Chapter 9
Author: It cracks me up writing about seemingly mundane relationship interactions that aren't generally discussed or elaborated on because they are either gross or just…-shrug-. PREPARE TO BE ELABORATED UPON. Please allow me to get a few of those off of my chest as I venture into: 'How Myra and Bane deal with those 'things''. It will resume to our regular scheduled program after that. Let me know if you find those 'bits' funny though, because I'll add more :P I'm always curious to know what *YOU* like to see and what you'd like me to elaborate on MORE/elaborate LESS on. Don't be shy! I'm also warning you all; this story is going to get *pretty angsty* here in a couple chapters. So it might seem all happy and 'fluffy' now...phew, oh boy. Just wait.
Also, huge thank you to sunflower2527 for your amazing reviews! You're amazing! I really appreciate you! And Jettsetter17; perfectly stated as always. Your reviews are extremely appreciated and welcome! Finally, thanks OOBER! I'm glad you love this story
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any of the characters within the franchise. I own the original characters of this story as well as the plot that are not directly tied to the movie.
Time to Neutron Bomb Explosion: 4 Months
Myra had certainly grown accustomed to and enjoyed her new lifestyle. While she had brief stints in past relationships where she lived and shared a space briefly, this was by far the longest she'd routinely had to share a bed and living space with someone over an extended period of time. She was almost embarrassed by the fact, particularly with the casualness and expert handling that Bane seemed to deal with the situation. However, there were simple things she observed during their domestic 'stint' that indicated this was also the first time he dabbled at a domestic co-inhabiting with a woman for as long as this.
Most of these had to do with bathroom habits.
The first thing she noticed, that was very obvious, was the fact he never put the toilet seat back down. She knew he spent the vast majority of his time with men; however, common sense would dictate (and past relationships) that you should always put the toilet seat down after you were done unless you wanted an earful from your woman. When Myra brought this up, Bane looked genuinely surprised, indignant almost, that 'he' was supposed to put the toilet seat down, and that it wasn't her job since she was the one that needed to use it in a different 'setting than what it was last positioned in'. She made sure he knew how very wrong he was about that.
After successfully weaning Bane into putting the toilet seat down, the next thing she noticed was very obvious instances of pee on the toilet seat. She hated that, particularly since it now appeared as if Bane was taking her word literally and never put the toilet seat up to do his business but instead kept it chronically 'down'. She wondered how he didn't even see the pee; or at the very least, take a piece of toilet paper and clean it up. Myra brought this up to. His response was:
"What's your fixation on the loo?" with a mixture of humor, tease, and condescension.
Myra told him the next time she found pee on the toilet seat, she was going to pee on his pillow. He didn't doubt her words, so he promised to be more careful in the future and resorted to lift the toilet seat up when he needed to followed by promptly putting it back down.
Other indicators would include Bane barging into the bathroom while she was using it, with the door very clearly closed, as if he weren't expecting anyone else in it. When this happened, it started as being both embarrassing and incredibly humiliating as she waved at him frantically to get out of the bathroom while she sat on 'the throne', or as Bane called it, 'the loo'. He would immediately turn on his heels, his eyes shooting to the ceiling to avoid seeing Myra sitting down doing her business, exiting the room quickly, looking almost as embarrassed as Myra felt.
However, this happened so frequently that their relationship had progressed to the point where Myra would simply look up with a bored expression when he entered the bathroom. Bane very clearly continued to ignore the closed door indicating there was an occupant and went about doing whatever it was he intended on doing in the bathroom. He also blatantly ignored her on the toilet, his level of embarrassment also completely evaporated as time went on and they saw glimpses of each other in some of their more vulnerable moments. She started to wonder why she even closed the bathroom door.
She eventually stopped closing the door.
One thing that wouldn't necessarily fall under 'bathroom habits', but more along the line of 'bio-fluid curiosity' was when Myra got her period and Bane's preoccupation with that event. Specifically, the prospect of having sex with her while she had her period as if it were a thing on an imaginary 'bucket list' of his that he hadn't ever had the chance or opportunity to do before with a woman simply because he hadn't lived with one or managed to engage in sex while they were menstruating since it was sometimes a taboo act to ask and perform. Myra found his fascination and desire disgusting.
She had been lucky enough in the previous months to have her period either during a stint in which Bane was away, or during a stretch in which they simply didn't engage in any sexual intercourse, so the notion of engaging in sex during her cycle was never discussed or broached. When it became obvious to Myra that Bane wanted nothing more than to 'try it out', Myra was mortified. She tended to have a heavy flow; there would be blood. Everywhere. She couldn't think of anything less appealing than engaging in sex and then turning to look at the after affects where she had been seated as well as remnants of the event on Bane's lower body, undoubtedly resembling a bloody massacre. Bane apparently didn't care about bloody massacres.
Bane, of course, was far less sensitized to blood than Myra was. He even eventually managed to coerce her into trying it with him, putting down a towel on the bed for her to sit on so she didn't get any blood on the bed.
"….did you have to pick a white towel?" Myra grumbled, as he was laying the towel down for her. Bane ignored her.
During the event, Myra could tell Bane was absolutely relishing in the feel of more than one type of organic fluid coating his cock. He did not seem to care in the least that one of those was her menstrual blood. Myra couldn't tell much difference from a sensation standpoint other than the slight feel of moisture or slickness between her legs. She didn't even feel the slow rise of her orgasm (probably because she was so distracted with the notion of 'blood' and 'mess on the bed') before she felt the jet-like propulsion of Bane's cum funneling inside of her, indicating to her that he couldn't contain himself (usually being the gentleman and waiting for her to come first); it must have just felt that good to him.
