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~Later that night~
I sighed in ecstasy as I kicked off the towering heels I'd worn to work that day on the porch and opened the door to the manor.
"Alfred? Alfred, I'm home!" I called into the empty house. I got no answer. Confused, I made my way to the spacious kitchen to see a piece of paper sitting by the phone.
Miss Delaney,
I've been called away and should be back within two days. Grocery shopping is done and the kitchen is stocked for your needs.
~Alfred
P.S. Your mother called. She asked you how you're fairing… and if you'd like to move back home.
P.P.S. I said no.
I laughed out loud, the sound echoing through the vacant halls. It was so like Alfred to tease Mom endlessly.
My mother was always worried that Alfred and I were lonely up in this "old house" and begged for me on a regular basis to move back in with them. She'd even offered to hire Alfred as our butler when I argued that I couldn't leave him. But we both turned her down and she'd been throwing the subject around in every conversation we had since.
Padding up the steps with my heels in hand, I entered my room and dropped them on the floor. I pulled out a pair of pajama pants and an old University T-shirt before changing and throwing my work clothes in my hamper. Stopping, I studied my room.
It was a basic white room, freshly painted after I'd gotten tired of looking at the chartreuse color it had been before.
"Mrs. Wayne always hated this room. Her mother in law never let her alter a thing in the house. She'd be very grateful to you for changing it," Alfred had commented when I'd brought home paint cans and rollers. I'd laughed and we'd gotten to work.
My own bed, a queen sized four poster my father had bought me, sat under a picture of the Eiffel Tower I'd taken myself on a visit to Aunt Sophie. I was standing at the base of the tower, looking up at an angle. It was a gorgeous picture that my mother wanted to submit to a travel magazine. I'd refused, wanting to keep that one moment sacred in my heart. Because it was the day that Bruce Wayne gave me my first real kiss.
*Flashback*
The click of the shutter alerted Bruce to the fact that I'd taken yet another picture of him and he frowned.
"Lane, c'mon. You're missing Paris with all those pictures of me. You see me every day!" he exclaimed, trying to swipe my new Nikon from my hands. I giggled, dancing out of his way.
"S'il vous plaît Bruce? One more?" I begged, pouting. At thirteen, I'd realized that with one little bat of my eyes, I could have Bruce wrapped around my finger. He sighed, but smiled brilliantly for the last photo allotted. I laughed.
"Magnifique!" I crowed, throwing my hands in the air. He shook his head before glancing down the road.
"C'mon Lane! Let's hit the Eiffel Tower!" he said, pulling me over. I allowed myself to be towed, snapping pictures of stupid things on my way.
We both paused at the base, staring at it in awe. I'd seen and heard so much about the landmark, but seeing it in person was overwhelming.
"Whoa," I breathed, craning my neck to see more. Suddenly, I heard the tell-tale click that signified Bruce had taken a picture. I turned towards him and he was blushing gently.
"Sorry, but it was a perfect shot…" he trailed off. I laughed, shaking my head before holding my hand out for the camera.
"Ok, Mister Wayne. I need one picture of you in front of it. You promised!" I added at his pointed look. Again, he was putty in my hands and stood like a trooper as I shot the picture before we traded places and he took the picture of me.
"Aimeriez-vous une photo ensemble, mademoiselle?" asked an older gentleman who'd seen us posing. I grinned and nodded before grabbing Bruce's hand and standing next to him in front of the tower.
"What did he ask?" Bruce questioned.
"'Would you like a picture together, miss?'" I translated. He nodded understandingly before we smiled at the camera and the man took the picture.
"Merci monsieur, Nous apprécions vraiment- BRUCE!" I screamed as I was suddenly lifted bridal style into his arms.
"One more? Uh… S'il vous plaît?" he asked in broken French. The man nodded, positively beaming and Bruce gave me a look.
