In the space of time before Talia learned about Pavel's sudden death and upheaval to her plans of revenge, Bane was finally able to solve a mystery.
He always knew where Clara was, but Maya had proven to be a powerful adversary in spiriting Clara away at random times, somehow slipping through Bane's watch.
Bane grew frustrated when he didn't know where Clara disappeared to, he was not one that was accustomed to having answers withheld from him.
He didn't know that Maya had developed a soft spot for the political socialite, had learned how much she enjoyed ballet and had secured her a rarely used room on the compound where a portable dance floor was stored when Fabiana had her annual New Year's bash.
Bane and Maya recognized the primitive genetic sequencing in each other, between them was a mix of neurological complexities and physical prowess. They'd have to capitulate in a sense around each other or they'd get distracted and then someone would get hurt.
Bane followed Maya as she led Clara through the compound, the women knew the path well and navigated their way effortlessly, Bane having to move at a fast clip to keep up with them.
Maya didn't hear Bane approach until one of the loose tiles squeaked in protest under the weight of his foot as air escaped.
Maya pivoted on her heel towards him, her hands prepared to defend, trap and truss.
They regarded each other in silence before nodding, a shared moment of mutual respect before Bane completely forgot where he was in time and space when his eyes found Clara spinning in a series of pirouettes across the dance floor that gleamed dully under the lights.
The rods and cones of his eyes danced in an epileptic flight within his orbs as he became mesmerized by the sight of her femoral artery running up the smooth skin of her inner thigh, the artery engorged with the blood flow from the physical pressure she put upon her body.
The ballet that Strauss had died the year before he finished its composition played gently from an antique victrola.
Bane's central nervous system became bloated from suppressed kinetic energy as he watched Clara etendre, pliier, relever, sauter, tourner, glisser, and elancer in her light, gauzy layers.
Clara stopped moving after landing a grand jete, catching Bane on her periphery. Bane watched a bead of sweat roll down the curve of her chin and front of her throat, briefly pooling at the base of the hollow of her throat before rolling down between her breasts, disappearing into the stretchy fabric top that Maya had found for her amongst Fabiana's clothes.
"This dance is better with a partner, there must be much you wish to perform," Bane murmured, his eyes drinking in every bit of her, loose tendrils of her hair stuck to her sweaty, glistening skin, her chest heaving.
Clara smiled, pleased to find his recognition of her very favorite musical composition. "You're familiar?"
"Very much so," he stated easily, his hands clasped nonthreatening at the base of his spine, looking around the room at the windows that Clara had asked Maya to help her cover with dark cloths in an effort to carve out some semblance of privacy on the busy compound and all the eyes she knew were upon her as well as the eyes she knew were upon her that she never saw.
Bane noticed that Maya gave Clara as much space to herself as she could, secreting herself to a quiet alcove that still allowed her a clear view of the political socialite.
"Would you like to dance?" Clara asked as she held out her forearm and curtsied dramatically.
Clara couldn't see his smile but was certain he must've been with the subtle change in his eyes, some of the energy lessened as Bane tipped an imaginary top hat and closed the distance between them, raising his hands to the expected position of performing the ballet as it should be, the way in which Strauss would be proud.
Bane and Clara's bodies moved together as though they'd been dancing together from the moment of cell division and gene sequencing.
His hands effortlessly lifted and twirled her across the polished wood floor with her, both of them began to breathe harder as they were locked in Strauss's story through music, the vision he wasn't able to finish before pneumonia robbed him of his life.
The dance ended with Clara cradled in Bane's strong embrace, his arms around her, hands gripping her body.
Sweat was visible on his forehead and her naked skin as they remained locked together, the music dying until the only sound left was their combined ragged breathing.
Clara found herself thinking back to the chess move Bane had made in the cloak of night, the chess move she was supposed to answer. She couldn't help but smile as she remembered looking down at the chess board that morning and finding that he'd made an absolutely mad chess move, exposing castles to be plundered before they could be built.
"It was quite a foolish move you made with your bishop, aren't you trying to win," Clara teased as she stared up into Bane's unblinking eyes.
"It wasn't as foolish as you asking me to dance," Bane rasped, sliding his hands along her body to turn his touch closer to intimate as he brought her to her feet, keeping his hands firmly gripping her hips, his scarred fingertips resting on the supple swell of her bottom, making Clara's face glow from his strained, unspoken words.
A sudden burst of activity and noise around the estate disrupted the potency in the air between Bane and Clara.
Talia had found out about Pavel's plane being destroyed mid-flight, remains scattered over tall green grass.
She'd sounded the alarm for everyone to rush to her side, prepare for her orders.
Bane blinked hard, reluctantly removing his hands from Clara's body before taking a faltering step backwards.
Neither spoke, there didn't need to be any words exchanged between him as he quietly left the room, leaving her in the middle of the dance floor as Strauss's symphonic vision that had remained unfinished as he died of pneumonia tapered off, leaving her hearing the sound of her own ragged breathing.
Bane walked swiftly towards Talia's where she was shouting, her anger making her spit her words out in a mixture of the many languages she knew. As Bane continued his steady gait, he curled his fingers into loose fists, his hands were damp from moving along Clara's body.
He wished he could lick his fingertips, pausing in the middle of the hallway as he pressed his fingertips against the front of his mask, inhaling deeply, trying to pull all of Clara's scent inside his damaged body, inflating his lungs.
Bane felt himself being drawn back to Clara, as though she was positively magnetic.
"Talia be damned."
The single thought passed briefly from one hemisphere to the other in Bane's brain before he resumed stalking towards Talia's room, the movement of his formidable frame cleared people out of his path.
He'd never dance with Clara again on the estate, it had been too much for him.
But he'd never miss the opportunity to watch her dance again.
Clara wouldn't know he was watching.
Maya would be aware of Bane's presence on the other side of the wall.
Bane found Talia's spacious suite looking more like a war room with satin sheets and sheer drapes.
The woman herself was pacing, fury filled her vascular system as she shuffled through a stack of printed pages from Clara's dark web chirpings about her father and a multitude amongst multiple governments.
Talia was now left wracking her brain for how to fulfill her father's destiny and avenge his death without Doctor Leonid Pavel.