Myra stared up into his face wide-eyed as he rode out his orgasm, never usually being in a calm-enough mind set to actually focus and take in what he looked like when he came. Her eyes looked over his face, observing his eyes clenched closed, the tips of his surprisingly long and fair eyelashes coated with a dewy perspiration, his face turning red as he held his breath, beads of sweat coating his exposed cheeks and forehead with his head bobbing up and down with the movement of his body as he continued to drive into her. Myra suddenly felt heat gathering in the pit of her stomach as she watched him, and almost instantaneously, her body starting writhing as she very clearly came just as his was finishing and spending himself inside of her, shocking herself by the suddenness of her orgasm.
Bane continued to slowly and methodically bob and dip inside of her even after he came and it was obvious Myra had settled down after hers, his face looking like a child having an absolute blast on a playground, or more appropriately, a 'slip and slide'. She was patient while he continued to do this but pushed him off after he started to overstay his welcome, Myra feeling like there was no apparent end in sight to him stopping.
After they were done, and Myra lay on the bed for a few moments, she was reluctant to get up. She wanted Bane to leave so she could clean up the mess without him watching. He didn't allow her the chance, for as soon as he was up and off of her, he hauled her up too by the arm. Myra quickly turned to see the damage, horrified at what she saw. She quickly tried to roll the towel up and remove all blood-stained evidence that looked like a crime scene. Bane stopped her by grabbing her firmly by her up arms and bodily moving her to the side.
She started chewing on her nails ferociously as she watched Bane clean up the remnants of her mess on the bed, embarrassed. Bane seemed absolutely unphased, almost amused at how much anxiety a bit of blood on the towel seemed to stress her out given the fact that it wasn't even from a wound; it was from a natural biological cycle. He simply rolled up the towel, using it to clean the lower half of him off quickly with a few swipes. He then grabbed her by the arm to bring her closer so he could repeat the gesture on her lower half like he was cleaning a baby's bottom. He even forced her to spread her legs by grabbing hold of one of her thighs and yanked it off to the side so he could be thorough with his cleaning, and then sauntered to the bathroom nonchalantly.
Myra finally stopped chewing her nails when she realized that the world wasn't going to collapse under her feet at the prospect of her period blood being purposefully allowed to leak onto a towel.
During the day when Bane was away, Myra generally resorted to various activities to keep her entertained throughout the day. The first thing she usually did straight-away when waking up was that she generally sent Bane text messages. They were usually aspirational in nature; simple messages just to let him know she was thinking about him and that she hoped he was having a pleasant day. Bane never responded to these messages, however. Myra knew he read them though, because she could see the 'read' indicator under the messages that he had both seen and read them.
Sometimes they would simply be messages, like:
"You're doing great!" Read.
"I saw a picture of a grumpy looking hairless cat and thought of you" Read
"Hang in there! Pretty soon you will get to take your pants off" Read
"Thanks for putting leftovers in the fridge for me! I reheated it and it was delicious." Read
"As soon as I started thinking about you, I felt all warm and soft inside. It might have been the reheated food in my belly though." Read
"You're the most intelligent man I know. Keep being smart! I can't say 'human' of course, because you are in direct competition with me" Read
"Do you want to know how I know you're so smart? Because you chose me" Read
"I think you're pretty solid" Read
"You're my favorite person. Good job at being my favorite person! There's only one of you!" Read
"You look really great bald. I don't think I would look as great as you do if I were bald. What do you think?" Read
"Try not to be so hard on people today! There aren't many people who are as smart as you, so you can't blame them for not being able to keep up " Read
Other times, of course, the messages were requests from Myra directly to Bane since that was also her only line of communication with him during the day if he wasn't also in the master suite. She had no idea where he went or where to find him once he exited the door, so texting was necessary to get his attention. Some examples of those kinds of text messages would include the following:
"There's a spider in the bathroom. Can you please come up and kill it for me ASAP?" Read
"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. THE SPIDER. IT'S TRAPPING ME IN THE BATHROOM PLEASE SEND HELP" Read
"S.O.S. RED ALERT RED ALERT. KILLER SPIDER" Read
"I really appreciate you coming in and killing that spider. While I wish maybe you had come right away instead of forcing me to stay trapped in the bathroom for hours in complete terror, the fact that you came up and squashed it with your bare hand for me really means a lot to me. Thank you" Read
"I was just checking in to see how my big strong spider killer was doing. You're doing great! You're the best! " Read
"HE HAS FRIENDS" Read
"PLEASE. OH GOD PLEASE COME BACK THERE IS ANOTHER ONE. I'M GOING TO DIE" Read
"Thanks again for coming up and killing that other spider for me. While I didn't necessarily appreciate you picking it up with your hand and trying to show it to me to highlight there isn't anything to fear, and in that process, it jumping from your hand into my hair causing me to black out and faint for a few seconds, your response time was superb. A+++ on response time. D- on execution." Read
"I think we need to move. I think I saw another spider. It's too dangerous here. I can't live in these conditions." Read
"Thanks for sending that exterminator up. A heads up with have been nice; I nearly shit my pants when a guy with a large rocketeer-looking backpack waltzed in looking like he was going to spray me in the face and kill me. He didn't. But it was close. He told me the spider issue should be resolved. YAAAAAAY." Read
"You remind me of a really cute baby rhino. Can we get a baby rhino?" Read
"I can't get this jar open. Can you come up and open it for me, my big strong hunky man?" Read
Sometimes, Myra got out of hand. Bane was discussing strategies with Barsad when his phone started buzzing in rapid succession. He checked it to see if it was of importance, furrowing his brows in concentration as he read it, and read the first message from Myra:
"You are my sunshine," it simply said.
Bane was still holding it when the next message popped up on the screen.
"My only sunshine," it said.
"You make me happpppyyyyyyy," another one read, immediately being sent after the second one.
