A Serious House on Serious Earth

I awoke in the middle of the afternoon. Even though I didn’t do much sleeping, it was nice to wake up to a cool environment. As usual, Bruce has slipped out of the bed in the middle of the night, probably the moment I fell asleep. I pressed my face into the large pillow, not wanting to leave the oversized, comfortable bed. After a few minutes of trying to force myself back into sleep, I finally decided to get up. I didn’t bother putting clothes on as I went directly to the bathroom and turned the shower on. I removed the make-up which I had neglected to wash away the night before.

Instead of putting my dress on, which was thrown carelessly on the floor, I donned a pair Bruce’s black sweatpants and a simple white tee-shirt; my usual morning-after attire. I had to tie the drawstring on the pants to keep them from falling off. There were also too-long and I walked on the end of the pant legs. Before going in search of breakfast, I straightened the room up. I picked the clothes off the floor and made the bed. I didn’t want my random overnight stays to cause Alfred more work.

My affair, if that’s what you would call it, with Bruce Wayne started about a year ago. It basically consisted of casual sex a few nights a month and nothing more. Neither of us was looking for a romantic relationship. We were effectively using each other. Alfred was the only person who knew, though I had a sneaking suspicion that Lucius Fox knew too. I was slightly shocked and a little unnerved when the twist appeared in our relationship; I never saw myself as a person who mixed ‘business with pleasure’ so to speak. But then I realized that I wasn’t sleeping with Bruce just because he was my boss. I trusted the man. He was a good friend. Plus, the fact that I was physically attracted to him didn’t hurt either.

As I was walking through the halls to the kitchen, my cellphone rang. I dug the small phone out of the pocket and answered it without looking of the number. “Hello.” I said as I walked into the kitchen. Bruce was sitting at the oversized island, eating a bowl of cereal as Alfred put away groceries. I recognized the voice that emitted from the receiver.

“Hi, Marie. It’s Gordon.” Bruce Wayne and Jim Gordon were the only two people I could ever considered to be my friends. Though, Gordon was more like a father to me. Back when I was on the wrong side of the law, I knew Gordon had to jump through hoops to keep me out of jail. However, some cynics probably believed that he was enabling my bad behavior, which was slightly true.

“Oh. Hi, Jim.” We made small talk for a few minutes as I took a seat next to Bruce and poured myself a bowl of cereal. I asked about his kids and he asked me about my job. He didn’t seem too adamant to address the reason for why he had called me.

“Marie, I was wondering if you could come down sometime today.” He seemed unsure of his request.

“Down where? The MCU?” I asked, stirring my cereal with the spoon. I looked at Bruce, who seemed much too concerned with his breakfast. I knew he was eavesdropping but he was trying desperately not to appear so. Normally, when I had a phone call, he would start using a mixture of sign language and miming so we could carry on a separate conversation. The second conversation usually ended with me getting irritated and leaving the room.

“Yea. We need to talk to you.” We? I thought to myself.
Two minutes later, I was pushing the phone back into my pocket and starting on my breakfast. A weird silence filled the kitchen as Bruce and I finished our meal. “Jim Gordon wants to talk to me.” I said, twirling my spoon around in the leftover milk.

“About what?” Bruce asked nonchalantly. He got up and carried his bowl over to the sink before returning to this seat.

“I don’t know.” It was barely a whisper. By that time, my eyes had fallen to the scar on my arm. It was such a harmless word. It has so many positive notions around it. But when the word was etched into my skin and with the artist behind it, I couldn’t help but feel that smiling was a sign of defeat. As if it symbolized the destruction of my sanity. Or what was left of it.



Under much distress, I asked Bruce to take me home. I used my impending meeting with Gordon as an excuse. My apartment was still sweltering and I regretted borrowing Bruce’s sweatpants. Slightly pressed for time, I quickly opened the window and changed out of the borrowed clothes. Unfortunately, the majority of my wardrobe was in need of washing, so I had to settle on a pair of jeans and a thin tank top. I emptied all the essential objects into my pockets and left my purse on the counter.

I took the train to the other side of the city to the Major Crimes Unit of the Gotham Police Department. As usual, the MCU was a chaotic mess. I recognized a few cops and detectives but they were some new people. I ignored the commotion and walked straight to Gordon’s office and knocked on the door. Gordon had aged a little in the past three years, mainly his hair had grown grayer. We greeted each other and Gordon shut the door behind me.

“What is –?” I stopped mid-sentence when I saw who else was in Gordon’s office. The Batman stood in the corner, out of the direct view of the door. “What did I do?” I asked, looking from the Batman to Gordon and back.

“You didn’t do anything, Marie.” Gordon said, leaning against a bookshelf in the opposite. Apparently it wasn’t appropriate to sit down in this situation. “We have something to ask you.” Gordon then went on to talk about Arkham Asylum and the large amount of escapes which had occurred recently. He continued on how they had investigated the building and staff and found nothing.

“So, Arkham has a security issue. What does that have to do with?” I asked getting slightly annoyed. I hadn’t moved from my position by the door and I was prepared to leave if the conversation went somewhere I didn’t want to go.

Gordon and Batman exchanged a look before Gordon continued. “We need someone on the inside. Someone who could figure out how the inmates are escaping. We need your help, Marie.” I quickly turned around and grasped the door handle, prepared to storm angrily from the Commissioner’s office. However, the Batman, who had is hand pressed against the door, prevented me from opening it. I gave him a dirty look before turning back to Gordon.

“Do you remember what happened last time you asked for my help? I. Nearly. Died.” I said though clenched teeth. I didn’t understand how or why Gordon would ask me something like this. “Why don’t you send in one of your people?”

“Because you’ve already been there. You know what to expect.” Gordon said as if it was obvious.

“No. I’ve been physically and mentally abused by an insane clown. I’ve never been locked up with an entire asylum.” One insane person was bad enough but a hundred of them were beyond my stress level.

“You won’t be in any direct danger. The asylum has plenty of security.” Gordon said trying to ease my worries. It didn’t work.

“I thought this was about your security problem?” I said sarcastically.

“I promise, Marie.” Gordon took two steps closer to the Batman and me.

“Yea? I believe you made the same promise to me three years ago and we all know how effective that was.” I didn’t want to cause Gordon any aguish but there was no way the Commissioner could protect when he wasn’t around.

“I promise.” Batman said in his low, rough voice. Gordon and I turned our attention to him as Batman removed his hand from the door.

“This was your idea, wasn’t it?” I said, poking the Batman in the chest accusingly. I turned the handle and opened the door a few inches. I gave Gordon one last look. “Someone better call Bruce Wayne and explain to him why he won’t have a secretary for a while.” I said before I darted out the door.