akuiku

Too Much Information

Tue, 17 Jun 2008 08:06:44 GMT

Title: Too Much Information
Author: Akuiku
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake , Barbara Gordon (implied)
Prompt: Questioning T12;P13
Word Count: 352
Summery: Sometimes Tim just asked too many questions.
Disclaimer: I don't own Batman or its characters.

Sometimes Tim felt like the odd man out, like there was something going on that he didn’t know about. Chances where, there usually was something going on that he didn’t know about. In comparison to Dick he was young and inexperienced, and that often led to Bruce and Barbara keeping him in the dark. He understood this, and as much as it pained him to say it, he had come to except it. Yet it would be a lie to say that it didn’t hurt...

Tim had been relieved when he herd the sound of Batman landing beside him on the roof of Wayne Enterprises. Their patrol was supposed to have started two hours earlier, and Tim had begun to worry about his absent partner. He hadn’t expected an answer when he’d asked Bruce where he had been, and he didn’t receive one. Instead he spent the next four hours prowling darkened rooftops, fighting petty criminals, and dodging bullets.

He was exhausted by the time they’d arrived back at the cave, walking off to the showers in a zombie-like state. He’d been ready to call it a night when he’d noticed something peculiar. Bruce had emerged from his shower shirtless, something in itself which wasn’t too out of the ordinary. The strange scratches which covered his back however, where.

“What happened to your back?” Tim asked slightly confused, he’d thought they’d both arrived home tonight unharmed.

“Nothing” Bruce answered darkly.

Tim frowned coming to stand behind him. “Yeah like I believe that, your covered in scratches”

Bruce froze, a hand coming up to cover his eyes. “Tim, just go to bed” He said with a sigh, mortified at the thought of having to explain just where those scratches came from.

Tim ignored him, squinting in the dimly lit cave at the markings. “Hey wait these are ....”Tim went pale, jumping back slightly at the realization of what those “strange markings” really were.

They were nail marks - which meant ...

“Sorry” He mumbled cheeks burning in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to .... I was just worried that ...”

“It’s ok Tim, just go get some sleep”

Surprise Nana Visit!

Wed, 11 Jun 2008 21:24:49 GMT

Well I'm one step closer to getting all my work up on this page ... unfortunately I have to stop for the time being because I'm getting a visit from my Nana ... mom's doing laundry, I can't walk and so there's no escaping it really! On the bright side last night inspiration struck and I'm halfway through a new fic for the DCFFA Summer Challenge! I'll post more tonight when I can ... wish me luck with Nana ( she's a little crazy) - akuiku

Hope

Wed, 11 Jun 2008 21:19:06 GMT

Title: Hope
Author: Akuiku
Claim: Bruce/Barbara
Characters: Bruce Wayne, Barbara Gordon
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1054
Prompt: T12; P58: Atonement
Summary: Hope was hard to find in Gotham . . .
Disclaimer: DC owns them.
Author's Notes/Warnings: Kind of short ...not really a pairing, just a reasoning behind some of the characters actions.

Hope was hard to find in Gotham . . . a weak glimmer in a sea of darkness.

The city itself seemed to strip you of your hope, victimize you, condemn you to a bleak and miserable existence. For the few who tried to fight back Gotham showed no mercy, their plight was a never-ending one which weighed heavily upon them.

Revenge had been what drove them to act in the first place . . . duty what bound them to continue.

Sometimes it seemed inevitable, the slow decent into madness brought about by corruption and decay. Other times they could just make out a faint glimmer off in the distance, and the hope which sprung from that would be enough to force them on in their efforts once more.

Long ago they had realized that vengeance could never replace what the city had taken from them. That it was selfishness on their parts which had lead them to make a stand, not the noble intentions which the world had assumed.

Yet they fought on for a cause they no longer believed in, to atone for the sins they had meant to commit. Not out of fear of judgement or the great beyond . . . but out of some deep seeded self hatred and shame, the guilt of which weighed heavily upon their souls.

Giving up on Gotham now - would be to give up on themselves, to sink into the insanity they had worked so hard to stave off.

Repression

Wed, 11 Jun 2008 21:00:00 GMT

Title: Repression
Author: Akuiku
Rating:Pg-13
Word Count:600
Summery:The temptation to see him was at its worst when she patrolled...
Disclaimer: Still don't own them.

The first thought she’d had when she heard he was in the hospital was to drop everything and go to him. But the rational part of her mind wouldn’t let her. So she stayed away, even though every fiber of her being screamed at her to rush to his bedside. The boys were there, both of them plus Alfred and if she had to guess -Leslie too. It hurt but she stayed away, she spent most of her time in the cave watching over the city, fielding calls from Clark and the rest of the league.

Her father knew something was wrong, and she was sure he was wondering why she didn’t seem the least bit concerned that someone had just tried to kill her friend. If Alfred thought her presence was strangely lacking at the hospital, he never said anything - although he had far better things to worry about at the moment.

The temptation to see him was at its worst when she patrolled, when her rounds would take her within blocks of Gotham General. It was about a week after Bruce had ended up in the hospital when she finally caved and went to look in on him. It was dangerous, an unnecessary risk and Barbara expected him to be furious with her. She’d hacked into the hospital database and found out which room he was in. It was nearly two in the morning, and she was tiered and sore after patrol, but she forced herself to slip into the fourth floor window of Bruce Wayne’s private room.

She’d instantly been met with the constant beeping of monitors, the dripping of IV’s ... the quite snores of Tim who was curled up on a cot in the corner. She smiled ruefully at the boy before her eyes darted back to the figure in bed. His eyes were closed, his breaths even, for all intents and purposes he seemed to be asleep. Hesitantly she made her way toward his bedside, unwilling to wake either of the rooms occupants.

She grabbed the chart at the end of his bed, eyes quickly scanning over it’s contents. Frowning she set the chart back at the foot of his bed, her gaze flickering up to land on Bruce’s still form. He was lucky to be alive, with the number of times he’d been shot , the amount of blood he’d lost... he should be six feet under, but Bruce was nothing if not resilient. He’d been drifting in and out of consciousness for the last week, and Barbara wondered how he’d react when he fully realized where he was and what had happened.

Sighing she moved to his side, her hand hesitantly reaching out toward his own. She’d almost had a heart attack when his arm shot out, his hand clamping firmly around her wrist. At her gasp he’d let go, eyes immediately snapping open to stare up at her in confusion.

“What -” His voice was barely a croak, and she hushed him before he could even attempt to finish voicing his question.

“I know - I’ll leave ... I just ...” She frowned, staring down at him. “ ... it’s been a week Bruce ... I could only force myself to stay away for so long ...” That said she turned around and made her way toward the window on the far side of the room.