Bane pocketed his phone after realizing quickly that she intended on writing each song lyric into the phone. He gave Barsad a very irritated look, which Barsad had vaguely interpreted as Bane was receiving undesirable information regarding their objectives. Bane noticed the look of concern and simply waved a hand at him in dismissal, indicating the issue was of no importance. At all.
They continued going through their tactics and strategies as Bane's phone continued to buzz in his pocket distractingly throughout the ordeal.
When Bane was done with Barsad, he stormed up to the master suite. He found Myra sitting idly at a chair reading a book. She looked up when she saw him storm in, startled.
"Give me your phone," Bane ordered gruffly.
"What? Why?" Myra asked confused.
"I'm taking it away from you. You've lost your phone privileges," Bane said in a lecture-like tone.
Myra became distressed, grabbing the phone off of the table she was sitting at and clutching it to her chest possessively.
"Noo! Don't! Why?!" she whined.
"You're abusing it," Bane responded simply.
Myra's face immediately fell, having up to that point assumed that Bane had perhaps mildly enjoyed her small words of encouragement or text messages. In the very least found them amusing. He very clearly didn't. She clutched the phone further into her chest.
"I promise I'll stop. Don't take it!" Myra mumbled out, mildly distressed.
Bane stood there, analyzing her and the situation and realized she was being sincere. He figured that was good enough and simply nodded, turning around and exiting the room to return to his duties.
Several days after the incident, Bane felt himself checking his phone every day around the same time when Myra usually woke up and sent him messages as if still anticipating a message from her. He never got one of course, since he very firmly told her that he didn't like it and insinuated he didn't appreciate them. He felt himself feeling very differently now that the routine and content of those messages was suddenly removed. While he may have been annoyed that she found a way to text him during inopportune moments, he couldn't deny that he didn't appreciate someone thinking about him and offering him words of encouragement and thoughtfulness on a purely selfless basis. Particularly if those messages were a stark contrast to the hell he had to face daily when not interacting with Myra. He started hating himself for being instrumental in the removal of that extra pleasantry in his day, since his pleasantries were so rare and far between.
After roughly a week of this, Myra and Bane were at the kitchen table about to sit down and eat their food that Bane had prepared, Bane saw Myra's phone go off on the table. He couldn't help himself as his eyes roamed to the screen to see what the message read. It was simply the word "Thanks. You too". He looked to see who the recipient was; it was Barsad's number. He looked up at her quickly, questioningly. He saw Myra look to see what the content of the message was, a deep smile spreading across her face as she read it.
Myra looked up when she noticed Bane eyeing her, her smile immediately faltering. She returned his questioning glare, very obviously expecting some sort of explanation for the text message. She quickly finished chewing and swallowing her food, averting her eyes as redness creeped onto her cheeks.
"I told Barsad he's doing great, and that you are lucky to have him," Myra shrugged her shoulders, as if it were as simple as that.
Bane stared, his eyebrows slowly furrowing. It was obvious the feeling in Bane's chest was an inexplicable pang of jealousy at Barsad receiving sporadic encouraging messages from Myra, while he wasn't. It also appeared as if Barsad even went the extra mile and actually returned a simple reply to Myra; Bane never did that. He realized that every message he failed to return to Myra was a missed opportunity to make her feel appreciated and happy in return, as evident by the simple reply Barsad gave her and the content smile and softening of her eyes that it was able to induce. He suddenly felt a pang in his chest, almost an unease. Failure. Self-sabotage.
Bane twisted the fork in his hand, giving out a huff before looking down at his food which now appeared extremely unappetizing. Myra didn't appear to have the same problem, as she was already halfway through her meal.
After they had both finished and Myra was at the sink rinsing off and cleaning their plates while mindlessly humming "You are my sunshine", Bane slowly ambled up behind her. He looked uncomfortable, though Myra couldn't quite understand why. She gave him a look with a raised eyebrow.
"You…don't have to stop," Bane eased out, almost bashfully.
This confused Myra. She looked down at the dishes in her hand, and then back to him. Her eyebrows rose, clearly needing more of an explanation.
"What? Stop what?" she asked.
"Messaging me," Bane said almost shamefully.
Bane bodily shoved her to the side from the sink so he could take over and focus on cleaning the plates instead of having to look at her since she would eventually make the realization that he made a mistake in revoking that privilege in the first place. Bane rarely made mistakes and admitting them was a whole new beast.
Realization spread across her face before an intense smug look consumed her features. She stared at him with this expression for a good solid minute while he did the dishes, and then positioned herself behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, planting her cheek against his back.
"Okay. I won't," she mumbled into his back, her fingers scrunching against the material that covered his chest affectionately.
Bane wasn't sure whether he had made a mistake and unleashed a monster.
Bane was standing in the kitchen preparing a meal with Myra when he heard a knocking sound. At first, he couldn't quite place it, but then realized someone was knocking on the door to the entrance of their master suite. He looked around confused, then to Myra who looked up at him expectantly. He put down the knife that had been in his hand onto the table and rushed over to the door. He opened it to reveal Barsad. Barsad returned his gaze bored but expectantly. Bane's eyebrows lifted, genuinely confused for the presence of Barsad; their secret non-verbal communication very clearly failing him at this moment.
They stared at each other for several awkward moments before finally Myra rushed at them.
"Barsad! Thanks for coming!" Myra beamed. Bane's eyes darted to hers in confusion.
"I invited him over to eat with us! That's okay, right?" Myra asked as she slid past Bane and grabbed hold of Barsad's arm to haul him into the master suite. Bane glared at her. He did not like Myra making a domestic show of complacency to their situation and inviting someone else, even if it was Barsad, into their living space. Myra ignored his glare.
