fully caught onto what was acceptable small-talk. Were male hormones out of the question?
Kom had suggested watching daytime television to help her blend with the other citizens of America, but most of it was filled with overzealous people acting dramatically or a group of incredibly tanned people yelling and violently pumping their fists. For some time, Kory felt that she would never fit into American society. Then, by some miraculous act from above, she had needed a book for college and low and behold, Nevermore was the only bookstore in the north that had it in stock. By the end of her purchase, Kory had made a new friend and whether Rachel wanted to admit it or not, she had too. It was only a matter of time before Kory met Sarah through Rachel's boyfriend, Garfield, and eventually Victor through Sarah when she had started dating him two years ago. It was odd, how Richard and she were connected for so many months without any knowledge.
Finding no sign of her boyfriend, Kory entered the first set of double doors and almost dropped the silver clutch in her hand. Beautiful cherry-wood shelves held thousands upon thousands of books as far as the eye could see. Near the entrance of the library, several plush sofas and chaises surrounded a roaring marble fireplace. Kory made her way to the fire to warm herself and eyed the art that adorned the walls. Directly above the mantle, a lovely painting of a dark-haired man and blue-eyed woman, a set of pearls strung around her neck, gazed affectionately down at her.
"I thought I'd find you here." She jumped at the sudden voice and listened as footsteps grazed the carpeting, coming towards her slowly.
"I suggest you leave me alone."
"Why? We both know that you're lying right out of your pretty little mouth, cutie." Kory wheeled around to face Weston, fury lining her features.
"You are not allowed to call me that." Her ex-boyfriend chuckled and shook his head, tapping his fingers lazily against his glass of champagne.
"Is that what the prodigal party boy told you to say?"
"No. Richard respects my choice to keep you out of jail," She narrowed her eyes into tiny slits and leaned in towards his form, "Do not make me regret my decision."
"Don't act stupid, Kory. I know you've read the gossip columns on the fanciful Dick Grayson," Weston moved closer to her and she backed up, the bare skin of her back skimming across the warm marble. She shivered slightly and hoped he didn't notice how he made her skin crawl. It had been a mistake, dating him, but she had been too young and too naïve to see what he was doing to her. Now she had a clear picture. "It's only a matter of time, cutie, until he dumps you for another bimbo." The flat of her palm struck his stubble-covered cheek, the slap echoing through the library.
"I may have not been born here, Weston, but I am fully aware of the meaning of that word- which has nothing to do with my relationship to Richard. You should keep it out of our conversation before I find something else to strike." His free hand came up to rub his scarred face.
"You belong with me, Kory. Why can't you see that?"
"You belong in jail. Why can't you leave me alone?"
"It's not that simple." He forced her up against the marble, her hands splayed against the tiles, searching for a weapon of some sort. This time, he would not get the best of her. "You've been blinded, Kory, by whatever this prick has been dangling in front of you."
"He has been dangling nothing in front of me besides grace and chivalry. People can change, Weston. If you could change, I might consider being friends with you again, but until then, I do not wish to see you in my presence." His hand came up to grip her throat and she wheezed for more but received none.
"This isn't Tamaran, princess. You are not allowed to order me around." Kory brought her hands up to attack him, to use the self-defense training she had endured when she'd first moved to Gotham. Before she could begin to use the first technique, though, a booming voice arose from the silence of the room and suddenly she could breathe again.
A large hand wrapped around Weston's arm, hauling him backwards to crumple against the carpet. "I'd start listening to the girl, Redd," Bruce growled at the criminal who was wiping the broken drinking glass from his tuxedo, "Otherwise, I'm not completely sure I can hold my son back from what he'll do to you once he finds out you've been harassing her again."
"No surprise there," Weston grumbled and made his way to the doors, "All you socialites are the same: always playing the hero. If your son wants to deal with me, tell him not to have daddy playing the good cop routine." With a slam of the door, he was out of sight and Bruce turned to the shaken Kory.
"Are you all right?" She nodded meekly, her fingers coming up to brush against where his hand had been.
"Yes. Than- thank you for… getting him off of me."
"Of course. What was he doing in here, anyway?" She tried to laugh dryly, but all that came out was a round of coughing. Ever the gentleman, Bruce escorted her over to the nearest chaise and let her gather herself before continuing.
"Trying to win me back."
