Phobia.

“I need to go...” he said quietly and I nodded, sucking on my lower lip slightly. Both of us standing awkwardly facing each other, the height inherited from my family left us able to look directly into each others’ eyes, me probably standing only an inch shorter than him.

“Have a er...” I pursed and popped my lips slightly, part of me wanting to grab him, the other to rub him from my lips.
The split constantly fighting within me wore me out.

“I’ll have a look at the maps then.” My voice sounded alien, weak. He nodded this time, “I’ll see you later then...good luck with Wayne.” I offered out and he awkwardly patted me before turning and quickly leaving the room, the door shutting with a gentle click behind him.

If anything I was more panicked once he had gone. My breathing louder, but erratic, too fast, making me dizzy. I swore at myself, chanting the same insults until I calmed, my breathing regulated, although now it felt unnatural, forced. My mind counting between each one.

Eventually I stood straight, feeling a lot less anxious.
But no less confused.
Did Blake have the same ache for me I did for him.
But that was unlikely, unfeasible.

He wasn’t insane, wasn’t stupid. And wasn’t likely to settle with someone who had.
I wanted to obsess, to think of nothing else, to look over every moment we had spent together, for any sign, any hint of it.

But there wasn’t time, this wasn’t about me like I made everything else. This needed to be done, to help Blake, to help Gordon, to help Bruce.

I sighed, moving to grab the large file of sewer maps, names of companies scrawled both in pen and printed. I then sat on the desk, staring at the maps blankly, barely able to understand it, Blake’s attempt to help, by scribbling on places that were recognisable helped slightly but not enough.

After an hour I yawned, turning the TV on, scanning the news, who spoke of Batman’s return, the attack on the stock exchange, a small section about Wayne enterprise going broke.
How was no one else seeing it was linked?

Pushing the maps away I glanced back down, looking at the companies that ran certain sectors, or who supplied the concrete, metal.

There were several names that appeared often, although a couple were spread widely across many areas. I frowned, highlighting the names and moving to grab his laptop, smirking slightly at the background image, it was old, clearly of him and his parents when he was a toddler. A very sweet one at that.
I bit my lip, clicking the internet on and googling the two names.

John Daggett.
Lex Luther.

“Stupid name,” I muttered at the second one, finally nothing linking him to Gotham apart from the sewer production, all his workforce operated in Metropolis.

John Daggett however was a very different matter. The first link told me of his construction company, Daggett industries. The second informing that he was a member of the board of Wayne enterprises.

I checked more links, adding Wayne to the search box and all confirmed that as fact, I clicked my tongue, Blake’s home-phone in my hand before I knew it, his mobile number saved.

Daggett.
I waited, wasting another hour scanning through the maps, the tunnel files, googling more minor names.
Nothing as powerful or as linked as Daggett.

I added to the mass of post-it notes, scribbling facts about Daggett found on the internet, his power at Wayne enterprises.
“Hey.” His voice was back to normal, deep but smooth, hard but not scornful, “I dropped Wayne off in Old-town, gave him the cash. I’m on the way to a...”

“Daggett.” I cut in, “John Daggett. Daggett Industries, involed with the construction, maintenance. A large share holder at Wayne industries, had made shitty comments about Bruce in the press.”

“Daggett....” I could feel his frown, “Wait a sec.” He fiddled with the police radio, static forcing me to move the phone from my ear, just able to make out him asking the name of the victim, the case he was no doubt being called too.

“John Daggett is dead. They just found his body in a dumpster.”

“Fuck, so he was definitely involved.” I rubbed a hand over my face, “We need to tell Gordon.”

“I’ll get out of this and head back, we’ll go to Gordon.”

“He’s under police guard I won’t be able too..”

“It’s fine, just...dress smart.”

I wiped some of the foundation I had stored in my bag over my face, old mascara that needed to be thrown out, and some eyeliner that was drying.

“Really should of gotten make-up the other day,” I muttered, running Blake’s brush through my hair, the knots catching slightly.
The door opened quickly and Blake reappeared, “Sorry,” I murmured, feeling my face flush as I quickly pulled the dress over my body, no longer leaving me exposed.

I had set it up, spending far too long focusing on my hair and make-up, wanting to test his reaction. The way his face was tinted pink, purposely avoiding my gaze was enough to make me sure he was insane.