Barsad looked extremely uncomfortable as he was dragged in, looking to Bane for an indicator from him to just simply leave and forget about the invitation. Bane just sighed, stepping back and allowing Myra to follow through with whatever it was she had planned. Barsad stepped through the entrance tentatively, looking around, unsure where he should go.
"Over here; we're going to eat in the kitchen," Myra said, steering Barsad by the arm and leading him to the kitchen. Bane flanked them from behind, glowering.
Myra steered Barsad into an empty kitchen dining chair.
"We aren't quite done making the food, but it will be done shortly," Myra explained to him, turning to grab Bane by the arm and drag him back towards the food preparation area. As soon as the stood shoulder-to-shoulder, cleaning, cutting, and prepping the food, Bane turned towards her, scowling.
"I don't like you inviting people in here without my consent," he whispered to her, fuming.
Myra turned to him, aghast.
"What? Not even Barsad?" she whispered back.
"No," he replied grumpily, continuing with his task of meal preparation.
Myra glowered at him but then looked past Bane to Barsad. Barsad just sat there, staring at them and looking uncomfortable after witnessing a hushed verbal exchange between Bane and Myra that could only be about him. Myra smiled at him reassuringly, before turning her attention back to Bane, giving him a warning glare.
"Just be NICE for once!" she retorted in a whisper.
Bane's eye's grew large and angry as he glared at her.
'What do you think I've been doing, woman? Be mean? You haven't see me mean..." Bane fumed at her.
"Just shut up and keep cutting," Myra snapped back at him.
Bane glared at her, not replying except by chopping the vegetable he held in his hand against a cutting board a tad bit more aggressively than necessary, creating loud 'chop chop chop' sounds that permeated the kitchen, his stare like daggers.
Myra helped him prepare three plates of food, bringing one of the plates to Barsad and placing it in front of him. Bane brought the last two plates over to the table, placing one where Myra was going to sit and the spot where he intended to sit. Once Bane sat down, he went through the process of removing his mask so he could eat the meal. Barsad's eyes snapped up at the display.
Barsad then turned and watched as Myra sat down and scooted her chair up closer to the table. Her focus apparently was on her food with little to no regard to Bane removing his mask. Barsad realized Myra must have seen Bane remove it so frequently that she was desensitized to it and didn't even notice it; it was commonplace. This fact startled Barsad; he couldn't remember the last time he felt this level of shock.
Even Barsad rarely saw Bane without his mask. Bane chose to eat isolated, away from his men. Removing his mask put him in an extremely vulnerable state; all it would take was one of his men to become emboldened and decide they wanted to usurp him, and they could do so easily without Bane having any means to stop them since his lifeline was severed temporarily. The fact that he freely removed his mask in front of Myra on such a continuous basis indicated to Barsad that he had unwavering and absolute trust in her.
Barsad's eyes roamed to Myra, who was practically inhaling the food, unaware of the chain of thought Barsad was experiencing. Barsad lifted his fork and started tentatively eating his own food, trying to avoid lifting his eyes up to observe Bane without his mask.
During her downtime, Myra had taken up knitting. She wasn't very good at it and only learned as much as her grandmother had cared to teach her before she died, but she felt compelled both due to the winter freeze that finally consumed Gotham City as well as her desire to make Bane something. He was constantly showering her with gifts and services, and she had been unable to reciprocate in any way because she couldn't honestly think of anything he wanted that he didn't already have as well as something she could readily provide him. Whenever Bane entered the room while she was in the process of knitting, she would quickly hide her project so he wouldn't see it. He knew she was up to something but was polite enough to ignore it. After roughly a month of this routine, she was finally done with her project and was ready to show him.
As Bane entered their master suite, he ambled into the bedroom and saw Myra settled in a chair, leaning forward expectantly after she had heard his approaching footsteps. The look she gave Bane made him slow his pace down and pause. She was practically shaking with anticipation, excitement and happiness playing across her features upon seeing him. Bane was initially confused, startled almost; no one was ever that happy to see him. Myra of course on most occasions was happy to be around him; but this level of excitement and joy was new. In fact, he was generally confronted with individuals that loathed his presence, who would definitely prefer him not being near. Or if they were, in fact, happy to see him it was because they wanted something from him that he was able to provide due to his power and resources. Myra's expression did not indicate she wanted to use Bane for either his power or resources, and in fact had something for him clearly stuffed conspicuously behind her back.
His eyes immediately softened and even glazed at the spectacle, the feeling so foreign and yet so welcome that it made his breath catch. Myra didn't pick up on the subtleties of his emotional shift, and instead bound towards him energetically with two chunky knit crafted items in her hand. She stopped in front of him, reaching up and grabbing his head forcefully between her hands and shoved a large knitted hazel green object over his face. The color of the green matched the hazel color of his eyes. It was clearly an attempt on Myra's part at making some sort of knitted face warmer; it went over Bane's mask, instantly making it less threatening and more socially acceptable and maybe even slightly goofy looking. Once that was settled over his mask, she shoved a matching hazel green knitted cap firmly over his bald head to finish the matching pair. She took a step back to properly appraise her work.
"There….stunning! I made these for you! I picked the same color as your eyes. You're always keeping me warm, so I'd thought I'd return the favor!" Myra beamed with happiness that clearly radiated off of her.
Myra's knitting wasn't perfect; there were large chunky mistakes and gaping holes in some of the sections. The knitting chain was also irregular due to the varied tension of her yarn. Her eyes roamed over it, disregarding these blemishes and hoping he would too. She smiled up at him finally with a huge proud grin, but her smile faltered immediately when she saw his glazed eyes and non-responsiveness.
"I'm sorry…is it too ugly? Is it hurting you? You don't have to wear it if it's making you that uncomfortable…." Myra said sadly.