"His technique was a bit off, then." The two shared a grin before Kory directed her gaze to another painting, trying to keep her mind off what had occurred. Weston had always been forceful, but he'd never tried to harm her physically. What was wrong with him?
"He never told me." The older man glanced over at his son's newest love interest with a curious interest of his own.
"Hmm?"
"That you were his adopted father." She motioned to the painting hanging above a section of Irish poetry. The picture depicted another man and woman, clearly in a relationship like the first painting, but with features similar to Dick. "Diana was the one who told me at the football game." Bruce opened his mouth to respond.
"They were murdered." Dick interrupted from the entrance, making his way into the large room. "I heard Redd messed with you and came looking." Bruce took that as his cue to leave and did so, shutting the door quietly behind him as he went. Dick took a seat next to Kory and eyed the red marks on her neck with an animal-like ferocity. "What did he do?"
"He is jealous he cannot have me and came in here to tell me that you would cheat on me, so I should be with him." She dutifully ignored the string of curses that came out of her boyfriend as he rambled on about how he could easily get away with murder. "Your father must have passed by and heard me yelling at him. He came and hauled Weston off of me." Another bout of curses. Kory tapped her fingers together nervously.
"What do you want me to do?"
"You are asking me?" He took her shaking hands in his and encased them in his own.
"Yes. I'm not going to overstep boundaries and arrest him unless you want me to. It's up to you, babe."
"I… suppose I could file a restraining order against him. Maybe he will take it as his cue to leave me alone." Dick nodded, holding back the detective voice of reason and listening to the protective boyfriend voice instead.
"Wanna dance?" She gazed uncertainly at him, unsure of what he was trying with her. Did he really expect that she would agree to dance with him after what had just happened? Finally, Kory decided she didn't care what he was trying to pull.
"I'd love to."
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Pop. Pop. Pop.
"Richard?"
"Yes?"
"Erm… why do they keep snapping photos of us together?" Kory motioned her head of red hair to the paparazzi in the bushes below them on the terrace. After numerous rounds of dancing, the couple had made their way to the large balcony that overlooked the entire four acres behind Wayne Manor. To the left, attendees strolled through the gardens that Alfred created each year, always in bloom with whatever plant or flower could survive the current season. To the right, the covered pool and Greek statues- Dick couldn't help but grin, knowing Diana had been the one who wanted those- lined the patio, the urns and bowls above their heads crawling with vines that wrapped around their bodies, much like the dress on his lovely date.
But directly below them, the hounds continued with their cameras, an array of bright flashes popping into their line of vision. With a reminder that there were hundreds of officers in the immediate area, the popping subsided and the only sound came from the distant voices to the left and the dull classical music playing in the ballroom.
"We're Gotham's hottest couple, Kor. They all want a shot for their columns."
"So… we are like Brad and Angelina?" Dick faced her quizzically.
"You mean to tell me that you don't know who Hugh Hefner is but you know who they are?" She shrugged nonchalantly in his arms.
"I watch more action movies than I do Playboy videos."
"Can't argue with that logic. And yes, we're like them, except without all of the kids running around." He watched as she untangled herself from his embrace and moved down the balcony, running her thin fingers along the stone ledge.
"How did they die?"
"Brad and Angelina? They're still alive, Kory." She turned to face him and he was lost again in that gaze, those green emeralds shining up at him from the soft light the sconces emitted. Exhaling sadly, she shook her head and he felt sour inside. She wanted to know something else.
"Your parents, Richard. That is what I ask you for." Not trusting himself to remain calm, he ripped his eyes away from her and to the aging stone below, intent on releasing his anger at the inability to trust no one on it. His fists crushed the cracked edges, turning the stone into dust underneath his knuckles. For a moment, the scene flashed, and he could see himself gripping the wood of the stand, waiting on his mother to reach out to him.
"Richard?" Mary and Kory asked. They both needed something from him. His mother needed his hands, so they could finish the act. His girlfriend needed his trust, so she could piece together the puzzle he had created in front of her by letting her into his life. Was it worth the risk?
For his mother, he would never know, because the moment she stretched out her arms to take him with her, the rope had snapped. He could see them below, falling and falling, and he shut his eyes tightly so he couldn't see when the falling stopped. Looking back, he kept his eyes shut his entire life after that moment, right until Bruce's old colleague offered him a position in the police academy. Maybe, then, things could be set right. As an officer of the law, he could bring justice to those who had been wronged, just like he had.