“Thank you” She could barely make out his whisper over the sound of the machines, when she did she froze turning to give him one last look. Her response was to nod silently in understanding before sweeping out of the window and into the night.

Bitter Memories

Wed, 11 Jun 2008 20:56:15 GMT

Title: Bitter Memories
Author: AkuIku
Rating:PG-13
Word count: 181
Summery:They were yelling again...
Disclaimer: DC owns her...

They were yelling again...

It was worse then usual this time. I could hear mommy screaming along with the slaps which would echo through the room as my father’s hand connected with her face. At four years old it was an all to familiar scene ... I couldn’t remember a time with out the screams or the beatings. But this time was worse, much worse.

This time mommy never woke up ....

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Awakening with a jolt, Barbara Gordon sat up in bed, one hand covering her chest in an effort to quell her racing heart. Releasing a strangled breath, she swallowed hard.

It was just a dream ....

She tried to remind herself that it wasn’t real - that it wasn’t happening all over again. But it never helped ... the memories always returned , always haunted her. Even as time had dimmed some of the minute details of the past - her feelings could never be forgotten. The pain, the anger, the fear ... they would always stay with her.

Closing her eyes she sighed ... how many years had it been since she had a decent nights sleep...

In the Beginning

Wed, 11 Jun 2008 20:51:24 GMT

Title: In the Beginning
Author: AkuIku
Rating:PG-13
Word Count:343
Summery:They were gone ...
Disclaimer: Still don't own him...

A boy dressed in a dark suit sat beneath a large oak tree. His eyes stared off listlessly into space, as if he didn’t even see his surroundings. Birds chirped, and flew about the clear winter sky. A layer of fresh snow coated the ground, making the world seem pure and innocent. However this boy knew that was not the case. He had learned first hand that the world was a cruel and hurtful place. If it wasn’t then he wouldn’t have had to burry his parents today.

He had snuck out of the reception that had followed his parents funeral. Leaving behind the suffocating confinements of Wayne Manor for the wide expanses of the mansions rose gardens. He sat there in silence for what seemed like an eternity, memories playing over and over in his mind... a kiss on the cheek from his mother as she tucked him in every night ... his father affectionately ruffling his hair as he went off to school ... the look on their faces as they laughed at him, coming out of the movie theater...

That was how he longed to remember his parents - happy ... but no matter how hard he tried to forget - the first image which would come to mind at the thought of his parents, was that of their broken forms lying strewn across the pavement. He feared that the image of his mothers pearls floating in a pool of blood would always haunt him. And that from now on the thought of his parents would no longer bring him joy, but instead grief. That he would not remember them for the good they had done, but for the horrific way in which their lives were brought to an end.

He tried valiantly to hold back the tears which were forming. Closing his eyes, he bit down hard on his lip to keep from sobbing. He had to be strong, for his parent ... they wouldn’t have wanted him to cry.

It was then that Bruce first came to the realization that this was how the world repaid kindness. That no matter what you did, there was always a maniac with a gun willing to kill you. So he decided then and there at eight years old that he was going to do something about it. What that was - he didn’t know... but he’d do something...

Addicts

Wed, 11 Jun 2008 20:45:47 GMT

Title: Addicts
Author: AkuIku
Rating:PG-13
Word Count:316
Summery:They were addicts -nothing good could possibly come from it.
Disclaimer: DC owns batman, all I can do is dream...

To devote or surrender oneself to something habitually or obsessively ...

That was the definition of an addict.

... and Bruce was an addict.

He knew it, she knew it ... hell the whole world knew it. They might not have known who it was beneath the mask, but they fully realized he was a man possessed by his own demons...

He was addicted to all the pain and the misery he could inflict upon himself. He was addicted to the long sleepless nights, his days spent in an agonizing countdown to dusk. He was addicted to the strain his weary muscles would give as he pushed his body just past its breaking point.

He’d spent years torturing himself endlessly, about things he could never have hope to control. Punished himself for failings which only he could find in himself.

Bruce was an addict ... and she was addicted to him.

No matter how many times he’d push her away - Barbara would always come back to him for more.

Whatever she had to offer - Bruce wanted more of , and it was slowly killing her. Draining her of everything she was, of the light which had always shined so brightly from her eyes. Of the hope she had always held so dearly. But most of all of the abundance of strength she’d always had.

Her very soul was chained by his addiction, her fate sealed from the moment she’d first laid eyes on him. And yet she was helpless, could do nothing to save herself - would do nothing to save herself.

Obsession could never fully convey the compulsions they felt. Nor would it excuse the misery which they forced upon each other. They were haunted - by the ghosts of their past, by the knowledge of their future, and by their contempt for their present.

They were addicts ... and nothing good could possibly come from it.

Of Like Minds

Wed, 11 Jun 2008 20:36:55 GMT

Title: Of Like Minds
Author: Akuiku
Rating:Pg-13
Word Count:900
Summery:“I wish you wouldn’t always try to guess what I’m thinking Bruce, your horrible at it.”
Disclaimer: Batman and all it's characters belong to DC.

The evening had gone surprisingly well ... too well if you asked Barbara.

The fact that Bruce had even suggested they go out to dinner, was enough to start sending up red flags in Barbara’s mind.

She wasn’t used to Bruce being so thoughtful... She wasn’t used to him relenting in general, let alone giving in completely to something which he had been so firmly set against. Even when he had done something wrong, even when he wanted something from her - Bruce had never been willing to compromise... yet, he suddenly was now - and it terrified her.

Barbara nervously adjusted the straps of her dress, anxiously waiting for the waitress to arrive with their check. She had a feeling that this was Bruce’s way of letting her down gently.

As the pair made their way slowly out of the restaurant, Barbara had to fight off the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Ignoring, the sudden urge to flinch which went though her as Bruce helped her into her coat. His fingertips brushing carelessly against the bare skin of her shoulders. The overwhelming sense of dread which filled her as she slipped silently into the backseat of their limo, combined with the pounding of her racing heart was enough to drive her to distraction.

Her mind was racing - waiting for those hated words that would spell the end of their relationship. She was so entrenched in her own thoughts, that she hardly noticed Bruce slide into the seat next to her, or the slam of the car door as it was closed. Simply put, Barbara was too shocked by how well things had gone, to notice these things. As they drove back to the Manor, Barbara was struck by how normal it all seemed.

As if having dinner with Bruce Wayne was an every day occurrence. Then again, now that she thought about it - to her it was...

“This was nice Barbara, we should do it again sometime”

She jumped slightly in her seat, startled by Bruce’s sudden statement. He’d obviously seen it because his face held this sort of bemused expression on it, one of his eyebrows raised in silent question.