Bane just stared down at her for several moments before reaching both of his arms forward to wrap around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest in an affectionate embrace. Myra was confused but appreciated the warm hug, so she immediately wrapped her arms around his middle. Her eyes wandered around wide and confused for several more seconds, still not quite sure if he liked her attempts at making him some winter accessories.
"If you hate the color, I think I can make them in a different shade….?" Myra offered softly into his shoulder.
Bane's hold around her arms squeezed gently before he spoke.
"They're perfect. Thank you," Bane wheezed out with sincerity.
Myra's smile reclaimed her face, and she closed her eyes to bury it into his chest.
"I can make you a knitted jacket too maybe….?" Myra eased out after several more moments.
"Please don't," Bane wheezed out quickly, affectionately stroking the back of her head.
Myra's eyebrows furrowed in anger at his insinuation but allowed herself to be pacified by the gentle strokes of his hand behind her head that soothingly raked into her scalp. Bane began to sway his body with hers in a gesture meant to bask and nurture the feelings she inspired in him when he was around her or thinking of her.
Later on that evening, Bane had indicated interest in learning how to knit from Myra. Myra was absolutely ecstatic to show him, finding it incredibly amusing showing him how to knit considering his large meaty fingers and the intricacies of the craft. He was an extremely quick learner, however, and found the repetitive chaining motions to be soothing. Myra soon realized that he surpassed her in knitting competency after a few days of seeing the small projects he completed and showed her. Myra wanted to hate him for it but couldn't. She just figured she was 'that good' at teaching him.
When Bane went to stand watch over the reformed courthouse that was overseen by Dr. Crane, he would make sure to have a knitting needle and yarn with him to work on the project he started as he observed the justice being handed down by Dr. Crane which of course either resulted in death or exile. He found the added task of idly knitting while standing watch of these trials made them considerably more tolerable to observe.
Bane and Myra were making use of the indoor home theater system. Bane had reluctantly allowed Myra to choose the movie they would watch, and immediately began regretting it after she announced they would be watching "The Princess Bride". He practically groaned in annoyance when she announced the title.
"You clearly have never seen 'The Princess Bride,'" Myra balked at him, unamused by his reaction.
"Of course I haven't watched your 'Princess' movie," Bane retorted, annoyed.
Myra's eyes grew large, and somewhat enraged, but also showed excitement knowing he didn't know what the movie actually contained.
"This movie isn't just about "Princesses", good sir. It has pirates, and sword fighting, and TORTURE," she emphasized the word 'torture', knowing Bane would appreciate that word. Bane's annoyed expression did soften somewhat, and he even turned to her in vague interest. He gave out a grunt, settling in his seat.
After the movie started, Bane turned towards Myra after seeing her leaning forward in her seat, her eyes glazed over at the sequence involving Wesley and Buttercup, clearly emotionally affected by this scene and the music.
"Nothing gave Buttercup as much pleasure as ordering Wesley around," the narrator of the story said.
Bane grunted out a snort.
"…you two share common similarities," he snarked.
Myra's eyes transitioned from soft and emotional to heated anger as she turned at him, snapping.
"SHHHH. QUIET," she fumed, before turning back to watch the scene, her eyes transitioning back into dewy calm.
"Farmboy. Fill these with water," Buttercup asked Wesley in the movie.
'As you wish," Wesley responded.
The movie continued. "That day, she was amazed to discover that when he said 'As you wish', what he meant was 'I love you'" the narrator explained.
"And even more amazing was the day she realized she truly loved him back," the narration with the movie finished before transitioning into the two main characters kissing.
Bane snapped his head when he saw Myra let out a loud sigh through her mouth, her eyes glazed over as she watched the movie. He continued to stare at her before he turned his focus back onto the movie minutes later once her emotional reaction had ebbed.
That night well after the movie had ended and they had made their way back to their respective room and were asleep in bed, Myra began to fidget, indicating she needed something. Bane woke up, turned towards her and gave her his customary sweep of the forehead to check her temperature before asking her if she was all right. Myra lazily stared up at him, sleepy, groaning somewhat before opening her eyes to look at him before summarily closing them.
"Can you get me some water?" she asked tiredly.
Instead of immediately getting up and fetching her a glass of water, he continued to stare down at her. Myra's eyes shot open when she felt a hand cup her cheek. She looked up to see Bane staring right down at her.
"As you wish," he answered huskily before removing himself from the bed to get her a glass of water. To say that Myra looked absolutely shell shocked and dumbfounded would be an understatement.
When Bane returned with her water in his hand and leaned down to hand it to her, he was immediately assaulted by Myra who jumped up at him with a koala-like hug that caused the glass of water to fly out of his hand and spill all over the bed. He was then assaulted with a myriad of affectionate kisses and strokes from Myra until he became exhausted from standing and holding her, falling down into the bed where she continued her 'vicious' assault for several hours into the night.
The following day, it was back to business. Myra even resumed her duties as honorary 'inventory checker', though she was generally escorted by Bane during these instances. She met up with him after she woke up to go over the inventory sheet he had left for her at her bedside table. They rendezvoused in the first-floor lobby, where Bane then proceeded to take her to a more isolated part of the building so they could talk about the contents of the inventory sheet in relative privacy.
Myra was following Bane as he led her down a hallway, making comments to her while she held the clipboard in her arm with a pen in the other hand as she circled and checked the inventory sheet. Her attention was focused on the spreadsheet, but she looked up, startled, when she saw a blur. A man garbed in military clothing indicating he was one of Bane's men -or disguised as such- was holding a large metal object. When the man reeled his arm back to swing the metal object towards Myra and Bane, Bane instinctively put his hand out and pushed Myra out of the way. This caused Bane to receive a full blow to the face from the large heavy metal object.
The metal object had scraped across Bane's mask, causing an explosion of compressed air sputtering into the air. Bane immediately fell to his knees, his eyes watering at the sudden influx of pain and disorientation he must have felt. The man looked down at Bane, clenching the metal object in his hand, swinging it back to get ready to land another blow to Bane's head.