"Go with it!" he ordered, chuckling. I laughed and posed with my arms out as the man took another picture before handing the camera back and meeting up with his wife, who smiled sweetly at us as she took the man's arm. My heart swelled at the pure love on their faces and I sighed.
"They're so happy. I wish I could feel like that someday," I breathed. I looked back to Bruce, before realizing I was still in his arms.
"Uhh-Bruce? You can put me down now," I reminded. He set me carefully on my feet, but still hung onto my waist. I furrowed my brow at him, but froze as I met his eyes.
They were darker than I'd ever seen them before, even when he was upset, and trained on me. It was like he was staring right through me, into my soul. His intense gaze unnerved me and I felt my heart speed up. Gradually, bit by bit, we leaned into each other and his lips met mine.
It was as if the entire world stopped, as cliché as it sounds. Everything melted away except him as he cupped my delicate cheek in his palm and I placed my hands on his broad chest. The kiss was gentle and tender, beyond what I'd ever expected my first real kiss to be. Nothing prepared me for the rush of emotions that flooded my brain.
Bruce had never given a clue that he felt more than friendship for me. I'd known my entire life he harbored a secret crush-and gradually, love- for Rachel Dawes. He'd confided in me that he could picture them married someday, having kids and raising a family in Wayne Manor together. So why was he here with me, giving me my first real kiss? It had always been chaste pecks on the forehead, cheek, or the crown of my head. What had changed?
We finally broke apart, my breathing ragged and hands shaking. We stood in silence until I remembered where we were. Quickly, I turned around and snapped a quick picture of the tower once more, before spinning around and masking my whirling thoughts.
"Okay, I'm ready to go!" I chirped, a little too high-pitched for my normal tone and started for the waiting car at the end of the lane. Bruce silently followed me, not saying a word until we reached the hotel.
*End of Flashback*
Later, when I developed the film from that trip, that last picture was one of my best. It captured everything about Paris in one single shot. It also left me a reminder of my first kiss- the best kiss I'd ever received.
I smiled in spite of myself. Only thirteen and receiving my very first kiss from my best friend- who was 18 and quite the looker if I do say so myself.
Collapsing on my bed, my thoughts turned yet again to Bruce Wayne. Questions swirled through my head: Where was he? Was he okay? Did he have a family? He was only-
"Oh my GOD!" I shrieked, tumbling to the floor in shock. Picking myself up, I bounded over to my wall calendar to check the date. The eighth of February…
"Fils de pute!" I cursed. I couldn't believe that I could have forgotten.
Bruce's 30th birthday was in eleven days. The 19th of February.
"No," I whispered. It couldn't be happening. It couldn't already be February. Not now. Not when Earle was on my back.
The month of February had been especially hard for Alfred and I since Bruce left. The first birthday after his disappearance, I'd locked myself in my dorm room at U of G and wouldn't come out for anything. It was only when my roommate, Cara, threatened to call campus security on me did I let her in.
"I never liked that old hag anyway," I muttered out loud, dropping into the plush purple chair by the large bay window that looked out onto the front lawn.
Ever since then, Alfred and I had shut ourselves in on the 19th of February and grieved quietly for our lost family. Even Rachel joined us on rare occasions, but didn't stay too long after receiving her job as Assistant D.A. That alone kept her busy enough to keep sane around this time of year. She didn't have the time to mourn like I did.
I felt tears begin rolling down my cheeks as I clutched Fluff, the stuffed rabbit I'd had since I was born, closer to my chest and inhaled a shaky breath.
Seven years and it still hurts so much, I thought bitterly. Grabbing a blanket, I made my way to the only place I could seek solace from-Bruce's old room.
The old, wooden door creaked ominously as it swung open. Everything was how I'd left it the last time I couldn't sleep and crept in here in the middle of the night. Although I hadn't told him, I was sure Alfred had figured out that I swapped rooms sometimes. If he did, he thankfully didn't mention it to me.
