‹ Prequel: The Joker and the Thief
Status: Don't worry. There's another one...
A Serious House on Serious Earth
Worry
I felt Bruce’s body become ridge around me but only for a brief second. Closing my eyes, I mentally punched myself. This was a slightly inappropriate moment to profess your love for someone. My love, which indeed it was, was inappropriate in itself. Bruce was over ten years older than me. He was my employer. He was Bruce Thomas Wayne, a billionaire magnate who apparently spent his free time fighting Gotham’s crime while dressed as a bat. I was Victoria Marie Bradley, a secretary with a criminal background who has been repeatedly harassed by a delusional clown while trying to keep her sanity intact. We were friends. We had sex a couple of times. But an actual relationship? It would never work.
Bruce leaned forward, causing me to look him in the face. His brown eyes began to scan my face, looking for something that probably wasn’t there. The only thing he found was sincerity and a number of tears. He raised a gloved hand to my face and lightly brushed an escaped tear from my cheek. “Marie, I…” He started before thinking better of it. My stomach twisted even more. Then a wave of determination swept over Bruce’s face.
He nearly knocked my backwards when he pushed his lips to mine. I was completely taken aback, probably just as Bruce was at my initial statement. I gladly took the kiss as an unspoken, “I love you too”, and so I returned his kiss.
I straightened the stack of papers before closing the file and locking it in my desk drawer. It had been a month since my heart to heart with Bruce Wayne, who was officially on a business trip to Asia. But Batman was now working day and night to recapture all the escaped inmates and to deal with the everyday crime. He also insisted that I stay at Wayne Manor until the city was safe. Or as safe as Gotham would ever be.
The heat wave had been replaced by numerous thunder and rainstorms. Though it wasn’t raining at the time when I exited Wayne Tower, the street and sidewalks were still covered in the evidence of recent rains. My hair was now cut to an extreme boyish length. Bruce’s hair was now longer than my own. I had also relapsed and decided to trade my natural red in for a dark auburn color. All physical evidence of my trip into Arkham Asylum was gone. I had not manage to pick up anymore scars to join the one engraved on my arm.
I buttoned my raincoat before walking towards the corner in search of a taxi. As I opened the door of one and prepared to save myself from the oncoming rain, I spotted a man across the street. I didn’t recognize him, but I knew what he was even before he brought the camera to his eye and furiously began to snap pictures. Since the excitement and public interest regarding the ‘Arkham Riots’ have waivered, some of less-than-respectable new sources had fallen back on their typical targets; the famous. That meant Bruce Wayne but more importantly Bruce Wayne’s love life which, at the current moment, involved me.
The tabloids had yet to find anything incredibly new or noteworthy about our relationship besides the fact that I was, indeed, living at Wayne Manor. My criminal record had been deleted from all records, as a result of my agreement with Gordon and the late Harvey Dent, and my involvement with the Arkham Riots was never recorded and my fake attendance files at the asylum were destroyed. Only a hand full of policemen and criminals knew about my past. And my mother but she didn’t worry me. I wasn’t particularly concerned about reporters digging up my past. I just didn’t like the attention they were giving me. I hoped they would see my age and occupation as a large enough of a scandal to prevent them from going any deeper than that. I hoped the photographers would keep their distance.
The rain had started as I arrived at Wayne Manor. Bruce wasn’t there. It had been almost three days since I had last seen him. Alfred had seen him. He had made numerous visits to the ‘Bat Cave’ but I didn’t journey there. I didn’t even know where it was. This was a personal choice of mine. I figured the less I knew the saver we all would be. After changing clothes and declining Alfred’s offer of food, I sat down in front of the television. Normally, at my apartment, I would be lounging on the couch with a bag of chips and beer but Bruce’s furniture felt too delicate for that. Instead, I sat with my back straight, one foot strictly placed on the floor and the other leg crossed over the opposite. I was comfortable enough but it was still a bit foreign to me.
Mike Engel had moved to national news the previous year and had been replaced by a sour looking blonde in her mid-thirties. I was pretty sure she was GCN’s attempt to draw in younger viewers. Her yellow hair was hair sprayed and shaped so it didn’t move, much like the women’s facial expressions. My heart lost some its heaviness when they opened the show with the weather. If something horrible had occurred within the city, it would have surpassed the weather on the set list.
I stopped really listening as the sportscaster discussed the changes the Gotham Rogues’ were taking to prepare for next season. Another day had passed without mention of the Batman, which I supposed was a good thing. I was ready to take Alfred up on his food offer when the news lady spoke a name which brought my attention back to the television. “And even though he is not currently in the country, Bruce Wayne is back in the news. Prior to his trip to Asia, the billionaire entrepreneur and philanthropist had been seen in the company of a young woman named Victoria Bradley.” A picture flashed onto the screen. Going from the angle and my attire, I assumed it had been taken today by the photographer I seen across the street. I silently thanked them for picking a decent picture. “Well, as it turns out, Ms. Bradley, age 21, has not only moved into Wayne Manor on the east side of the city but she is also Mr. Wayne’s secretary.”
The news lady continued to give the viewers a brief biography of my life. She mentioned my father and the fact that I obtained my GED outside of high school. “Neither party has yet to comment on their relationship.” I resisted the urge to throw the remote through the television. Instead, I pushed myself off the couch and wondered angrily though the house in search of my laptop. I’ll give you a comment. I thought rudely as I entered the kitchen where Alfred was.
“I’m assuming you watched the news too.” He said while cutting a tomato.
As a show of defeat, I sat down at the island and placed my head against the cold granite. “What do I do, Alfred?” I asked after a minute.