Myra felt her body reacting before her mind did; she dropped her clipboard and pen and launched herself at the man from behind, wrapping her arms around his neck in an attempt to incapacitate him and get him away from Bane. He dropped the metal object when he felt Myra attach herself to his back.
The size difference between her and the man was obvious; he reeled, reached back, and flung her bodily away from him with one swift motion. As Myra tumbled on the floor, she looked back and saw the man staring down at Bane as if deciding what he was going to do, now that the mighty had fallen. He turned towards the fallen metal weapon, bending down to pick it up again.
Without thinking, Myra stumbled back up and launched herself back in his direction. He reached out, anticipating the onslaught, and held her by her arms. Myra bent her head down and bit him strongly against the arm that held her, drawing blood. He growled and shouted, striking her hard against the face before drawing his leg back and kicking her away from him like a football.
Myra went flying back from the force of his kick into her chest, feeling the wind get knocked out of her. She lay on her back for only a brief second, reaching around with her hands on the floor in a move to leverage herself up. Her hand suddenly felt the physical shape of a pen that she had dropped moments earlier. YES.
She snatched it, pushed herself back up, and with renewed vigor, launched herself one last time at the man. He seemed to be expecting another feeble attempt from her and grabbed her easily by the throat just as she was on him. He began to squeeze.
Myra saw stars skipping across her vision as oxygen to her brain was immediately depleted. She choked out, struggling, almost forgetting what she had intended to do. She felt the tactile shape of the pen in her hand as it began slipping through her fingers as she felt her strength quickly dissipating. With the last bit of energy, she pushed herself just slightly more forward to him. As she did this, she brought her arm back and stabbed the pen right into the side of his neck.
He continued to hold her around the throat, though his other hand immediately jutted up to the object that was penetrating out the side of his neck. Before he could stop her, she pulled it out and stabbed him again at the front next to his Adam's apple. He let go of her, and Myra could hear guttural sounds that very clearly indicated she had punctured his windpipe; he was slowly drowning in his own blood.
She backed away from him quickly as he started swinging and grasping at her with his arms in a disoriented fashion. He fell down after making several steps in her direction. He began choking, sputtering, but then suddenly stopped as his body stilled.
Myra quickly rushed to Bane, who was also on the ground and was feebly touching his mask with his fingertips, dazed and looking unwell. She knelt down next to him and hoisted his head up into her kneeling lap, trying to force his attention to her.
"What do I do? Tell me what to do…" she whispered out, trying to calm him down by stroking the side of her palm against his face, hoping he couldn't see or detect the sheer panic and frustration she was feeling.
Bane didn't respond, but his fingertips continued to move and grip at the small canisters that lined his mask. Myra's eyes turned to focus on his hands, seeing his feeble attempts at reconnecting the cannisters into the valve array lines. Myra moved her fingers and fumbled briefly before reconnecting one, two, and then a third canister that got dislodged from the assault. She had considerable difficulty with the last one because the thread lines appeared to have been bent from the force of the metal object shearing across it from the blow.
Myra watched as the strained and rapid breathing of Bane slowly eased into steady calmer breaths as the effects of the medicine slowly got reintegrated into his system. He closed his eyes to clear the moisture, and then slowly opened his eyes with renewed focus. He finally moved his eyes to focus on hers. Myra had maintained her focus on him expectantly. He reached up a hand and touched the side of her cheek delicately, grazing his thumb over her eye almost as if in an attempt to wipe away the worry that he must have seen staring down at him. Myra brought a hand up and covered his hand with hers, leaning into the weight of his hand as she continued to stare down at him, flexing her body further over him protectively as his head remained nestled in her lap. She used her other hand to lightly massage his upper torso as if making attempts to guide him into a slower and more relaxed breathing pattern.
After lying on his back with his head comfortably nestled in Myra's lap for several minutes, Bane eventually dislodged his hand from Myra's cheek and eased himself forward and off of the ground, lifting himself up into a standing position. His eyes immediately turned and fixated to look at the man with a pen sticking out of his neck. He turned to look at Myra, very clearly impressed, extremely thankful, with a hint of shock.
Myra looked away awkwardly, shyly, her eyes averting away.
"You told me….to stab at the neck…." Myra mumbled almost shamefully, embarrassed.
Bane was confused for a moment, searching her face, before realization spread across his features. The defense lessons. One of the first things that Bane had instilled into Myra, one of the very first things that he had verbally instructed her, was to stab an assailant with any sharp object that she had at her disposal and if at all possible to go for the neck.
Seeing that Myra's attention was very clearly on the ground as she processed the events, Bane moved towards the dead body and knelt down and immediately began rummaging in his pockets. He found a mobile phone and stood up as he searched the contents of the device. Bane apparently found a number on the phone he felt was worth dialing, because Myra looked up and saw Bane press a button on the phone and brought it to his ear, awaiting someone on the other end to pick up. He only had to wait for two rings before someone answered on the other end.
"Did you do it? Did you get him? … Officer Jones? Are you there? Should we come extract you?" someone on the other end said in a rush.
Bane ended the phone conversation with a push of the button. He pocketed the device with the clear intent of using it to help 'smoke out the vermin' at a later time. His eyes turned to Myra, who he knew was going to have questions about the interaction.
"The Gotham P.D. at their finest," was his simple reply as he stared down at the dead body.
Bane walked towards Myra, confusion still written on her face, and knelt down, taking her face into his hands and analyzing it. Her hair looked like a mad scientist's; disheveled, scraggly, a rat's nest. His eyes fixated on the large bruise blossoming on her cheek from the blow she received from the man. Bane's thumb traced it delicately before he focused on her eyes.