Because, whether it was lust or actual feelings, he wanted me.
I felt between my legs burn, tingle. But he cleared his throat and was straight back to business, moving to look through the paperwork, the post-it notes and highlights, the scrawling. “Is this alright?” I drew his attention selfishly back to me, relishing under his elongated gaze.

“Fine,” He said hoarsely, grabbing the folder, “Lets go now, they should let us through if not...” He went and riffled through his bedroom cabinet, pulling out an old police badge.

“So long as they don’t look at the name on the back you’re fine, slip it in your purse.” I did as he said, once again thankful that I had had my bag on me during the attack on my apartment.
_______________________________________________

We rushed down the hallways, Blake stopping at the main reception, his uniform making his situation clear, the woman quickly saying which ward Gordon was on. We continued to dash, peeking in every open door until he spotted one with two police officers standing close by. “This one,” he sent me a meaningful look and he slowed slightly, me following closely behind him.

Blake was waved through quickly, murmuring to the officers who stepped out of our way, stepping back into position shortly after we entered the room. Not being able to fight my relieved breath to see Gordon sitting upright. He was pale and a bit disheveled but in a much better than I had imagined from how he had been after the attack.

He looked upon us with a slight smirk, “Can we help you two...officers?” Foley snapped in, frowning. I glanced at Blake, letting him do the talking, explaining about Daggett, how it linked to the sewers.

Now it was Foley’s turn to look uncomfortable, as the commissioner almost scolded him over the lack of police happenings, the lack of looking into the sewer. He sent me a look and I wordlessly handed the pile of papers to Gordon, who began to look through him, smirking as he found my message.
‘Ditch Foley ASAP. We need to talk.’

They continued to talk, Foley growing angrier, as I grew happier, having to hide my laugh at his face with a cough as Gordon declared that Blake was to be a ‘detective’ a large step up both in responsibility and salary.
“Guess you can lose the uniform now Blake.” I said, trying to sound professional, even though Foley had barely paid me any attention.

“It could just be coincidence,” He said awkwardly, and i aimed a swift kick at his ankle. Knowing he was well aware of the truth of what we had discovered.
we

“You’re a detective now son,” Gordon chimed, “You’re not allowed to believe in coincidence anymore.”
Eventually Foley left the room, and the odd atmosphere dropped. Me finally letting out the relieved sigh I had wanted to since seeing him. “Thank God you’re okay.”

“Thank detective Blake more like.” He teased, pushing his glasses further up his nose and opening the files. They talked through it swiftly, flicking through the pages before Gordon turned to me.

“I’ve made some calls, and pulled some strings I’d rather not pull, but if you want you have a hour with Crane tomorrow.” I pursed my lips, “If he had connections, and was indeed behind the arson of your flat and the murder of that girl... We need answers.”

“You know he doesn’t give me answers Gordon.” I said stiffly, resting my hand on my chin, now seated on the chair next to his bed.

“Anything you can get is helpful...” he fidgeted with a case under his bed, pulling out a wallet and handing it to me, causing me to snort as I saw the false police name, code.

“Oh, I’m a detective too then.” I half joked, my stomach still churning at the thought of having to see him again, so soon. “I’ll push him, see if he says anything.”

“The camera’s will be off whilst you’re there and the guard will leave the room. Push him, mention Bane, Batman...”

“I’ll try whatever I can.” The promise was evident in my voice, although my body was filled with doubt.

Blake met my eyes, “I’ll take you. I’ll keep on the sewers.” Gordon nodded.

“And I’ll push Foley as much as I can, though I can’t wait to get out of this damn bed.” I scoffed.

“Don’t push it, just do what the doctors say Jim.” He lifted a brow, chuckling slightly.

“Whatever you’re doing son, you’re having a positive influence.” I pulled a face at him, rolling my eyes but freezing as Blake’s eyes met mine and I felt a shiver hit down my spine.

A doctor came in suddenly and we were shooed out. Gordon having scrawled his hidden mobiles number on a sheet, handing them to Blake along with the majority of the files.

“Keep on it, and keep in touch detectives.” I could practically see the pride swell within Blake at that word, detective.

“Nice one, detective Blake.” I practically purred, once we were out of the others officers hearing range.

He grinned at me, “I’ll have to go down to the station later and hand in my uniform.”