“Well, you could send them an angry letter, like you were planning. But that would only encourage them.” Alfred said in his thin British accent. “Wayne Enterprises has plenty of PR personnel. Let them deal with it.”
“Do you ever worry about him?” I asked in pointless whisper without raising my head off the counter.
After a moment the butler answered. “Batman can take care of himself.” I awkwardly nodded my head in agreement. “Though I do worry about Master Wayne.”
Bruce leaned forward, causing me to look him in the face. His brown eyes began to scan my face, looking for something that probably wasn’t there. The only thing he found was sincerity and a number of tears. He raised a gloved hand to my face and lightly brushed an escaped tear from my cheek. “Marie, I…” He started before thinking better of it. My stomach twisted even more. Then a wave of determination swept over Bruce’s face.
He nearly knocked my backwards when he pushed his lips to mine. I was completely taken aback, probably just as Bruce was at my initial statement. I gladly took the kiss as an unspoken, “I love you too”, and so I returned his kiss.
***
I straightened the stack of papers before closing the file and locking it in my desk drawer. It had been a month since my heart to heart with Bruce Wayne, who was officially on a business trip to Asia. But Batman was now working day and night to recapture all the escaped inmates and to deal with the everyday crime. He also insisted that I stay at Wayne Manor until the city was safe. Or as safe as Gotham would ever be.
The heat wave had been replaced by numerous thunder and rainstorms. Though it wasn’t raining at the time when I exited Wayne Tower, the street and sidewalks were still covered in the evidence of recent rains. My hair was now cut to an extreme boyish length. Bruce’s hair was now longer than my own. I had also relapsed and decided to trade my natural red in for a dark auburn color. All physical evidence of my trip into Arkham Asylum was gone. I had not manage to pick up anymore scars to join the one engraved on my arm.
I buttoned my raincoat before walking towards the corner in search of a taxi. As I opened the door of one and prepared to save myself from the oncoming rain, I spotted a man across the street. I didn’t recognize him, but I knew what he was even before he brought the camera to his eye and furiously began to snap pictures. Since the excitement and public interest regarding the ‘Arkham Riots’ have waivered, some of less-than-respectable new sources had fallen back on their typical targets; the famous. That meant Bruce Wayne but more importantly Bruce Wayne’s love life which, at the current moment, involved me.
The tabloids had yet to find anything incredibly new or noteworthy about our relationship besides the fact that I was, indeed, living at Wayne Manor. My criminal record had been deleted from all records, as a result of my agreement with Gordon and the late Harvey Dent, and my involvement with the Arkham Riots was never recorded and my fake attendance files at the asylum were destroyed. Only a hand full of policemen and criminals knew about my past. And my mother but she didn’t worry me. I wasn’t particularly concerned about reporters digging up my past. I just didn’t like the attention they were giving me. I hoped they would see my age and occupation as a large enough of a scandal to prevent them from going any deeper than that. I hoped the photographers would keep their distance.
The rain had started as I arrived at Wayne Manor. Bruce wasn’t there. It had been almost three days since I had last seen him. Alfred had seen him. He had made numerous visits to the ‘Bat Cave’ but I didn’t journey there. I didn’t even know where it was. This was a personal choice of mine. I figured the less I knew the saver we all would be. After changing clothes and declining Alfred’s offer of food, I sat down in front of the television. Normally, at my apartment, I would be lounging on the couch with a bag of chips and beer but Bruce’s furniture felt too delicate for that. Instead, I sat with my back straight, one foot strictly placed on the floor and the other leg crossed over the opposite. I was comfortable enough but it was still a bit foreign to me.
Mike Engel had moved to national news the previous year and had been replaced by a sour looking blonde in her mid-thirties. I was pretty sure she was GCN’s attempt to draw in younger viewers. Her yellow hair was hair sprayed and shaped so it didn’t move, much like the women’s facial expressions. My heart lost some its heaviness when they opened the show with the weather. If something horrible had occurred within the city, it would have surpassed the weather on the set list.
I stopped really listening as the sportscaster discussed the changes the Gotham Rogues’ were taking to prepare for next season. Another day had passed without mention of the Batman, which I supposed was a good thing. I was ready to take Alfred up on his food offer when the news lady spoke a name which brought my attention back to the television. “And even though he is not currently in the country, Bruce Wayne is back in the news. Prior to his trip to Asia, the billionaire entrepreneur and philanthropist had been seen in the company of a young woman named Victoria Bradley.” A picture flashed onto the screen. Going from the angle and my attire, I assumed it had been taken today by the photographer I seen across the street. I silently thanked them for picking a decent picture. “Well, as it turns out, Ms. Bradley, age 21, has not only moved into Wayne Manor on the east side of the city but she is also Mr. Wayne’s secretary.”
The news lady continued to give the viewers a brief biography of my life. She mentioned my father and the fact that I obtained my GED outside of high school. “Neither party has yet to comment on their relationship.” I resisted the urge to throw the remote through the television. Instead, I pushed myself off the couch and wondered angrily though the house in search of my laptop. I’ll give you a comment. I thought rudely as I entered the kitchen where Alfred was.
“I’m assuming you watched the news too.” He said while cutting a tomato.
As a show of defeat, I sat down at the island and placed my head against the cold granite. “What do I do, Alfred?” I asked after a minute.
“Well, you could send them an angry letter, like you were planning. But that would only encourage them.” Alfred said in his thin British accent. “Wayne Enterprises has plenty of PR personnel. Let them deal with it.”
“Do you ever worry about him?” I asked in pointless whisper without raising my head off the counter.
After a moment the butler answered. “Batman can take care of himself.” I awkwardly nodded my head in agreement. “Though I do worry about Master Wayne.”