"Did he hurt you elsewhere?" he asked with concern.
Myra searched his eyes, still wanting more of an explanation about the man she just killed. Did I just help…kill another police officer? I'm going to hell.
"He kicked me pretty hard…I'm going to have a huge footprint bruise on my chest and I'll probably be sore for a while…he also was unsuccessful at choking me…." Myra said, bringing a hand up to graze over the sensitive spot where she got kicked as well as rubbing at her neck. She also looked down and fixated at all of the blood splatter and smears coating her arms and hands from her attack.
Bane furrowed his brows, the expelled breaths from his mask being blown directly into Myra's forehead. He eventually helped her up into a standing position. She brought a hand to her back and groaned from her body being tossed and kicked around like a soccer ball.
Before Myra could react, Bane turned towards her and encapsulated her body into a firm hug, bringing a hand up to the back of her head to ease her head fully under his chin so that she could fit perfectly into his body and fill all available negative space. Myra reacted by bringing her hands up in front of her to curl against his chest, letting out a contented sigh. And then in a total shift, she started bawling.
Bane clearly had the foresight to know that Myra was on the verge of breaking down despite her not giving off any visible physical indicators, now that the danger was over and she had a chance to process her actions and the events that transpired; her body very clearly went into 'defense mode', forcing her to be strong until it sensed she could breath and relax. The magnitude of what she did, and what she was about to lose finally caught up to her like a slap in the face.
Bane held her, letting her expel her emotions against his chest until she finally settled and stirred. He brought his hands up to hold her by the shoulders, leaning back to analyze her face.
"I believe you deserve a day off for good behavior," Bane joked at her, stroking the wet strands of hair that had plastered themselves against the side of her cheek. "Let's go back upstairs, shall we?"
Myra simply nodded, rubbing her runny nose with her hand before turning back towards the exit. When she started walking, it was obvious she had taken quite the physical toll; she walked like she was tip-toing on eggshells. Bane observed her for several moments, upset with himself for not being of clear mind to witness the altercation, but also upset that things could have spiraled even more out of control with both of them dead simply because of his handicap. He bent down and picked her up after it was obvious it was uncomfortable for her to walk. She didn't protest.
As soon as they made it to the lobby level, curious eyes turned towards them at the spectacle of Bane carrying Myra in his arms. Myra turned her head inward to focus on his chest, her cheeks flaming at the unwanted attention. Bane, of course, could care less. He marched past the sea of people before making it to the elevators, directing her toe to push the 'up' button, causing her to smile at his hands-free approach.
Once upstairs and safely back into the master suite, Bane settled her in a sitting position on the bed.
"Wait here, please," he requested, before stalking to the bathroom.
Myra heard the large luxury bath being run with water. She waited several moments more before Bane emerged, grabbing her by the hand and directing her to the bathroom. Bane helped her remove her blood-stained clothing along with the rest before holding her hand for support as he guided her to step into the bathtub, which she complied.
She settled into the comfortably hot water, turning her head to the side to observe Bane, who went and fetched some soap and cleaning items to help her scrub any remnants of blood off of her. He fills a large cup with water, positioning it over her head.
"Lean back," Bane says, holding the cup.
"I can do it…" Myra mumbles, reaching up to grab the cup from his hand.
Bane swats her hand away.
"Lean back," he repeated firmly. An order.
Myra gives out a loud annoyed sigh, tilting her head fully so he can pour the water into her hair. During this process, her neck became fully exposed to him. Bane's eyes dart to the fingered bruising that started to show around her neck, concerned and amazed that she was able to complete her task with the pen in the man's neck considering the severity of the bruising; Bane figured if the man had held onto her for just a second or even a half second longer, she would have passed out. He continued to eye them as he began pouring water onto Myra's hair.
After pouring water into her hair, he uses his fingers to drip water down her back while Myra began to idly scrub the blood from her forearms. Her expression wasn't one of disgust or regret; on the contrary. Her lids half covered her eyes as she had a calmed, almost content and relaxed expression on her face as she removed the remnants of blood from her arms. Bane could almost even detect a soft hum coming through her lips. Her reaction to the events that just unfolded were a stark contrast to a vaguely similar series of events that had happened months prior involving the death of other Gotham police officers. Bane wasn't sure if he should be concerned or proud of her evolved mental state and handling of traumatic situations.
Myra, of course, didn't want to kill anyone. However, she found herself thankful and relieved at how things ended. She felt like she was washing away her anxiety and regret into the water with every scrub to her arm that was still slightly coated with blood.
Bane used his hands to massage her scalp, running his fingers through her wet hair and around her face to gently rub her skin. Myra wasn't sure, however, if he was intentionally being clumsy on a few instances as several of his fingers very clearly sheared across her face and threatened to plunge up her nose. She would open her eyes, startled, and then close them after he resumed the more calming strokes. She gave him the benefit of the doubt since he very clearly couldn't see her face since she was facing forward away from him. When he did it again, though, she was convinced he was doing it to tease her and get a rise out of her.
After several moments of watching Myra idly humming and scrubbing her body, Bane stood up. Myra turned to look at him when she noticed he was removing his clothing. She gawked at him when she then realized his intention was to fit into the bathtub with her.
"Noo…you're too big. You're not going to fit," Myra complained, eyeing him again, and then at the available space in the bathtub.
Bane was already stepping into the bathtub, coaxing her to move forward so could settle behind her.
"You never voiced a complaint about that attribute before," he teased.
Myra's expression changed into annoyance when she realized he was making a penis-size joke. She glared at him as he shoved her forward. She was right, of course; he was a tad bit too large for the bathtub. He compromised by draping one of his legs over the edge of the tub, which allowed him to pull Myra back up against his chest. Myra complied, leaning the back of her head against his chest as she felt him take hold of her arms and aid her in the cleansing and scrubbing process of blood.