Taking a deep breath, Barbara willed away the blush which had spread across her cheeks. Turning to Bruce, she managed to give a shaky yet unconvincing smile. “Sorry, I wasn’t really paying attention and you startled me.”

Bruce sighed turning away from her, his gaze settling on the scenery as it passed by. “You’re still mad at me aren’t you.”

Barbara frowned in confusion. “What are you talking about, I’m not mad at you.”

His head snapped her way, eyes narrowing at her words. “You’ve barely said three words to me the entire night. Of course you’re mad at me.”

Barbara sighed, shaking her head, her lips pressing firmly together. “I wish you wouldn’t always try to guess what I’m thinking Bruce, your horrible at it.”

Anger flashed through his eyes, he was getting annoyed with her, she could tell by the way he was clenching his jaw.“Then do tell Barbara, what is it you’re thinking in that little head of yours, that I’ve so thoroughly misconstrued.”

Looking him dead in the eye, Barbara replied in a hollow voice.“I’ve been wondering wether you’re going to dump me before or after you drag me to bed tonight.”

Silence reigned over them, Bruce’s eyes growing large at her words and the haunted tone she spoke them in.

“Why would you ...” Bruce couldn’t even form a coherent thought, not now - he was too shocked by what she had said.

“What was I supposed to think Bruce? That you had turned over some new leaf? That you were suddenly taking active interest in our relationship? That you were even allowing us to have a relationship, instead of keeping me hidden in the shadows like you usually do. I assumed that compromising your beliefs, was your way of letting me down gently.” Barbara forced herself to go silent, biting down painfully on her tongue to avoid any more of her bitter comments from spewing forth.

“Why do you always assume, I think so little of you Barbara?” He asked staring sadly at the ghost of a woman sitting beside him.

“Because I think so little of myself...” Tears had started to trickle down her face before she even finished her sentence.

Pulling the handkerchief from his jacket pocket, Bruce began to gently dab at each cheek. “It seems that lately all I manage to do is make you cry.”

Sniffling a bit, Barbara tried to pull herself together. Quelling her tears, Barbara gave Bruce a weak smile as he patiently tried to wipe away the streaks of mascara which now marred each of her cheeks. Bruce sighed, letting his hand fall away, before shoving his dampened handkerchief back into his pocket.

“I wasn’t trying to ‘let you down gently’.”Bruce said leaning back in his seat with a heavy sigh. “I was trying to prove I was actually committed to us...I just sucked at it.”

Barbara gave a very unladylike snort, smiling freely for the first time that night. “Why is it we can never seem to understand what the other one is thinking?”

Bruce turned away once again, his gaze lingering once again on the scenery. “I think we understand each other perfectly, we just don’t like what we’re thinking.”

Mash Game: Predict Your Future at eSPIN-the-Bottle

Wed, 11 Jun 2008 20:29:29 GMT



		I will marry Bruce Wayne.
		After a wild honeymoon, We will settle down in Gotham in our fabulous Shack.
		We will have 6 kid(s) together.
		Our family will zoom around in a blue motorcycle.
		I will spend my days as a homemaker, and live happily ever after.

Desperate Times

Wed, 11 Jun 2008 00:44:34 GMT

Title: Desperate Times
Author: AkuIku
Rating:PG
Word Count: 654
Summery: She was desperate ...
Disclaimer: I don't own.

She was desperate ...

That was the only reason she ever considered going to Bruce with her personal problems. God knows- the man had more then enough of his own issues to work through before trying to tackle any of hers. But as she had said before- she was desperate.

It took almost an hour for Barbara to work up enough courage to ask him. The whole time she had pretended to work on her bike while silently watching him from the corner of her eye.

“Do you think sometime we could talk?”

Her question struck him as odd. Raising an eyebrow his hands stilled upon the computer key’s.

Barbara mentally cringed... so much for finesse.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. “We’re talking right now”

Rolling her eyes, Barbara sighed.

“No I mean without the cape and cowls. Like normal people - without the feelings of impending doom hanging over us.”

He hesitated before turning away from the computer screen to glance at the redhead behind him. He could barely see her from his seat. She lay upon the floor of the cave ensconced in routine maintenance of her bike.

“Why”

“Why not?” She replied not bothering to look away from her task. “Isn’t that the type of thing friends normally do?”

“We’re not normal”

“No argument here, but even so what could it hurt?”

“What do you need?”

A loud thud reverberated through the cave as Barbara dropped her wrench.

“Why the hell do you assume I want something... is it so hard to believe I want to spend some free time with you?”

She asked while sitting up and for the first time that night looking him in the eye.

Bruce wished she hadn’t ... the pain was all to evident in her eyes for his liking. And for once in his life Bruce Wayne was the one to blink first. His eyes darting about the room to rest on everything but the woman before him.

He was uncomfortable and it was obvious. He always felt that way around Barbara ... she was usually so honest and open when it came to her emotions. And he - he just wasn’t.

“Willingly - yes”

“Fine then, forget I asked...” She said while pulling herself off the floor. Picking up her discarded wrench she walked over to the nearby workbench. Grabbing a rag she began to furiously wipe the excess grease off her hands.

Bruce sighed, running a hand through his hair.

She was upset ... He didn’t like it when she was upset. He wasn’t good with her when she was upset. Because frankly when it came to women - Bruce was a complete and utter failure. He never knew what to do, or the right thing to say - and most of the time it didn’t matter since half the women he went out with where only after his money. And the other half were only after him for his looks. Barbara, unfortunately fell into neither category of women.

She liked him for who he really was.

How she managed to do so he would never quite understand. Since it was something he himself was never able to accomplish.

Hesitantly he walked over to her, leaning against the edge of the workbench he faced her.

“What did you have in mind?”

Setting down the rag, her gaze remained fixed upon her hands. Her eyes refused to meet his.

“Nothing special - I just ... honestly I could use someone to talk to...”

“And you chose me”

At his questioning tone she looked up. Turning her head to the side her eyes locked on his.
And he wondered how they could gleam even in the darkness of the cave. Turning around she walked toward the stairs and out of the cave.

The final words she had whispered to him still echoing through his head.

“Incase you haven’t noticed B - your all I’ve got”

Dammit ... he had messed up again.

Love

Wed, 11 Jun 2008 00:39:05 GMT

Title: Love
Author: AkuIku
Rating: PG
Word Count: 105
Summery: short and sweet
Disclaimer: don't own Barbara...yet;)

She loved when they danced ...

She loved the way he’d pull her close, his hand resting gently on the small of her back.

She loved the way he’d burry his face in her hair, as she lay her head on his chest.

She loved the way he’d grasp her hand, fingers intertwining with her own.

She loved the tingle which would shoot through her body, as he whispered softly into her ear.

