Love in the Dark

I sat awkwardly across from Bruce at the dinner table, my mother sitting in between us. I played with the small bits of salad on my plate with my fork, staring hard at it, not wanting to make eye contact with him. When Alfred came out with the dinner plates, I set my fork down, allowing him to exchange the salad with a salmon. I smiled on the inside, salmon was my favorite dish, but I wasn't about to let Bruce know he had chosen something I liked.

"So, how are you, Beth," he asked.

I looked up and replied, "Fantastic."

"How's school?"

"Great."

"What are you studying?"

"Journalism."

"Oh? What kind?"

"Music."

"What is that?"

"Rolling Stone."

"Do you usually only use one word to answer questions?"

"No."

"Why now?"

"Because."

He frowned, and I smiled. Picking up my fork, I took a piece of the salmon, mixed it in the rice, and placed it in my mouth, savoring the delicious flavor of the fish. I took a sip of my tea and prepared my fork for another bite.

"So, what do you think of Gotham?"

Looking up with him, I knew he expected more than just a word response. Putting my fork down to rest on my plate I smiled and replied, "Nice."

"Nice? That's all you're going to say is nice?"

I shrugged.

"Gotham is not nice. Gotham is terrible."

My smile disappeared. Gotham? Terrible? I frowned and shook my head, "What are you talking about?"

"Haven't you been paying attention to the news?"

"I'm sorry that Gotham isn't number one on the world crisis meter."

"Fifteen people died last month."

"Fifteen?"

Bruce nodded.

"No... there's no way fifteen people died. How?"

"They were all murdered."

"Murdered?"

"Yes."

Looking at my mom I said, "Did you know about this?"

"No, I wasn't aware of it."

Bruce sighed, "Gotham, sadly, isn't the safest place in the world anymore."

"Was it ever," I asked.

"No... I guess not."

"I mean, after your parents died.... Your dad worked hard trying to make Gotham a better place."

Bruce nodded, a nostalgic smile splitting across his face. Dinner was quiet after that. I finished my fish and rice, sad that my mouth wouldn't be able to taste the magnificent meal again for the rest of the night. We excused ourselves from the table one at a time, my mother first, then myself. I took my wine glass and went outside to walk in the gardens. I managed to go through the upper levels before I was joined by Bruce. I made eye contact with him, and gave him kind of a warning glance, letting him know that I was not fond of the idea of him being in my private time. He didn't seem to notice, or care. Instead, he walked with me.

"It really is good to see you again, Bethy." I loathed how he used his childhood name for me, Bethy, "I've um.... I've um... missed you a lot, actually." I looked at him, giving him a look that was to let him know that I didn't believe a word he was saying, "No really, I did."

"Whatever Bruce," I said, "Go splash your story across the tabloids, they'll find it more useful than I will."

"Why are you angry with me?"

Stopping I looked at him and said, "Because I never wanted to come here ever again. Because I never wanted to see you ever again. Because I never wanted to come anywhere near this house, you, or the city that I loved ever again. And now I'm here, in this house, with you, and I'm hate every second of it."

"Aw, come on now, it can't all be that bad."

"And from what I recall, you never wanted to see me again. So why are you trying to play nice?"

"Because I was angry when I said those words.... I didn't know that you meant yours until that next summer when you never came.... I was really hurt, Bethy."

"Don't call me that. It's Bethany or Beth."

Bruce wrapped his arm around my waist, "I like Bethy more."

Shrugging out of his touch I replied, "Well I don't," walking back to the stairs that lead up and down the levels of the garden and to the house, I turned back, "Is that one bar still open? The one that our parents use to go to?"

"I don't think you should go into Gotham at night."

"I don't think you should be telling me what to do."

"It's not safe."

"For a tourist. But for someone who knows this city like the back of her hand it's not that threatening."

Bruce came to me, "No. I was serious when I said Gotham has become more dangerous.... I don't want to open the paper in the morning and read about how a young and beautiful brunette was brutally mugged and raped last night."

"I'm not going to get mugged or raped."

"But why take the chance?"

"Why not make your own chances?"

"I've seen that method fall through."

I smiled sweetly at him, "Well, watch mine." Turning around I went back inside the house.

"Beth! You need to listen to me," Bruce came in, setting his glass down on a flat surface, "Gotham isn't the place for someone like you to just go out and play." He grabbed onto my arm and held me in place.

"Master Wayne is right," came Alfred's voice from behind us. I turned to look at him and his face was serious, "I wouldn't want to see you get hurt. Perhaps, you could go out and have lunch tomorrow."

I nodded, "Gotham is really falling, isn't it?"

Bruce nodded.

"And no ones saving it?"

"There is, one person," said Alfred, "We call him, Batman."

I looked at him, then at Bruce, "Really?"

"He's saved Gotham from many a villain," said Alfred.

"But he's a wanted criminal," Bruce said, "A man who takes crime into his own hands? What kind of city would we be to allow that to continue?"

I pulled my arm out of his grasp and stood there, "How long has he been doing this?"

"For a while now."

"And the police are no where near catching him?"

"Well with him handing them every bad guy this city has, they're a little hesitant to try and nab him."

I smiled, "As they should be. But still, it's wrong to support vigilantism like that. Aren't they afraid that others will copy him? Risk their lives unnecessarily?"

"Yes," Bruce nodded, "But this guy is hard to find."

"What?"

"He wears a mask, and he's stealthy."

I laughed, "Well, who are we to stop Superman from saving our town?"

Bruce smiled, "Yeah.... Who are we?"

I excused myself from the discussion and went to my room to bathe and change into my pajamas. As I brushed through my wet hair I thought about Bruce's words and realized that in a way, I missed him too. We were both young and stupid, him sixteen and I twelve. We said stupid things because we were both upset with how the situation was going, we did stupid things because of what was said. Pulling on a robe, I walked down the hall and knocked on Bruce's room, getting no answer.

"Bruce?"

Nothing.

Knocking again, I opened the door to find his bed made. I closed it and went down stairs, wondering if he were still talking with Alfred, but he was no where to be found. Going into the parlor, I looked to my left, and our of the corner of my eye I thought I saw the book case move. Turning back quickly, I saw nothing out of the ordinary. Walking over, I examined the shelving units and found nothing that triggered my curiosity. Leaving the room, I went back to mine, and settled in to sleep.