Wrapping myself in the sheets that still smelled faintly of Bruce, I remembered the first time I'd used Bruce's room-I was ten and had just had the worst nightmare in my short life.
*Flashback*
I screamed shrilly, sitting straight up in the unfamiliar bed at Wayne Manor and clutching at the collar of my pajamas. Sweat streamed down my forehead and body as my breathing was ragged and my heart raced.
"Mon Dieu," I whispered, still trying to control my pulse. I brought my knees up to my chest and listened for the tell-tale signs that Alfred of Bruce had heard me and were coming to see what was wrong.
I had been staying at the manor while my parents helped Aunt Sophie move back to France and get settled there. They'd felt Alfred was the perfect guardian and I spent almost every day there after school anyway. But lately, I'd been having horrible nightmares that eventually I would forget and slip back to sleep.
Tonight was different. Tonight, I'd dreamed that Bruce was hurt. And I couldn't help him.
Tears began falling onto my bare knees as I remembered the struggle I'd endured. It was Crime Alley- the same alley Bruce's parents had been killed in- and Bruce was fighting the man that had killed his parents. I remembered screaming; for him to get away, to not do this, stay away from him, until I'd heard the gunshot and Bruce's body collapsing on the ground.
That's when I woke up, screaming.
Practically falling out of bed, I scrambled to the door and wrenched it open in my haste to get out of the room. I padded quietly down the hall to the familiar door and pushed it open.
Bruce was fast asleep, his tousled brown hair splayed all over his pillow and his face peaceful. The covers were drawn tightly to his chin, taut as they threatened to come undone from the bed.
"Bruce? Bruce, are you awake?" I whispered, gently shaking his shoulder. He moaned quietly, opening one eye to peer at me.
"Lane? What's wrong?" he mumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes. At fifteen, his voice was deeper and manlier. It sent a wave of comfort through my body.
"I-I-I had a…nightmare," I stuttered, looking down in embarrassment.
"What about? Are you okay?" he asked, slightly more awake and no doubt noticing the tear tracks on my cheeks. He sat up and pulled me closer to him.
"It was- about you," I choked out, "You were…in that…alley and he-he-" I couldn't finish, bursting into another round of tears. Bruce caught my meaning and pulled me into a tight embrace.
"Shhh… its okay, Laney. I'm here and I'm safe. I'm right here. Nothing's going to happen to me," he murmured, stroking my hair.
When Bruce had turned thirteen, my mother warned me that he was growing up and wouldn't have time for someone as young as me anymore.
"He's a young man now, my love," she'd said, "He will want to spend time with others his age."
In that moment, with Bruce rubbing my back gently and soothing my frazzled nerves, I knew my mother was wrong. I knew in my deepest of hearts, that Bruce would always make time for me. He would always have a place in his heart for the little three year old who'd barged into his room and asked him to play princesses with her. It would always be Bruce and Laney.
"Bruce?" I asked after this epiphany had hit me, "Can-can I stay in here with you? Please?"
Without another word, he scooted over and made room for me next to him, tucking the sheet around me and hugging me close.
"I love you, Bruce," I spoke softly, resting my head against his chest and hearing his heart beat out a steady thrum, "Je t'aime."
"I love you too, Laney," he replied, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head.
Translate:
S'il vous plaît: Please
Magnifique: Wonderful
Aimeriez-vous une photo ensemble, mademoiselle?: Would you like a picture together, miss?
Merci monsieur, Nous apprécions vraiment-: Thank you sir, We really appreciate-
Fils de pute!: Son of a bitch!
Mon Dieu: my God
A/N: Hello! I think a week is enough for updates since school for me will be starting up soon and I really want to pound out some extra chapters before then. Okay, guys: the Thursday I posted the second chapter, I got 127 hits on this story! I was mindblown. Thank you to all that visited this story and favorited it or put it on alert or even put me on alert! It made my day. See you next week! ~Brooke