She loved the way he’d spin her around the dance floor.

She loved they way he’d make the rest of the world just fade away.

But most of all ... she just loved him.

Gratification

Wed, 11 Jun 2008 00:33:34 GMT

Title: Gratification
Author: AkuIku
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1002
Summery: ... I'm sorry
Disclaimer: Still don't own Batman

I’m sorry ...

She hated how those words could make her cave, or more precisely how those words said by Bruce could make her cave. Until tonight he’d never uttered those words to her, she doubted he’d ever uttered those words to anyone, and perhaps that was why she gave in so easily to him. It had seemed right at the moment ... looking back though, she supposed he’d once again played her for a fool.

She could feel his calloused fingertips, lazily tracing patterns over the bare skin of her back. Stretched out upon his chest, Barbara rose and fell with every breath he took. The gentle pounding of his heart, threatening to send her off to sleep.

Sighing, Barbara tried to sit up - only to find herself trapped within Bruce’s strong embrace.

“Bruce let go”

She’d startled him by her tone, Barbara could tell by the way he quickly released her from his hold. Scrambling to sit up in bed, Barbara tugged at the sheets, wrapping one around her chest.

“What’s wrong”

Barbara actually hesitated, before getting out of bed, turning to meet Bruce’s confused gaze. Remaining silent, Barbara only shook her head before beginning to gather her clothes off his bedroom floor.

“You’re leaving”

It was more of a statement then a question, and Barbara didn’t feel the need to answer it. She simply began to dress, refusing to glance in Bruce’s direction, even though the whole time she could feel his eyes glued to her.

“You’re still mad, aren’t you?”

Sighing, Barbara turned to him annoyance clearly showing on her face. “What did you expect... a nice dinner, and some roses to make everything better...?”

Bruce frowned, eyes narrowing at her - the effect of which was none, seeing as Barbara had long ago gotten used to his glares. “ It was more then that, I gave you what you wanted.”

Barbara scoffed, eyes glinting dangerously back at him. “...what I wanted - you mean a date ... well that was certainly very generous of you...” She spat, crumpling up the sheet she had been wearing and tossing it back at him.

Now he was even more confused, she could tell by the way his eyebrows furrowed, his frown becoming almost a pout. Sitting up fully in bed, Bruce crossed his arms over his chest. “I was trying to make you happy”

Unfortunately his answer did nothing, but upset Barbara more. “You don’t give a damn about wether or not I’m happy, if you did you wouldn’t have used me for the last year like some whore!”

The minute the words left her mouth she regretted them, or at least regretted speaking them out loud. Since the beginning, she’d always had that little voice whispering those words in the back of her mind. And she’d done her best over the past year to ignore it.

“I can’t do this anymore Bruce ...”She’d said it so softly she wasn’t sure Bruce had heard her, and when he remained silent she supposed he hadn’t.

Or at least she had, until his voice brought her out of her own thoughts.

“Can’t do what ...?”

Barbara cringed, eyes darting nervously about the room in an effort to look at anything but Bruce.

“This ... this thing - whatever it is going on between us ... I can’t do it anymore.” Barbara said, worriedly gnawing at her lower lip, eyes glassing over with tears. “ It’s too hard, Bruce ... at first - at first I could handle it ... there were no expectations, no strings attached... and that was fine the first couple of times ... but I’m not like you, I can’t pretend to feel nothing - I’m no good at it...”

“You’re leaving me” The lack of emotion behind his words further validated Barbara’s fears. She’d never meant anything to him - she’d just been an amusement ... something to distract him from his ever darkening thoughts.

“All we’re doing now is hurting each other...” Barbara said, turning to look him dead in the eye.

“I’m not going to ask you to stay”

“Of corse not” Barbara replied bitterly, trying to ignore the sickening feeling which had taken hold of her stomach.

Bruce turned away, eyes glancing out the frosted glass of his balcony’s doors. “I tired, you know... I tried to give you what you wanted...” He said, and Barbara forced herself to ignore the almost haunted look which overcame him.

“Sad thing is Bruce, the one thing I’ve always wanted... was something you could never give me.” His eyes found her’s once again, a sea of emotions immersed in blue staring stormily at her.

Sighing Barbara walked forward, sitting down at the end of his bed, she grasped one of his hands. Thumb brushing lightly against the back of his hand, memorizing the way he felt. “Even I’ve realized, that in the end I will never be enough for you. Your married to your work Bruce, always have been - always will be. The mission comes first. And I’m tiered of being your mistress - it just hurts too much.”

She leaned in to give him one finale kiss, it was to be her parting to him and this whole disastrous affair. Yet as she went to pull away, she once again found herself trapped within his embrace.

“I might not know the right words to say, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you” She shuddered as he spoke, his lips brushing carelessly against the skin of her neck.

She should have struggled, she should have yelled, she should have done anything but give in... but she couldn’t, her heart had betrayed her yet again. And as she felt him pull her closer, she couldn’t stop the tears which silently trickled down each of her cheeks.

With each piece of clothing that fell to the floor, she lost a little more of her self-respect. And with each sigh he drew from her lips, she lost a little more of her will to fight. Until she could do nothing more then submit herself fully to Bruce and his desires.

A Lesson all Men Must Learn

Wed, 11 Jun 2008 00:26:41 GMT

Title: A Lesson All Men Must Learn
Rating:PG-13
Word Count: 1301
Summery: Alcohol was known to impair one’s judgement.
Disclaimer: I don't own batman or Alfred ... DC does

Alcohol was known to impair one’s judgement. Which is why in general Bruce Wayne refrained from drinking, excluding the occasional glass of wine with dinner. Anything more, and Bruce could potentially jeopardize his mission. Something his sense of commitment, bordering upon obsession, would never allow him to do. Which is why Alfred was so surprised with the sight which currently met him.

Slumped back in a large arm chair Bruce Wayne sat glaring at the roaring fire before him, a half empty glass of brandy clutched in his right hand. Alfred sighed, for Bruce was obviously the cause of Mistress Barbara’s hasty departure. That in itself wasn’t so surprising, but the way in which he was handling himself was. It was on an almost infinite amount of previous occasions that Bruce’s inability to communicate, unwillingness to socialize, and generally offensive disposition had sent person or persons fleeing the confines of the manor. And every time Bruce had seemed relieved with the departure of his guests.

Yet here he was, drowning his sorrows in the finest Brandy money could buy. Which could only mean one thing ... he had done or more then likely said something extremely stupid again.

Clearing his throat Alfred made his presence known then silently stood beside the chair containing his master.

“Now Master Bruce, it is not a habit of mine to interfere with your personal affairs ...” At this Bruce gave a very undignified snort, then took another gulp of brandy. “ ...But something seemed to have upset Mistress Barbara greatly before she left, would I be correct in assuming that something was you?”