Even if it was too late for him, it wasn't too late for someone else.
For Kory, though, the knowledge that he could still take that leap and take her hand ate at him. The stone underneath his hands crumbled again. She was right there, patiently waiting for him to say something. He was right here, gathering up the courage to speak.
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Above on the overhanging balcony, the princess and the intruder stood, tensely watching one another. A smile came to the lips. Ariel's luscious hair glimmered against the moonlight, some of the curls coming loose from their tightly-wound enclosure. A creature so pure with a monster so filthy.
"A terrible contrast you two make, my dear." Said the glazed eyes as they hovered on the princess above. "If you were Rapunzel, I'd ask you to let down your hair and take you away. But it is too soon for that and you are Ariel. My sixth princess." Knowing the lips were speaking to no one but themselves, the figure hid from sight as the intruder gazed downward, his blue eyes lost in a world of despair. A dark chuckle emitted from the lips before the light shone on the hands and face and someone called a name.
"Yeah, buddy, get over here and have another round!" The glaze faded away with a snap of the fingers and the lips formed into a smirk. The party was merely beginning.
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"When I was younger, I was an acrobat in a circus act called the 'Flying Graysons' that consisted of my mother, my father, and I. We were phenomenal- we were the only ones that could perform triple flips and the only ones that would perform without a net." He paused, raking a hand through his short black hair. "It was one of the reasons people wanted to see us- we weren't afraid to fly through the air and show our skills because we were that good. My father didn't see the need for safety when we were practically perfection on the bars. Then again, sometimes my father was wrong, and he ended up being so on that night.
It's a packed house, hundreds of on-lookers, and I'm waiting on my mother to stretch out her arms for me to take and she's saying my name. I'm going to answer her the way I always do- by grabbing her hands and finishing the act, but I don't have the time to do so." Instead of his mother's hands, Kory's were on his shoulders, pressing affectionately on the spot his friends had slapped jokingly earlier. Leaning into her touch, he continued.
"All they were after was money. They killed my parents over money. Something… something you could rip apart so easily, something that shouldn't have mattered as much as two innocent lives. But… some mafia boss wanted money from the circus and when they wouldn't pay up, he decided to take something of theirs that brought in the money he wanted.
I watched my parents fall to their deaths because some son of a bitch messed with a cable. And… and then as I'm staring at their gravestones, Bruce shows up and announces he's adopting me because I can't be left alone at my young age." Dick grumbled something incoherently and Kory kept her hands on him, not about to let him go. "That's it. You know the rest."
"Thank you." They're the only words she spoke and they're the only ones that he needed to hear. He brings her into his arms this time, inhaling the scent of her perfume and burying his face in her hair.
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Intended on keeping some sort of a party going after they left the previous one, Dick and Kory returned to her home around midnight. While Dick collapsed on the couch and turned on the news to see the sports highlights, Kory strolled to the bathroom to rid herself of the flowers in her hair and the makeup covering her face. Tousling the wild red curls, she shooed away the butterflies fluttering in her stomach and made her way back to the living room.
There, still looking delectable in his suit and tie, Dick yelled at the television as football highlights played on the screen. Spotting the light switch that turned off the power to her television, she flipped it at once and watched in amusement as her boyfriend almost tore apart a throw pillow. Finally, his tirade ended and she cleared her throat, leaning with one bare shoulder against the hallway.
"Want to make yourself useful and help me with my dress?" His eyes widened significantly and she held back the giggles that simmered with the butterflies in her stomach.
"Hu- huh?"
"Come on, handsome." Asking no questions, Dick pounced.
AN: The nerve Dick mentions is called the "vestibulocochlear nerve" and is responsible for transmitting sound from the inner ear to the brain. I shortened it for sake of sentence fluidity.
The couple I was referring to was Special Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan from the show "Bones." I love them dearly, but I know that other people of the law might not be so thrilled about them (due to her Asperger syndrome-like social interaction and quirky attitude).
If you would like a photo of Kory's dress, I have a link that I could PM you if you request it. Albeit the dress in the picture doesn't come in lavender, everything else is the same.
Chapter Eight: "Beautiful" by Trading Yesterday