p style="text-align: left;"~*~*~br /76. Lux Aurumque br /~*~*~br /br /emDisclaimer: I do not own the title 'Lux Aurumque'. Lyrics and translation are as follows. I highly suggest taking a listen to the song by Eric Whitacre—either band or choral version is fine! I did listen to the band version as I wrote this. I own my own characters and story lines. I hope you all enjoy!/embr /br /emLux,/embr /emCalida gravisque pura velut aurum/embr /emEt canunt angeli molliter/embr /emmodo natum./embr /br /emLight,/embr /emwarm and heavy as pure gold/embr /emand angels sing softly/embr /emto the new-born babe./embr /br /br /I was possessed by the Land Down Under. It held some kind of ethereal spell over my very existence. Each day I awoke, I found a new reason to live, and I knew it wasn't because I was away from the Joker. I knew it was because I was in this new, exotic place that both resembled my home but also couldn't be any more different. I was immersed in so many things I had taken for granted, like using the metric system while cooking—who the hell would have thought that would have been such a big deal!? Well, try cooking using a recipe calling for preheating an oven to 200 degrees celsius with ingredients using 500 grams of 'beef mince', a courgette and a capsicum. What the hell is a capsicum?! And a courgette? It sounded like something I would use at a hospital to dis-impact patients from severe constipation! br /br /I practiced and I learned. I googled everything. How to convert celsius to fahrenheit, how many grams equals one pound. But the longer I remained in Australia, the less I had to use google and the more I understood the language. You never do realize just how different English is when outside of the States. It was humbling and just the refreshing breath of air I needed to ground myself. br /br /***br /br /The first two weeks I spent with Bruce were magical in the sense that everything was so new and foreign. That was when I discovered how I took cooking for granted. br /br /Back in Gotham, Bruce had a professional chef and cleaning ladies and all kinds of luxuries that I never dreamt of having while growing up in my modest home. But in Bruce's Sydney penthouse, he needed to recruit his hired help. Feeling a bit absurd, I objected. I was well within my rights as a human to cook and clean for myself! It was at this insistence and Bruce's hesitation, that I haughtily delved into our Australian kitchen and cookbooks. br /br /Eager to show my friend just how skilled I was in the kitchen, I dragged Bruce into a whirlwind of recipes which led us into a drunken circus with empty wine bottles and us getting take out ('take away' to the Aussies!). It took us into the next couple of days for us to finally give in to google searching the discrepancies between our American English and Australian English. br /br /To our express relief, a courgette was a common zucchini, a capsicum is just a bell pepper, and obviously, 500 grams of beef mince turned out to be about a pound of ground beef. Lost in the translation, Bruce and I melted into our Australian life together. I like to think that most people we met thought we were a romantic item, but only Bruce and I knew the explicit truth to that. He had turned into that best friend, brotherly-love kind of figure I so desperately needed in my life. It wasn't like we hadn't lived together before—that huge stint of time we spent in Boston together while I was getting my nurse practitioner's degree proved to be a solidifying moment for the two of us. But my time with him in Sydney was very different. It felt like Bruce was doing more just than just being my best friend—he was guiding me down my new path in life in my new place of residence. br /br /A few days before Bruce was to depart Australia for Gotham, he surprised me. br /br /"Bruce, what are these tickets?" I asked, fingering through the papers on the kitchen counter. Bruce smiled up at me and raised his eyebrows. br /br /"I thought you'd never ask," he responded, taking the tickets from me and fanning them out with a brochure. br /br /"The Great Barrier Reef…" I read aloud as my heart started beating faster, "oh my God Bruce, are we going to the reef?!" br /br /"Not just to the reef, Giada—we're going to sail the Whitsundays," br /br /My heart stopped. I heard about the Whitsundays. They are supposedly some of the most beautiful islands in the world, dispersed just off the coast of Queensland. br /br /"I can't believe we're going there!" I exclaimed, "when do we go?"br /br /"Today, of course," Bruce laughed, "pack your things," br /br /I ran from the kitchen and packed my bags with everything I could possibly need while sunbathing and sailing—bathing suits, sunglasses and flip flops ('thongs' to the Aussies!) br /br /br /***br /br /As I sprawled out across the deck of our private yacht, the salty sea air and heated glow of the sun bathed and cleansed me. I felt renewed and rejuvenated. Aside from the miraculous views that were etched into my memories while we snorkeled and dived, one thing became very clear to me as I later recalled the Whitsunday trip. br /br /Our trip to the Whitsundays was a critical turning point in my life—I never thought of the Joker, not even once. He was