When posed with this question Bruce downed the rest of his drink before answering in a gruff voice. “You know it was Alfred”

“And what pray tell, Master Bruce, did you say to upset her so?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Grunted Bruce who’s eyes remained fixed on the empty glass he was twirling in his hand.

“Come now, Master Bruce, it couldn’t have been that bad.” Sighing Bruce got up from his seat once again walking the familiar path to the side bar. Pouring himself another glass of brandy, he smiled a bitter smile.

Taking another swig of his drink Bruce turned to look at his faithful servant. “Tell me Alfred what kind of a man gives out open invitations to his bed?”

The look on Alfred’s face was for a moment pure astonishment, which then turned quickly to that of reproach.

“Why Master Bruce I hope you are not suggesting that you propositioned Miss Gordon.”

“Of course not Alfred...” Said Bruce, eyes narrowing as he once again collapsed into his chair. Clearly offended Bruce nonchalantly turned to Alfred. “I’ve been sleeping with her for the last year- I hardly have to persuade her to come to bed with me - she does it willingly.”

Alfred gaped for a few moments, mouth hanging wide open, he managed to mutter “Oh, my word”

Mouth shutting with a deafening click, Alfred continued to stare blankly at Bruce. Behind them a grandfather clock struck midnight, it’s chimes echoing through the room. Snapping back to reality, the older man, still a bit shaken made his way to the side bar. “Forgive me sir, but I believe I am in need of some refreshments - that was quite a shock...”

Bruce waited for his old friend to settle in the chair across from him, a glass of sherry in hand. Once he had, he began to lament upon his situation - an action which he would entirely blame upon the large amounts of alcohol he had consumed.

“I don’t understand what’s wrong Alfred ... I try to do the right thing - yet every time I end up hurting her more.” Bruce said his wide, slightly blood shot, eyes gazed up at Alfred imploringly as he slumped in his chair.

Sighing Alfred silently wondered if it was through any fault of his own, that Bruce had turned out to such an emotionally challenged individual. “Might I suggest Master Bruce that you go about things in a different way.”

“How so...?” Asked Bruce leaning forward in anticipation.

“Master Bruce it seems to me that you’ve come to an impasse... you can either do your best to part amicably...” Bruce’s bitter laughter filled the room, as he muttered something along the lines of - amicable my ass ...

“you saw her when she left” Bruce said, leveling Alfred with an annoyed look.

Alfred ignored his remark, continuing on in his advice. “...Or you could try to put aside your fear of commitment, and embark upon a real relationship.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, sighing in frustration. “Don’t you think I know that Alfred. But it’s not that easy...” He said, eyes fixated on the fire once more.

“Life never is sir ...” Alfred quietly replied, eyes gazing sadly at the shell of a man who sat before him. He’d never noticed before, just how much Bruce had lost of himself. He seemed almost unrecognizable now, in the muted light of the fire.

“It’s dangerous enough now, and to the world we’re nothing but acquaintances...could you imagine what it would be like if we were seen as anything more... How else am I supposed to keep her safe Alfred... how else am I supposed to protect her.” Bruce said, gazing hopefully at the older man. Wishing for some kind of flaw in all his rationalizations.

“Perhaps that is the problem sir... Miss Gordon has never sought your protection... your trust, your respect - and I suppose even your love ... but never once did she want you to shield her from the evils of the world - evils which she face every night might I add. ” Said Alfred, once again slipping into the roll of faithful servant.

Picking up Bruce’s empty glass, which lay forgotten on the floor by his chair, Alfred grabbed his own glass and returned to the side bar.

“She’s not as innocent as you want her to be ... she never has been, and she never will be... that’s something you both have in common, sir.” Alfred said, glad for a moment that Bruce was currently facing away from him so that he didn’t have to see his reaction.

Bruce’s next words shocked Alfred, almost as much as the apparent ease at which Bruce stood up. Turning with alarming steadiness, considering the amount of Brandy he had drunk, Bruce faced Alfred.

“You think I don’t know that - that I haven’t always known that ... I’m a smart man Alfred, I know when I’m being manipulated - and I know when to look the other way.” Bruce said slowly making his way to the doorway of his den.

“A bit of a double standard I suppose” Alfred said, and Bruce supposed that maybe he was right.

He hated being played the fool, anyone else and they never would have gotten away with it. Bruce’s response was the first thing which came to mind. “She’s special”

He knew it wasn’t really an excuse, but for him it was enough.

Alfred smiled, his accent once again becoming chipper. “I believe sir, that is the one thing out of this entire conversation on which we can agree.”

Bruce smiled back, leaning lazily against the doorjamb. “So what do I do now?”

If Bruce hadn’t had so much to drink then he probably could have made out the smirk which made its way onto Alfred’s face. “Well Sir, have you thought of sending her some flowers - perhaps a card.”

Bruce groaned, burying his head in his hands. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Shaking his head at the young man’s naivete, Alfred made his way to the door. Reaching up to pat Bruce lightly on the shoulder, Alfred spared him a bemused glance.

“This is a lesson every man must learn for himself, when all else fails - grovel”

Undaunted

Mon, 09 Jun 2008 01:05:53 GMT

Title: Undaunted
Characters: Bruce Wayne , Barbara Gordon
Rating:PG-13
Word Count:626
Summery: ... it was around the fifth time I ended up in bed with him that I actually brought up the notion of us being in some kind of relationship

I believe it was around the fifth time I ended up in bed with him that I actually brought up the notion of us being in some kind of relationship. Something which he flatly denied... much to my chagrin. Apparently we had some kind of understanding ... unfortunately I seemed to miss what it actually was.

It wasn’t till the second month of our tumultuous affair that I started to ponder just what it was we were doing. At the time all we seemed to be doing was fighting - mainly over wether we had a relationship or not.

“It’s a date! One date ... dinner and a movie, what the hell is so hard about that!” I had questioned while throwing my hands up in the air. The argument had only just started and already I was furiously pacing before the fireplace.

“For the last time Barbara, No - I don’t date ... at least not seriously” Bruce had said while shaking his head. The files he had been trying to read only moments ago lay forgotten on the couch beside him.

“Why not Bruce ... Why not try it”

“Because it would never work” The sedateness of his voice only seemed to agitate me more. I could never understand how he could act so calm when we were fighting. He’d hardly raise his voice to me at all, which lead me to believe he was patronizing me.

“How can you be so sure?” I demanded.

“Because it never does - not with me” From the way he stated it I knew he believed it whole heartedly and it hurt. Because it was at these moments when I felt nothing but dirty and used. At first I had been so angry that I was unable to form complete sentences.

