An Introduction to: The Servant's Heart
Thank you with all of my heart to Archive of Our Own reader 'jwct123,' for reaching out and asking for this one shot.
Here in 'A Servant's Heart,' you'll find a glimpse into what happened after Joe Chill was killed in the courtroom and Bruce admitted to Rachel how he had intended to end Chill first.
Rachel is angry at Bruce as she brings her vehicle to a stop at a literal and metaphorical stop sign.
A Servant's Heart
Rachel's hand still stung from slapping Bruce's perfectly sculpted face; her palm burned from where she'd made contact with his exfoliated cheek.
She dropped her stinging hand to tap idly on the stick shift as she slowed for a dented stop sign, fury filled every part of her.
Rachel began to turn the wheel to the right, abruptly tightening her hand on the stick shift, before a strange sound spilled from between her lips and she yanked the steering wheel to the left.
A right turn would've taken her back to her office.
The sudden left turn would take her to Wayne Manor.
Rachel engaged the emergency brake of the nondescript sedan, blowing out a deep breath as she cut the engine and stared through the windshield at the sprawling estate.
The stone walls of the manor were indelibly different after her mother had stopped working there, whisking Rachel away from the large home that housed a lonely child shrouded in darkness.
Rachel smoothed her skirt down her thighs as she practically marched to the door, the gravel crunching under her red pointed-toe high heels, the leather held a sheen that made them appear dripping wet.
The brisk weather made her gloveless hands colder; she'd dropped a grey cashmere-lined glove somewhere at the courthouse, an ache reverberated through her knuckles as she loudly knocked on the front door of the lavish estate.
A frown pulled her eyebrows together as she continued knocking and waiting, her hands growing colder as her anger continued to grow.
She shook the doorknob with frustration, she gave a small sound of surprise when the brushed silver knob easily turned in her cold hand.
Rachel allowed herself to cross the sturdy threshold, a chilly vampire, uninvited.
"Bruce?" she called out, taking a few steps into the spacious foyer, "Alfred?" she added, straining her ears, hearing nothing.
She caught her reflection in a deeply polished mirror, pausing to paw in her purse for a light, clear gloss to smear on her full lips before she ran her fingers through her hair, casually leaving her hair tousled, some disheveled body.
Rachel walked through the familiar halls and rooms, smiling at the portrait of the Wayne family above the fireplace that dominated one of the sitting rooms.
She flinched when a light thud rang from somewhere in the estate, the muffled thump began to repeat itself in a somewhat staccato fashion.
The sound grew in volume as Rachel searched out the source with tentative footfalls, her heels clicking the ground as she approached the rear kitchen where her mom used to spend a great deal of her time while being employed at the Wayne Manor.
An aroma of warm spices rushed to greet Rachel's nose as she reached out a hand and gave the swinging double doors a hesitant push.
Her lips pulled into a wide smile as her eyes found Alfred at the vast island, multiple shallow dishes and bountiful produce cluttering the marble surface.
Alfred didn't notice Rachel for a few moments as he used a wooden mallet to pound the veal steaks thin.
"Miss Dawes?" he said with surprise when he looked up and saw her framed in the partially open doors, "how lovely to see you," he added as he wiped off his hands on an eggshell white utility towel, walking around the island to greet her.
"Alfred," Rachel murmured as she met his outstretched hand, returning his gentle, warm squeeze.
"Miss Dawes," Alfred added as he assisted Rachel slip off her ankle length trench. "It's a nice coat," he said as he settled it on an elegant, carved wooden coat rack.
"How are you Alfred?" Rachel asked after he gestured to a tall barstool for her to sit as he added crystalline chunks of salt and roughly ground black pepper to a shallow dish filled with breadcrumbs.
"I must confess, you've caught me Miss Dawes," continuing at Rachel's perplexed expression. "Master Wayne is out for the day, and I might've shirked my other duties to cook and have some of this," he added in a conspiratorial whisper as he plucked a bottle of Fernet-Branca from a low shelf.
Rachel couldn't help but grin at the bottle of Croatian barrel-aged liquor.
"I won't tell Bruce," Rachel whispered back as Alfred poured two glasses of the liquor that at one point was considered by some to be a glorified mouthwash, gave you clean teeth along with a boozy smile.
Afred chuckled when Rachel wrinkled her nose at the potent medicinal odor after taking a tentative sniff.
"A moment Miss Dawes, I shall prepare you something better," Alfred said as he quickly plucked the glass back from her small hand.
Rachel watched as Alfred looked through a collection of bottles, pouring some Chartreuse liquor that was brought to the world by Carthusian monks into a glass, followed by lime juice and a clear simple syrup.
Rachel watched with fasciation as Alfred zested a black lime over the cocktail before passing it back to her, "try it in a Chef's Kiss Miss Dawes," he whispered.
She took a small sip, the earthiness meeting her, cut by the brightness of the citrus, the medicinal taste mellowed out, leaving a warmth in its wake that spread through her chest.