“Do you get a coat? Sherlock Holmes style.” He snorted, and I pushed harder to create a friendly atmosphere, to avoid the tension from this morning.

I also still wanted his attention, craved it.
I wanted him.
In a ridiculous, impossible way.
__________________________________

As always I was at his while he was out, getting a new uniform, a new cop car of his own. Letting his partner know, whom I had since discovered was actually the officer that I had first met, after the druggie had attacked me.

I was stalling, spending ages picking out an outfit for tomorrow. I always wanted to look... I didn’t know, professional? Like I had made something of my life and was well off, not just the shadow unattached to a real person, the person he had never let me be.
But I was getting better, Blake had said, Gordon had said.

Perhaps better was a strong word, I was more comfortable with them, Blake especially.
I still flinched when I brushed past strangers, still felt randomly so angry I felt the world turn red. I was still afraid of people, the dark, fire...him.

And most of all I was scared of myself.

He arrived back not long after nine, his uniform off, a suit on and another two folded in a bag. “Nice briefcase,” I teased, half asleep on the bed. He moved around me, hanging up his things and dropping the case on the sofa.

“Gordon rang me, your thing at Blackgate is at ten, still want me to take you.”

“If you want.” I murmured, moving my head under my arm and shuffling slightly.
Again I hoped he would suddenly lose his mind and join me, wrap his arms around me, remove my clothing.

Make me his.

Instead I spent the night alone, his slight snoring echoing from the sofa.
In a stupid way it really hurt my feelings.
__________________________________________

“How lovely of you to come and see me so often lately, why is that exactly?”

“Maybe I just miss you.” I was trying to remain confident, my voice even, calm.
I was trying to keep a segment of the power in my hands.
Trying.
He tilted his head to one side, his unkept hair giving him a puppy dog look.

“Problems at home?” He said with false concern, the same voice and expression he used on his earlier patients, to gather their trust.

“I’m not staying there at the moment.” I said breezily, not wanting to play straight into his hands.

“How come the guard left?” He asked again, making me look behind myself.

“Maybe he went to the bathroom.” He scoffed.

“I haven’t had a day in the last eight years where there hasn’t been someone watching me...and now I get the impression that is finally the case.”

“Because I want to talk to you,” he indicated for me to continue, “About Bane.” He didn’t react to the name, he was too clever for that, instead, if anything he looked at me questioningly, his mouth pursed, his brow furrowed.

“Or we could talk about Batman, I’m sure you are well aware he’s come back.”

“Interesting time to.”

“It is isn’t it, not that, being locked up here, you wouldn’t know any of that would you?”

He smiled slightly, “Are you trying to use reverse psychology on me Keira? Even you can’t surely be that unintelligent?”

“Maybe not.” I sat back, scanning him with my eyes, trying to work out how to approach this, how to receive anything useful from him.

In the end I went for honesty.
“The girl that you, well not you, but whoever you have on the outside, she was my friend. Her name was Anna and she was twenty five years old.”

He lifted one brow, “Lots of people die young, unfairly.”

“If they took you out of solitary, let you walk around with the other prisoners, do you think they would kill you?” I cut him off, and he smirked slightly at me.

“Is that a threat?”

“Not particularly, but I think you underestimate exactly how much power I hold right now.” I lied, satisfied by the way he moved back to move in his seat that he was intrigued.
I knew him a little better than he thought as well.

“And we know where Bane is. We know about the stock exchange, we know about Daggett. We know everything Jonathon.” He licked his lower lip slowly.

“Everything? Not even I would claim that.”

“Considering they’re moving in a lot of men the Commissioner trusts you’re going to remain in the dark for a long time.”

He glanced behind me, he was uncomfortable, I was making a point, getting to him, normally he would end it here...but he couldn’t.
“No-one is coming unless I tell them too.”

“Well, you certainly seem to have gone up in the world, and as we both know, the only route to power is through fear. So what exactly have you been up to?”

“I’m a detective now,” I said, leaning back, “Not literally, not legally, but I get a badge, wanna look?” He snorted, playing along and holding his handcuffed hand towards me as much as possible, accepting the wallet and pulling it back.

“Louisa Gordon...you don’t look like a Louisa.”

“You don’t look like a psychopath, but that’s what the psychiatrist here claims.”

“I’m very good at playing people, you should know.”

“Well maybe I’ve picked up a few hints.”