“Ugh ... how can you... why would you ...”

After a while I stopped sputtering and fixed him with a glare.

“If it’s not going to work out, then why sleep with me in the first place!” I had screeched, my voice echoing throughout the Manor.

Bruce remained silent, fixing me with a look full of reproach. Despite my anger I managed to have the decency to blush in embarrassment. No doubt Alfred and Tim had heard my last comment ...

“ Look I’m sorry... I shouldn’t have done that. I’m a grown woman acting like a child who didn’t get her way. I’m far to old to be throwing temper tantrums...”

Still Bruce remained silent.

Sighing I sat down next to him, casting a weary glance in his direction.

“You known I won’t give up right” I whispered, eyes fixated on the fire in front of me. Trying my best to fight back the tears which were forming in the corners of my eyes.

He snorted lightly, a sad smile pulling at his lips, his eyes sliding shut.

It had always been a matter of pride for me - that I never allowed others to see me cry. And Bruce knew that out of everyone, I made it a point to never once shed a tear in his presence - no matter how badly I wanted to.

In his mind, if he couldn’t give me what I wanted the least he could do was let me leave with my pride intact. Because no matter how much I doubted it - he cared for and respected me... and he had never meant to hurt me. He waited until he heard the sound of the door being closed to open his eyes. And when he did he found himself once again alone.

“You known I won’t give up right” Barbara’s words still hung in the air long after she had left.

“From you I’d expect nothing less...” He whispered all the while trying to ignore the hollow ache forming in his chest.

Good Mood

Sun, 08 Jun 2008 23:53:44 GMT

Title:Good Mood
Characters: Bruce, Barbara, Tim
Rating: PG
Word Count:441
Summery: He was smiling ...

He was smiling . . .

It wasn’t a grin or a smirk, it wasn’t even the fake smile he used out in public to maintain his playboy image - no it was an actual smile . . . and Tim had never been more scared in his life.

He had never seen Bruce this happy before, certainly not this early in the morning. No he was used to coming down to breakfast to find his adoptive father barricaded behind the latest edition of the Gotham post. The only conversation he’d get was a few grunts and a mumbled goodbye as Bruce headed out to work. Yet here he was - smiling while sipping at a cup of coffee. He hadn’t even touched this morning’s newspaper.

Glancing from the corner of his eyes he watched the man beside him as he ate. He sat there in a pair of black silk pajama pants and a red bathrobe. Looking as though he had just rolled out of bed, grabbed a robe and gone to breakfast. This was something entirely unlike the Bruce Wayne Tim had grown to know.

He was usually meticulous in his appearance. Showing up for breakfast only after he had showered, shaved, and dressed immaculately. His sudden disregard for his appearance was unsettling, as was the sudden breach of his morning routine. For change was not something Bruce underwent willingly.

“Is something wrong Timothy?” Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow.

Tim blinked . . . “No nothing is wrong”

“Then why might I ask, have you been staring at me like that?” He asked setting down his fork and watching his young ward as he hesitantly tried to answer his question.

“Your smiling . . . you don’t smile”

“I can if I want to”

Tim sighed, grabbing his backpack and following Alfred out of the kitchen and off to school.

‘Sometimes he really didn’t understand Bruce’

It wasn’t until, five minutes later when Barbara slipped into the kitchen that the source of Bruce’s smile became evident. Yawning she entered the room dressed only in Bruce’s black silk pajama top.

“I see the coast is clear.” She joked with a smile. Padding over to the table, she gave Bruce a quick kiss on the cheek before sitting down in the seat Tim had just vacated.

“I don’t know how you can stand to get up this early” She said as he poured her a cup of coffee.

“After all these years I’m used to late nights and early mornings.” He said with a smile.

“You know if you keep that up - someone will get suspicious.” Warned Barbara.

Shrugging Bruce glanced at the woman beside him. “What can I say, I’m in a good mood”

About Time Really ...

Sun, 08 Jun 2008 22:37:15 GMT

Ok So I've finally decided to work on my journal ... I mean I've had it forever yet I don't really use it - which is just stupid. Hopefully this will become the one place where I have all my writings all together because right now my fics are kind of floating around the net on a bunch of random sites.

You might ask why I have suddenly decided to finally put some effort into my journal - well I've spent the last week basically in bed because I hurt my foot and wasn't allowed to put any weight on it whatsoever. I have another week before I get my stitches out and I'm slowly going insane trapped here in my little apartment ... so I decided to be creative!

At the moment I doubt anyone is reading this - hopefully after a little work I'll be able to wrangle up some more friends. Might even be able to find fellow Bruce/ Barbara shippers if I'm lucky.

Well that's it really - this will hopefully be the first of many posts.

Wish me Luck - Akuiku

DCFFA Challenge Fic: An Unspoken desire

Mon, 21 Jan 2008 05:10:29 GMT

“Just because we do what we do, doesn’t mean we need to be lonely.”

She’d told him that once...

He can’t remember what brought about this little bit of sage like wisdom, only vaguely remembers hearing it over his com-link and wondering if Barbara was talking to herself again.

He hadn’t gotten it then...

He dismissed it as idealistic, asserted that being alone was best for his mission, and cringed at how easily he could fool himself into really believing that.

And for a while that was enough...

Ignorance is bliss they say, and while Bruce wasn’t exactly on cloud nine, he was more then willing to disregard the nagging feelings brought about by a certain redhead.

It was taboo really, to fall in love with your sidekick....even if she was a full grown woman.

Sometimes Bruce wondered if this was the universes idea of a joke... then he’d come back to the cave and find her slumped over the computer consol asleep, that nagging hollow-like feeling would return and Bruce would realize that none of this was funny at all.

He only allowed himself to acknowledge the depth of his feelings when he was alone. Confined his fantasies to darkened nights, secluded in the sanctuary of his bedroom.

For in his mind he was free to say and do as he pleased...

At night he’d stare blankly at the ceiling, eyes tracing intricate patterns in the wood panels, his thoughts inevitably landing upon her.

She didn’t know ... he made sure of that, knew she’d be shocked by the affection he hid behind a mask of indifference.

She was his ... He wasn’t sure when that startling revelation came to him, but for some time now the possessive voice in his head had been calling her that.

She was his ... she just didn’t know it yet.

The heart is a funny thing, once set it cannot be swayed.

He’d learned that the hard way, and after months... no, years of battling his conscience he could no longer ignore his feelings. So he plotted...planned meticulously night after night, devising a way to capture her heart. Because he was Batman, and he was in love- and that was all he knew how to do.

DCU Free for all

Fri, 18 Jan 2008 01:55:10 GMT

OK here's my prompts table for the Free for all challenge... I"m going to try and complete all 70 - because I'm up for a challenge and I've been looking for a little inspiration.