Rachel dropped her eyes to the top of her drink as Alfred returned his attention to cracking a few eggs in another glass dish, the yolks a deep orange, bleeding their carroty-colored viscosity as Alfred used a fork to whisk them together along with a handful of spices.
Rachel sipped the cocktail as she watched Alfred's hands move from dredging the flattened pork before adding it to a hot pan, olive oil glossy on the surface, sizzling under the breaded meat.
After he adjusted the flame under the pan, he moved his attention to a bowl of plump cherry tomatoes, cutting into their taut skin, seeds bleeding from the slices of his knife.
He created leafy ribbons from basil leaves, folding them in a glass bowl with parsley, oil and a liberal toss of sea salt and black pepper.
Rachel finished her drink, setting down the empty glass as Alfred loaded the fragrant mix onto a triangle of toasted bread, passing it across the island to her before he plucked her empty glass away, watching her face, eager for her reaction to the unctuous flavors to coat her tongue and lips.
Rachel bit into the toast point, a piece of tomato tumbled to the marble top of the island as she chewed, briefly giving an appreciative sound until she took a second, bigger bite.
A translucent chunk of sea salt clung to her full, lower lip.
Alfred never took his eyes off her face as he cut the heat under the frying pan, setting her empty glass down and circling the island, coming to a pause closer to her.
Rachel held still, watching, as if in slow-motion, Alfred reached out a hand and brushed away the fleck of salt from her lip, stuck to her flesh with a bit of oil.
She blinked slowly as Alfred's thumb lingered ever so briefly before he brought his oil slicked thumb to his mouth, licking away the bit of salt that had just been clinging to her lip.
"Miss Dawes," Alfred murmured after he licked the pad of his thumb, waiting for her to move, speak or breathe.
The corner of his lips lifted the smallest amount when a becoming touch of pink colored her cheeks, her lips parted as her eyes darkened, a warmth spreading out from her center.
Alfred took a step closer, letting his eyes move from Rachel's wet, parted lips to the front of her throat as he reached for the bottle of Fernet-Branca.
He took a few deep swallows of the herbaceous liquor, his heart speeding up as Rachel uncrossed her legs, her knees still pressed together, letting nothing show, her respiratory rate was in diametric opposition to his, only small rise and falls of her chest from shallow breaths.
Alfred's exhale was touched with the medicinal aroma of the twenty-seven herbs, roots and spices that made up Fernet-Branca as he chastely pressed his lips to hers, his whole body unfurling inside when Rachel carefully leaned forward, returning his kiss.
Alfred caught up Rachel's slim wrists in his large hands when she reached out for him, he moved her hands to rest at her sides, "sit back Miss Dawes," he growled as he carefully opened each button of her blouse, taking exquisite time to slip each polished button free, slowly pushing apart her blouse, her breasts strained against their dark green bra, her chest rising and falling as his fingertips brushed the front of the satin bra cups.
"Alfred," she murmured as he patiently shifted her blouse free from her upper body until she remained in the deep green bra, charcoal grey skirt and heels.
"Alfred," Rachel stammered as he gently squeezed her nipples through the smooth fabric, feeling the delicate flesh harden behind the luxurious satin, making Rachel arch her back, seeking his further touch as he gently shifted each bra cup lower until the top of her creamy breasts and dark pink nipples were exposed to his eyes, hardening further from the sudden exposure to the air.
Rachel gasped as Alfred dropped his lips to her right nipple, catching the dark pink flesh gently between his teeth, tugging until she gave a loud moan as he simultaneously smoothed his hands down her sides.
Rachel held her breath, biting her fleshy bottom lip as Alfred trailed his fingers up the outside of her thighs, pushing her skirt up her lithe flesh, the fabric bunching around her hips.
Rachel felt herself shudder as Alfred slid his hands to the top of her trembling thighs, pushing them far apart, dancing his fingers closer to her panty-hidden intimate center, his fingers became like the thick, warm snake around the caduceus as he settled his large hands on the warm, taut, bare flesh of her inner thighs.
Alfred fell silent, his heart began to beat as slow as a diving blue whale, just three beats a minute as he stared down at the thin silken fabric just covering her femininity.
Alfred never took his eyes off Rachel's panty-covered center as he reached past her for the closest bottle he could get his shaking hand on without having to take his eyes off her barely hidden intimacy.
He looked up as he unscrewed the cap on the bottle of aged Chartreuse.
Alfred locked eyes with Rachel as he let a few drops of the bright green liquor splash onto the bare skin of her inner thighs, the bare expanse of her flat belly and breasts as he tugged her bra free, letting the silken lingerie soundlessly hit the floor.
Rachel felt a rush of wetness to her pussy as a drop of the bright green liquor splashed to the scant fabric barely covering her.
Alfred slowly dragged his eyes down the front of her close to naked body, smiling hotly, his eyes bleeding black with lust as Rachel shuddered when he traced a thick finger on each of her inner thighs, tracing the bluish blush of the femoral artery as he drew closer to her panty-covered center.
