Disclaimer: I do not own and am not, in any way, affiliated with the Dark Knight franchise.
"Destroying oneself, he thought ruefully, should always be done at a deliberate pace."
― Mark Beauregard, The Whale: A Love Story
Interlude – II
The thing about a revolution was that it kept your mind and body occupied at all times.
In the days since leaving Audrey, Barsad had thrown himself back into work with an impressive and terrifying fervor. Not that he thought much of his job lately, which mostly involved keeping an eye on Talia and making sure that no harm came to her while she continued to moonlight as Miranda Tate.
"You seem troubled, brother," Bane commented one day. They had been standing in the courtroom watching as yet another minted toff was brought before that utter nutter Crane. Barsad's shoulders slumped, exasperated with how perceptive the man could be. This was not the time or the place to have a chin wag about women.
"Just a bit knackered." He rolled his eyes at the look he received in response. "That's all, mate," he replied in a tone that brokered no further discussion.
The truth was he couldn't stand going to the flat anymore. It was too quiet and all he seemed to want to do was get pissed on whiskey and lay in bed. The pillows still smelled of her shampoo. He found bits she'd left behind all over: a book she had been in the middle of reading, her toothbrush, and once, to his wonder and frustration, a pair of lacey black knickers that had been buried between the sofa cushions.
Audrey Campbell had bewitched him mind, body, and soul- or however the bloody quote went. If he closed his eyes, he could see her smile, catch a flash of her face when she was miffed at him. In the silent hours of early morning he would swear he caught a hint of her laughter.
He desperately needed to forget her.
Today would hopefully provide the distraction he needed. He leaned against the brick wall of the alley accompanied by three men who were equally restless. Out of habit, he checked his rifle.
The familiar rumble of the truck put them all on alert.
"They're here!" someone called excitedly.
"Right," he said, standing up straight. "Don't shoot unless they give you a reason. Bane wants them alive."
With a half-smirk plastered on his face, he led his men forward, surrounding Commissioner Gordon and the other officers.
"Commissioner Gordon," he greeted. "You're under arrest."
Gordon looked confused, betrayed even, but only for the briefest of moments. He couldn't lose face in front of his men. "On whose authority?" he challenged. You cheeky bastard. To his surprise, Barsad discovered he was impressed.
"The people of Gotham."
They went much more quietly than he would have anticipated, but no complaints there. Made life easier for him.
There were just under 24 hours left, he had made a smooth, highly anticipated arrest and she was still on his bloody mind.