01.	alone	02.	vulnerable	03.	naked	04.	empty	05.	blind
06.	lose/lost	07.	binding	08.	defy authority	09.	rebellion	10.	retribution
11.	insanity	12.	unstable	13.	questioning	14.	haunted	15.	nightmare
16.	buried	17.	death	18.	left behind	19.	withheld	20.	scream
21.	issues	22.	denial	23.	force	24.	mutilate	25.	abuse
26.	invisible	27.	temptation	28.	addiction	29.	choke	30.	suffer
31.	agony	32.	cry/tears	33.	burn	34.	smoke	35.	ashes
36.	cast-off	37.	outside	38.	mistake	39.	regret	40.	procrastinate
41.	wander	42.	scar/scarred	43.	cursed	44.	useless	45.	replacement
46.	intervene	47.	traitor	48.	cold	49.	wild	50.	hot/heated
51.	blood	52.	burden	53.	karma	54.	guilt	55.	solitude
56.	conceal	57.	encounter	58.	atonement	59.	absolution	60.	punish
61.	anxiety	62.	winter	63.	torture	64.	bitter	65.	baggage
66.	writer's choice	67.	writer's choice	68.	writer's choice	69.	writer's choice	70.	writer's choice

a man who gets what he wants

Tue, 10 Jul 2007 18:41:13 GMT

I was so tiered of the fear and the loneliness and the pain, that for once I just acted. As we stood there at the window watching the darkened night, I reached out and grabbed hold of his hand. I had been expecting him to act surprised or even jerk his hand out of my grasp. But he did just the opposite, curling his fingers around mine and gently squeezing my hand in his. Letting out the breath I had been holding I sighed, glancing at him from the corner of my eye briefly.

“I should go home”

“I know”

Even though we said it neither one of us went to move. Instead we stood there, hands intertwined gazing up at the endless night sky. And for a while, the world wasn’t such a lonely place, and anything seemed possible.

Suddenly I felt his fingers slipping from my grasp, and I knew that in a moment I would find myself standing alone, all signs of my former companion gone. It was the perfect metaphor for our relationship and my life ... I’d always come so close only to have the things I want slip away.

“Good night Bruce” I whispered while watching his back move farther and farther away in the reflection of the glass.

He must have herd me, for he stopped in his retreat and glanced back at me.

“You don’t have to go ... you can always stay...”

And I knew what he said was true, I had always had an open invitation at the Manor. And I had often taken Bruce up on his offer after long nights and endless hours of research and patrolling ... but never before had he offered what he did now, an open invitation to his bed ... an offer I wasn’t sure I should be excepting.

I was ready to turn him down, but I made the mistake of looking him the eyes. The saying ‘the eyes are the windows of the soul’ had never been truer then in that one moment. The longer I gazed into his stormy blue eyes the more I felt my resolve slowly slipping away.

“You really are a very hard man to resist Bruce...” I whispered trying to walking past him to the door. I hesitated my hand resting on the handle of the door, just long enough for him to stand behind me. Leaning down, hands resting upon my shoulders, he whispered in my ear “I always get what I want.” his hot breath tickling the shell of my ear and causing me to shiver.

“I know...” I sighed “but not yet.”

And with that I opened the door and swept down the vacant halls of Manor, stopping long enough to grab my coat and purse from Alfred mutter a quick good-bye, and leave for the safety of my apartment.

Bruises

Tue, 10 Jul 2007 18:35:25 GMT

Bruises, a common place in her line of work. They marred her pale skin, from the subtlest hues of yellow to gruesome shades of black. Barbara sighed as she turned off her shower, ending the stream of hot water which had soothed her aching muscles. She grabbed a towel wrapping it around her lithe form, and used another to dry her auburn locks. Sitting down Barbara began to treat her wounds. She struggled, feeling a sharp pain with every intake of breath. She had broken most of her ribs. She should have taken Batman up on his offer to go back to the cave and administer first aid. But her pride hadn’t allowed her to.

In her mind she still liked to believe that he didn’t know who it was beneath the mask of Batgirl.

So instead she had told him she was fine. That her injuries were only minor, and all she needed was to go back to her apartment and rest. It was a lie and Batman knew it. He had this annoying ability of always knowing when she lied to him. But he hadn’t protested, no instead he had followed her as she journeyed home. He had kept his distance but still she had felt his presence, felt his gaze as he watched her. And yet she had continued on like nothing was amiss. As if that would trick him into believing her. No, it hadn’t and she was sure he was still nearby lurking in the shadows.

She didn’t hear him as he slipped in her bedroom window. But she knew he was there, standing behind her, she could once again feel his eyes on her. She didn’t bother turning around, didn’t bother saying anything. Instead she continued on in her endeavors, failing miserably in her effort to wrap her chest. Her pain limiting her movements, she gasped as a sharp stab went through her. The cause of which, was a large hand that had found its way to her side. Barbara struggled to breathe as Batman felt his way around her rib cage. She cried out when he touched a particularly sore spot.

By then he had seen enough, she was far from fine. He had known that from the beginning, but not the full extent of her injuries. Cradling her in his arms he carried her out of her bathroom and lay her down on her bed. Disappearing for a moment he returned to her bedroom, first aid kit in hand. He found her dressed in a pair of black shorts with a towel covering her chest. Removing his gloves he grabbed some bandages and sat down on the side of her bed. Barbara tried her best to will away the blush which rose to her cheeks as she dropped the towel. Nonetheless she turned her head away and refused to look at him. Gently he started to wrap the cloth around her rib cage, repeating the motion over and over again. Until there was a thick layer of bandages covering her chest.

Barbara had wisely remained silent, for the tension between them was palpable. She probably would have tried to apologize or at least make up some argument in her favor if it hadn’t been for the fact that a strange man she hardly knew was methodically wrapping bandages around her bare chest. Something which he seemed completely unfazed by, which only served to irritated her more.

He helped her lay back in bed, watching as she winced in pain. Putting on his gloves, he got up to leave. Not bothering to turn around he said "You know Barbara that was really stupid" and then disappeared into the night.

Barbara wasn’t sure why but for some reason she had cried that night. Slowly she had drifted off to sleep, tears threatening to spill over her half-closed eyes. And it was then she decided to do better, if not for herself then for him.

Because she never wanted to feel like this again . . .

If only she had known such goals were unobtainable, maybe she would have given up her crime fighting then and there.

The space between dreams and reality

Tue, 10 Jul 2007 18:32:02 GMT

In the beginning I would sneak out of the manor under the cover of darkness. Every morning was the same, I would silently leave his bed, gather my clothes and dress. He wouldn’t try to stop me- I never asked to stay . . . that was just the way things were.

