Disclaimer: I don't own The Dark Knight. I do own this plot, and Jenny and her brother.

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Bruce


As it turns out, I'm still late by half an hour anyway, despite all my precautions.

Unsurprisingly, Pasquale's is just as busy as always—much busier than when Joker and I were here. Nearly every table is full, and everyone is happy. The music that Joker so cheerily criticized is politely commented on by polite businessmen in polite suits with polite manicures and polite smiles. Their ladies smile politely and drink their drinks in polite, practiced sips, their long painted nails glittering in the sickly overhead lights.

For a moment, I almost feel sick.

But then I remember why I'm here—and I find Jenny.

Jenny looks ready to leave, picking up her purse and paying for her half-eaten crepes—which are being packed into a doggie bag as I walk in the door. Our eyes meet, and she smiles good-naturedly as I move toward her, an apology already on my lips.

"Sorry I'm late. I got…held up. Merry Christmas, by the way." I take out my wallet. "Can I pay for that?"

Jenny smiles and shakes her head. "Merry Christmas. No, it's okay. I've got it."

"Oh." I look toward the table. "…Is there any way I can make this up to you?"

"I do have to go down to the bookstore to pick up something…"

I smile. "Sure. Actually, I can drive you to wherever you need to be…if you don't mind riding a motorcycle."

Jenny nods. "That would be fine." She holds up the doggie bag. "Want some?"

I smooth back my hair, feeling uncomfortable. "Thanks, but I've already eaten. Sorry."

"That's not a problem. More for my brother." Jenny smiles.

Oh.

--

I hand Jenny an extra helmet as I rev up the engine, feeling uncomfortable as she wraps her arms around me for support.

My mind flashes to another, very different pair of hands wrapped around me, touching me, and I force myself to think of other things.

"So, how old is your brother?" I ask loudly over the roar of the bike as we speed past other cars on the intersection.

"Seven," Jenny yells back. "He's obsessed with Batman!"

I have to admit I'm flattered…but of course I can't say that. I wait until we get to the bookstore to continue the conversation—it's hard to talk over so much noise.

I shut off the bike and hop off gingerly (my legs are a bit stiff this morning), extending a hand to Jenny. She takes it.

"My brother's name is Thomas," Jenny continues, a small, sad smile on her face. "My parents named him after your father. He's a hemophilic, so he doesn't get out much to play with others. But…he's still happy, somehow. I think one of the Odessa Family's children is a friend of his—they both go to the same private school."

"I'm glad." I smile. "I would like to meet Thomas someday."

"I'm not entirely sure it'll work out, but we'll see."

"Good." I give her a smile that isn't plastic—a rare thing from Bruce Wayne. "I'm looking forward to it."

I lean down, hoping maybe if I charm her into a date I can keep my mind off last night, and this morning's events.

Jenny looks down at her feet, then at me. "Bruce…?"

"Yes?" I stop. "Is something wrong?"

Jenny shakes her head. "No, no, just…" She gives me a level stare, but the paleness of her skin and slight strain in her voice tells me something's up.

"…I've decided to transfer to Metropolis a week from today. There's a job for me there at a company called LexCorp."

"Why?" I ask, but I think I already know the answer.

"Gotham's just too unpredictable, Bruce. The Mob, the Joker, the violence—it's all too much. My family's getting more stressed by the day." Jenny sighs and looks down at the pavement. "I'm sorry, Bruce."

"Don't be. It's your decision," I find myself replying coolly, as though I'm at a board meeting instead of a painful "breakup" of sorts. "Maybe we can keep in touch?"

Jenny smiles. "I'd like that. You're a good friend."

Suddenly I find myself waiting for nightfall, when I can don the cowl again. I'm going to need the stress relief.