Myra's eyelids fell over her eyes contentedly from the combination of driblets of water as well as the strokes that Bane was giving her skin while he cleansed her body. She brought her foot up against his, curling her toes over his. She grinned deeply when he responded several moments later by reciprocating the gesture with his own toes.
Myra figured she must have been properly cleaned when she felt Bane push her forward from his chest, get up and out of the tub, and reach in and assist her with getting up as well. He wrapped her up like a burrito in a towel, ignoring his own wetness, as he picked her up and walked her back to the bedroom. As he made his way, he kept his gaze down and focused on hers. Myra's face turned red at the unwavering attention he seemed to have on her. He eased her down onto the bed comfortably, wiping his hand over her forehead.
"I'll be right back. Stay here, please," he said simply.
Myra nodded, knowing he undoubtedly had to attend to the dead body as well as the possibility of other infiltrators in his presence. Myra watched as Bane put on his clothes and exited.
Bane came back hours later after attending to the business of the dead body and infiltration. He also slid a shoe-size box under his bed, which Myra vaguely captured out of the corner of her eye. She was too tired and exhausted to ask him what it was. She instead stayed wrapped in blankets as she watched him go to the bathroom to prepare for bed.
When she woke up the following morning, she saw that Bane was also still in bed with his body half wrapped over and around hers. She smiled; very rarely was blessed with waking up in such a position with Bane still in bed. He was such an early riser with things to do, that he was long gone before she even started waking up. When he felt Myra stirring, he opened his eyes and squeezed his arms around her to bring her in closer, letting out a tired sigh, before releasing her. He then rolled himself back away from her and brought his arm down to his side of the bed to reach under the bed and retrieve something.
Myra watched with curiosity as he swung a beautifully wrapped package up and around to settle in her lap.
"What? A present? For me?" Myra asked with surprise. She never got presents like this from him, wrapped.
Bane simply nodded, reclining back into bed to watch her open it.
Myra tore into the shoe-box size gift in excitement. When she fully opened it and peeled the last piece of wrapping paper away, her face fell in disappointment.
It was a giant box of pens.
Myra stared down at, letting out a sigh.
And then she started laughing, covering her face with her hand at the ridiculousness of it.
Bane simply stared at her, lying on his side and enjoying the spectacle with an indicator of a grin on his face.
Myra put the box down on her nightstand after letting herself laugh for a solid minute, turning towards him as if exasperated and put-out.
"What the heck am I going to do with a box of pens? You couldn't think of anything better for saving your life?" she asked.
"No," Bane simply said.
Myra let out a seemingly irritated sigh before launching herself into him and curling up against his chest. She buried her face into his chest, letting her disheveled unevenly dried hair cover her like a canopy and she adjusted herself into a comfortable lounging and napping position. She had half-anticipated Bane to get up after seeing her open her gift. With that task complete, he simply stayed next to her as she went back to sleep in a light nap. He kept his body over and around her until she finally decided to get out of bed, which wasn't until hours later and nearing noon. She couldn't recall a time ever when he had stayed in bed with her for so long. She enjoyed it beyond words.
The several hours later when Myra woke up again she tilted her head back, rousing herself from sleep and saw Bane was still next to her, his eyes opened and looked down at her with half-lidded eyes. She smiled, curling her hand against his waist affectionately as she eyed him.
"What…. Still in bed? You're getting so lazy…. here I am doing all the work, protecting you – with flimsy, embarrassing tools not to mention... Pretty soon I'll wonder why I even keep you around…" she crooned at him, wondering how she was even successful at making the act of killing someone into something she was proud of. She was surprised at the ease in which she delivered it; clearly, she was past her unease about the event.
Bane brought a hand up and stroked the side of her face as he continued to stare down at her, unaffected by her insinuations and jest.
"Oh, I'm quite sure you'll find reasons to keep me around," Bane purred through his mask.
Myra's smile deepened at the suggestiveness of his statement, loving his playful attitude when he let it show. She leaned and arched herself into his body, squeezing the flesh at his waist with her hand before grabbing the elastic band of his briefs and pulling it back and letting it go to audibly snap against his skin.
"Oh? Like what?" she asked teasingly, searching his face.
Bane blinked his eyes in a very slow, relaxed, and thoughtful manner at her as his hand began raking through the hair behind her ear.
"I get the inclination that you're rather be shown than told…." Bane huffed out softly, his eyes flickering to her lips just briefly before returning his gaze back up to her eyes.
Myra moved her hand up to rest on his cheek, mirroring the strokes and touches he was giving her that felt so good.
"Yes, but….don't you have somewhere to be? You're always so busy this time of day…." Myra murmured, longing for him to stay but also understood his time commitments.
"That can wait" Bane breathed out simply, as he eased himself closer to her.
The following day, Bane alerted Talia to the infiltration of the Gotham P.D. over the phone.
"What happened?" Talia says over the phone, clearly concerned. Her plan was so close to coming to fruition; any chink in the chain now could still result in a domino effect of failure. Bane was necessary.
"Myra and I were attacked by an undercover police officer," Bane said simply.
Talia's eyes slowly narrowed, her look turning smug. Bane, of course, couldn't see her face but he could hint at her smugness based on the delivery of the next words out of her mouth.
"Was she….killed?" Talia inquired. It was very obvious what kind of answer Talia was hoping Bane would give her.
"No," Bane said simply.
Talia's face fell in disappointment.
"How fortunate," Talia breathed, though based on the manner of her tone she thought quite the opposite.
Talia, of course, also couldn't see Bane's fist that was shaking as he held himself back from punching a hole through the wall.
Author: What other kind of text messages do you think Myra sends Bane throughout the day? I'd love to hear your ideas! Also, don't forget to review