One morning, months later when I tried to slip out of bed I felt him lay his hand on my arm. That was as much of an invitation to stay as I would ever receive. But even so, the weight of his silent request was enough to make me slide back into bed and settle beside him.

Sleep never came easy to Bruce. He had been plagued by nightmares since the death of his parents. To this day he still wakes up panicked, as if he doesn’t recognize his own room, the room he’s lived in for the last thirty years.

It always takes him a moment to compose himself, and then every so often I’d feel his eyes come to rest upon me, and I’d pretend not to notice. It was weird at first, how he’d watch me some times . . . as if he was just checking to make sure I was really there. Like I was some kind of figment of his imagination. He had to have known I was awake, but it didn’t matter . . . He never said anything and neither did I.

I often wondered what he saw when he stared at me, but I never had the nerve to ask him. He wouldn’t have told me anyway. I may have been sleeping with him, but even so some things were off limits. Actually most things were off limits, and I understood and respected that invisible boundary he had erected between us.

If it was a good night, he would eventually fall back to sleep. If not I’d hear the rustling of sheets as he quietly made his way out of the room and down the hall. On those nights he’d never make it back to bed, and I can only imagine what he was doing.

Rain

Tue, 10 Jul 2007 18:30:04 GMT

Rain always seemed to darken his mood . . .

Often I’d find him staring out the windows of the Manor, waiting for the storm clouds to roll in.

I suppose he could feel the rain before it came - a dull ache in every joint, in every healed bone, beneath every scar . . .

Rain always seemed to put him in a philosophical mood . . .

Which was never a good thing for a man haunted by so many demons.

It always surprised me what he’d come up with when left alone with his thoughts.

He once remarked that rain was heaven’s tears come to wash away the sins of the world.

Which had thrown me since Bruce was never a religious man . . .

Over the years he had seen many things and if anything he had come to resent the implications of God as some benevolent higher power.

Which was what made his statement all the more confusing, yet from the look in his eyes I could tell he actually meant it . . .

I chose to quietly remind him that he didn’t believe in god - or heaven.

He said that sometimes he wished that he could . . .

and for once I agreed with him . . .

Excessive chain

Tue, 10 Jul 2007 18:27:00 GMT

It was three forty-five in the morning when I finally got fed up with waiting for him to come to bed. Lately he hadn’t been sleeping, and it showed by his ever darkening mood. Grabbing my robe, I headed toward his study, and down the steps to the cave. From the bottom of the stairs I called out to him through the darkness, his form barely visible in the glow of the computer monitor.

“Bruce it’s late . . . you should get some sleep”

“I’m busy”

“It’s almost four in the morning Bruce and you have a meeting at seven I really think . . . ”

“I don’t care what . . . ” He managed to stop himself mid-sentence, perhaps I should give him credit for realizing his mistake . . . but the damage was already done. For a moment there was only silence and I just stood there staring at him, then turned and left. I could hear him calling out to me but I didn’t listen . . . and that night I didn’t return to his bed.

When we argued, I always found myself sitting alone in my neglected apartment, wondering what exactly we were doing.

“Barbara I didn’t mean . . . ”

And he’d always slip through one of the windows, and try to explain himself. Tonight I just didn’t feel like listening to another one of his excuses.

“Ever since I joined the league I’ve been neglecting my . . . ”

“Family . . . ?” I said with a raised eyebrow. “Your completely right Bruce - Tim has been complaining about how he never sees you anymore. And I know you haven’t even tried to speak to Dick in over a month. And I’m sure I’d see you even less if we didn’t occasionally share a bed.”

“Barbara . . . ” Perhaps it was wishful thinking but Bruce actually sounded sorry for once. But that didn’t stop my biter response from issuing forth.

“I’m so happy that you finally decided to take the time to reassess your priorities - maybe next time you might pick a more conventional hour in which to deliberate.”

And by the time I had turned around he was gone, an open window the only proof he had been there in the first place. And I was once again left alone wondering just what we were doing.

Still

Tue, 10 Jul 2007 18:25:24 GMT

The feel of the wind on your face as you fly through the air becomes addicting after a while. The rush that shoots through your body as you take that first leap off a roof is indescribable. Almost as much as the agony which overcomes you with each person you fail to save. The mixture of pain and pleasure is enough to drive even the sanest of men to the brink of madness. And Bruce Wayne was never foolish enough to believe himself completely sane.

Perched atop the roof of the Wayne Enterprise building, his eyes blankly gazed upon the city which surrounded him. It had been a quiet night, a welcome brake from the normal chaos that seemed to encompass Gotham. He should have been at home, gaining back precious hours of lost sleep. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to go home - not now. His mind was a flurry of thoughts . . . none of which seemed to make sense. Closing his eyes he sighed into the darkness - he was getting too old for this . . .

Snow

Tue, 10 Jul 2007 18:21:26 GMT

It was snowing again . . . yet another cold front had moved into the area blanketing the city in a layer of white. Barbara had always enjoyed the snow. It seemed the only time when Gotham could ever appear pure and innocent. She laughed to herself at the thought, something which did not go unnoticed by her companion.

“What’s so funny?” He asked, eyes barely glancing sideways in her direction.

The wind ruffled her hair as she turned to answer him. “I was just thinking how beautiful Gotham looks covered in snow . . . majestic almost.” She said a small smile breaking out upon her face.

“Looks can be deceiving.” He said this time turning his head to look at her.

Shaking her head, her smile faltered a bit as she turned to face the city once again. “That was exactly what I was reminding myself . . . even so, the city does look beautiful tonight - especially from up here . . . you’ve got the best view in Gotham.”

From the corner of her eye she could just make out a hit of a smile tugging at his lips.

He spoke again, and she silently wondered if he was going for a new record.

“It’s getting colder. We should head back to the cave.”

The way he said it was even more surprising, it wasn’t a command. There was no hint of a threat or an order lurking in his voice. Simply a statement, and considering how cold it had gotten a fairly logical one at that. Part of her longed for the warmth and comfort of the indoors. But another part of her simply wanted to stay on that rooftop forever. She sighed, eventually the cold would get to her. And eventually she would have to leave . . . but not now.

“You go, I don’t mind the cold - and I’d like to enjoy the view for a bit longer - while it lasts.” She said, whispering the last part to herself.

Gazing off toward the city below us, she expected to hear the rustle of his cape as he swept into the darkness . . . yet she heard nothing. Staring out into the night she wondered why he chose to stay with her. As the silence engulfed them, she wondered if it was the view or the prospect of a pure uncorrupted Gotham which kept them from leaving the rooftop. She supposed the later to be the truth, although she’d never claim to understand the workings of Bruce’s mind. His motives were as always entirely his own.