Rachel shivered as he traced his fingers in slow circles over the thin fabric that covered her intimate center, increasing the pressure of his touch, urging wetness to flood her pussy.
Behind his zippered slack's closure, Alfred's length began to harden, grow thicker and heavier as his finger's touch on her pussy, coaxed the fabric over her nakedness to become close to sheer from the sopping wetness.
Alfred murmured low, incoherent words as he hooked a finger in the side seam of her panties, tugging the fabric to the side, humming appreciatively as he exposed her smooth-shaven pussy, the silken wet folds hiding her tight center.
His cock thrummed with anticipation as he plunged his thick middle finger completely into her wetness, feeling her intimacy quivering around his fat digit as he slid it in and out of her, varying his rhythm, surprising her with the exquisite speed he employed as he fucked her wet cunt until she struggled to catch her breath.
Rachel felt a quivering in every part of her body, especially concentrated between her thighs as Alfred abruptly removed his finger from her soaking wet center.
He chuckled at her disappointed groan, licking his lips before he forced a gasp from between her lips as he suddenly lifted her from the stool, setting her on the marble island.
Rachel moaned into Alfred's mouth as their lips met, his tongue fucked her mouth, intertwining with hers as he ripped away the remnants of her panties, breaking the kiss so he could lean back and see every part of her intimacy, feeling his cock practically leap through the closed zipper at the sight of her dark pink folds surrounding her tight, wet opening.
Rachel didn't feel Alfred trace the infinity shape on the soft pad of fat above her bare pussy before he fumbled his cock free, gripping his hard length before slowly moving the sensitive head of his cock through her shell-pink folds, sliding the smooth tip of his rigidity through her wetness.
His shaft grew slick as he moved impossibly close, no space remained between them as Alfred and Rachel's lips found each other, gasping and groaning from the wildfire under burning within them.
Rachel slid a hand between them, gripping Alfred's thick length, drawing the electrically sensitive tip in irregular circles around her swelling clit, stealing his breath as she dragged the rounded head of his length lower.
Rachel leaned back on the counter, unable to think of her bare ass and private wetness on the island her mother so diligently cleaned.
The familial thought was a wave upon the sand before she let her thighs fall further open, thrusting her hips forward so the smooth tip of Alfred's cock just barely bobbed in and out of her tight opening, her body tingling and aching for more.
Alfred wanted the anticipation to build, the need, he growled as he brushed Rachel's hands away, quickly placing a large hand on her belly and urging her to lay flat on the counter, letting it be goddamned if oil spilled and coated her luxurious fall of hair.
Rachel didn't have time to form words before Alfred's tongue was licking a wet path towards her center, his exhale hot on her skin as he hovered over her nudity, flicking his tongue against her clit until she gasped with each touch.
Alfred moved his tongue in merciless circles around her throbbing clit, the pulsing sensation so strong she felt like she might implode before he shifted his attention, at once sliding his tongue into her tight opening, tasting her, feeling the wet folds pressing against his lips as he sought to fill her deeper.
He teased her clit until the brink of falling into an orgasmic abyss before shifting upright, losing himself in the ocean of her deep brown eyes as he completely buried his thick length into her sopping wet cunt in a single plunge, trailing his eyes down the front of her body, letting his gaze linger on her heaving breasts moving up and down with the rhythm of his deep thrusting.
Rachel looked down the front of her body and watched along with Alfred as he was nearly hypnotized by watching his rigid length sink into her, gasping in time as the head of his cock stimulated the spongy cluster of nerves deep inside her, making her intimacy clench and squeeze his plunging shaft as he drove them both closer to release.
Alfred dropped his weight, leaning down to capture Rachel's mouth under his, his tongue mimicking his cock as he fucked her lips, the only sounds were incoherent groans and murmurs as he kept his pace steady until he felt her orgasm start slow, her intimate walls gripped his cock harder, pulsing, seeming to milk him as she came in steady waves, tightening her thighs around his waist as he drilled her without abandon after she'd climaxed, eager for his own sweet release of spilling himself deep inside her.
He felt his balls tighten and pull up closer to his body as he scrabbled his hand to her hips, squeezing until he could lift her hips to meet the last few thrusts of his cock, the angle making their bodies touch as Alfred buried himself completely after one last plunge, his cock spasming, stickily spilling inside her center.
Hours later, the billionaire Bruce Wayne returned.
As he'd been making his way back to the lonely estate, Rachel had taken a long bath while Alfred laundered her clothes.
Bruce found them dining in the kitchen, casually leaning against the marble island.
He noticed nothing amiss as he greeted Rachel and Alfred, reaching out and plucking a bruschetta loaded toast point.
"No one is better in the kitchen than you Alfred," Bruce remarked after taking a big bite, a chunk of salt remained perched on his upper lip.
"Master Wayne," Alfred whispered, gesturing discreetly to where the billionaire's face held a mar before locking eyes with Rachel.
Rachel felt a warm blush threaten to bloom, hurriedly looking down and wiping at a nonexistent smudge on her own lips to hide her pleased smile.