the furthest thing from my mind in the furthest place from me on the planet, and I felt free. I was free at last! br /br /But nothing I could have done or said would have made Bruce stay. At the end of his trip to Sydney, I was deeply grieved to see him go back to the States. I sincerely hoped with all my might that after his departure that Australia's thrill and novelty would keep possessing me. br /br /I stood on the balcony at sunset. After our beach trip to the Whitsundays, I had forgotten it was autumn in Sydney. The days grew increasingly shorter with each passing day, though the weather itself remained mostly temperate, thank the gods! Hopefully that would be my saving grace to get me through this impending winter of short days and long lonely nights. br /br /"Nice sunset, huh," Bruce mused as he stepped onto the balcony, sliding the door behind him. He perched himself beside me and peered over the edge. As Batman, I knew Bruce had no fear of heights. I wondered if he missed being Batman—if that was perhaps the real reason he couldn't ever leave Gotham. br /br /"Yeah, it's beautiful, but setting far too early for my taste," I winked at him, "I've always loved those long days of summer," br /br /"In time, my friend, in time," Bruce chuckled, "you will hardly notice winter here compared to where we came from!"br /br /"You're certainly right on that one! Those Boston nor'easters won't be missed by me at all!" I laughed. br /br /As the sun set below the horizon I couldn't help but have a surge of memory flood over me. As much as I tried suppressing it, my mind raced back to my last night in Boston. I felt like eons since we left Boston! It had only been a few weeks, but it felt like a lifetime. I couldn't let myself forget Boston. As much as I tried, it was my soul. Sydney may have stolen my heart, but I was Boston through to the core of my being. This meant only one more thing left for my memory to remember—the Boston skyline and Bruce's hotel suite at the Four Seasons. I closed my eyes and saw the city lights of Boston's Prudential and John Hancock towers. br /br /As I breathed in deeply the Sydney city air, which smelled very different to me from Boston's, I remembered my city. I only let myself remember how I felt that night on the balcony. It was an unusually warm evening in early April and I was full of love, serenely at peace with myself and with my life. I channeled those thoughts into my memory of the final night. br /br /"Giada, are you alright?" Bruce's soft voice cut through my visualization. My eyes opened right as my mind felt the unwelcome arm of the Joker slide around me. My heart racing, I glanced over at Bruce. The sky was now a light purple twilight to the east while in the west, all was a dark blue turning to black. br /br /"I'm fine," I smiled up at him, "I was just taking it all in," I paused before I continued, "I am just really going to miss you, buddy," I laughed. br /br /"I know you are. Don't worry though. I am just a phone call or SKYPE away," Bruce smiled down at me and wrapped an arm about me. I buried my face into his chest as he held me close. br /br /Taking in Bruce's familiar clean scent, I felt my muscle relax and a wave of tranquility flowed over my troubled heart. br /br /"I hope you know just how much I appreciate your friendship, Bruce," br /br /"I do know, and I hope that in some way, I may have inspired to you to be the person I know you are," Bruce's voice was soft and comforting. br /br /I nodded my head, "you have no idea the impact you've had on my life," br /br /"I urge you to find in yourself some peace of mind and spirit. I know that so far you've felt yourself at ease here in Australia. My hope for you is that you will love yourself enough to stay, and to visit us back in the States at your leisure,"br /br /I was silent as I contemplated all that Bruce spoke. My last time in Boston may have been my last time—forever. The last time I saw my mother may be the last time I'll ever see her—unless she braves the long flight over here to visit. It was a strange feeling of hope and sadness that plagued me that night on the balcony. I knew I needed this rebirth of myself, and Bruce loved me enough to know how much I needed it. br /br /"Just promise me that you will get that skilled working visa I told you about—you need to apply for it, but you've got the credentials and work experience. You shouldn't have any problems at all, but if you do, do not hesitate to let me know," Bruce continued, "because your travel visa is near expiring," br /br /I let his words wash over me. I was living in Australia. My new home was Sydney. But I didn't have to stay here—I could visit Brisbane, or Melbourne and maybe live there. Or I could venture across the vast, expanse of the Outback to the western coast and visit Perth. And there was always the south and Adelaide and my supposed distant relatives who lived there. Or maybe I'd go north to Darwin or Cairns. I did really love the Whitsundays—maybe the needed nurse practitioners of a mental health variety. Maybe I didn't have to stay in Australia at all—New Zealand wasn't all too far. The possibilities seemed endless. And for the first time in my life, I felt a new hope for myself. I was reborn. /p