Phobia.

“Anything?” I scoffed, rolling my eyes as I clambered into his new unmarked car.

“Not a word, nothing... I tried fucking everything.” I closed my eyes, huffing as I leant back against the head rest, my talk with Jonathon physically draining.

I could feel his frown.

“He didn’t even flinch at the word Bane, he didn’t even react he just..” I leant forward, flinging my hands around as I spoke angrily, “And he just... eurgh he’s such an arrogant, just...” He watched me silently, an almost amused smile on his face. “And stop fucking grinning at me.” I complained, hitting my head back again, wincing at the pain stabbing through my skull at the movement.

“It sucks, but we know we aren’t going to get anything. We know it’s not worth pursuing now. We...”

He was cut off as I turned my anger into something else, moving forward and slamming my lips against him, stopping his excuses at my failure, his attempt to make me feel better, to try and validate leads that were nothing. He reacted back quickly, not seeming thrown off by my sudden act, behaviour.

I suppose, after all, he had kissed me.
He pulled away slowly, trailing a hand down my cheek, tangling with a curl. “You do that to shut me up or because you wanted too?”

“Both.” I breathed, scanning over his face. His smirk grew and he let me go, eyes hard on me as I moved back to my seat, pulling the seatbelt over me.

“You know you are a complete mindfuck right?”

“You’re not much better,” I countered, my heart still pounding against my chest, my body practically vibrating with adrenaline. Not much but the now moving vehicle, the chance of crashing, stopping me from straddling him and continuing the kiss.

“What are we going to do?” I finally asked a few minutes later, the car cruising on the underpass.

“Well, we can look more at Daggett, ring Gordon and...”

“That’s nothing useful...or at least, nothing that will help much unless more happens.”

“Well, if you have any better ideas....” His voice grew a hard edge and I sighed. “Not like we can just wait for something to happen.”

“That’s exactly what we should do,” I realised suddenly, “Unless something happens, either with Bane, Bruce, Gordon... I am not just sitting in your apartment waiting for it.”

“You want to go and find something?” He lifted a brow, “Have we not worked out yet that that doesn’t end well for you?”

“But at least we may find stuff out. I have before, you ask the right people and stuff comes out. This is how I found out about the compound, this may be how we find out more about Bane.” I could tell he was thinking, running the thoughts around in his head, the pro’s and cons.

“And I suppose that means some seedy club with a bunch of crack-heads.”

“Sometimes,” I felt the hairs on my neck stand-up, both from irritation and lust at the way he instantly grew defensive...of me.

“I don’t think I’m comfortable with that.” I sighed, keeping my eyes out of the window.

“You need to ask around to find stuff out, people don’t just go to the police, you know that. You want to learn about crime, you have to talk to criminals.”

“And put yourself at risk?”

“Or let myself sit doing nothing all day whilst you do? And we’d have a better chance of actually finding something out Blake. If I just go to a couple of places, ask about the compound, ask about the ‘work in the sewer’ or whatever, something will come out.”

He shot me another look and I felt like I was faltering under his gaze, “And I really need a drink after that.” I gestured behind us, Blackgate.

“You honestly think it will work?” I nodded, and I heard him exhale deeply. “One club, I’m going, we ask around about Bane, subtly.”

“I’m a detective now,” I taunted, crossing my legs and turning to him, eager to lighten the mood, “Undercover even.” He snorted, the car slowing as we met a red light.

“Okay...I’m trusting you with this.”

“Good,” I practically purred once again, happy he was listening to me, that I had over ruled him for once in our short relationship.

Relationship was the wrong word, even with the few kisses we had shared, a part of me still feared he was simply doing it to appease Gordon, to just keep the crazy girl out of trouble.

I pushed that part down.

“I’m hungry.” The sun was high, pale streaks of light not adding much warmth down the busy streets, the sky scrapers causing harsh shadows that coated the pavements.

“Bruce said something to me.” He said randomly, taking an unexpected turn down a smaller road. “He said that Batman was a symbol, that he wore the mask to protect people he cared about.”

“I never thought Bruce Wayne had anyone to protect.”

“You could say the same for us.” I furrowed my brows,

“So you want us to wear masks?” I said, keeping a tease in my words so as not to anger him...just in case.

“You used to wear wigs.”

“And when we go out later I intend to wear another one.”

“Whose that to protect?”

“Mainly myself. I’ve never had much in the way of friends.” The car stopped, pulling into a sidewalk parking spot.

“And now?” I let my eyes scan over his face, it was sincere but with a hint of humour, his words confusing me, conflicting me.

“You’re the detective, you figure it out.” I shot his familiar smirk back at him before unclipping my belt and leaving the car, taking a couple of steps, him reaching me quickly.

He looked uncomfortable,
“Considering we’re going undercover you need to learn to act relaxed.” I stopped, looking him dead in the eyes, “The more out of place you look the more people are going to notice.”

“You haven’t forgotten that people burnt your flat down right?”

“No, but I know those kind of people won’t be downtown, will they now?” He accepted my word, speeding up to walk next to me. “I’m going to assume we’re going to buy you a wig.” I shot him a look, pushing into a place I found hard, uncomfortable – flirtation.

“Unless you want a nice sexy one too.”
____________________________________

The flirtation continued in the wig shop, one I was unfortunately a regular in. But then again, somewhere I doubted anyone would look for me. We had joked, laughed.

The little voice in the back of my head that said he just pitied me was pushed down by a much stronger emotion, my lust for him, want for him. Several times I had to bite my lip, to avoid looking at him, although he seemed to have his eyes glued on me every time I glanced at him.

“Shit.” I realised suddenly, two chosen wigs in hand, his eyes were on me, “Money...I still don’t have any and...”

“I got it. We’ll put it on your tab,” He teased, although as with every time the subject of money came up I felt a pit in my stomach. He couldn’t afford this, me. I was sponging.

Because he just felt sorry for you, you head case

I cleared my throat loudly to force the voice away. Offering him a small smile as he handed me the bag, us making the way to his car and back to the apartment swiftly.
“Hungry?” He called, entering in front of me, “I’ll cook.”

“No.” I cut in quickly, suddenly feeling uneasy, the constant negativity in my head landing, some of it sticking, “I’ll cook, it’s fine... I just need too...”

“You think I’ll poison you or something?” I quickly shook my head, but swallowed, his gentle face suddenly looking hurt.

I had taken a massive step forward with him.
But I was taking another one back.

“Sorry, I just...” His head tilted.

“What’s wrong, you’ve been okay lately and...”

“Nothing.” I snapped, feeling irritation hit me instantly, only becoming more so as I grew angry at myself.

“No way,” He said, his voice deepening, “You are not going all weird again Keira.”

“I’m not.” I whined, brushing past him, trying to find room in my head between the voice telling me I was stupid, unwanted, and the other telling me to stop pushing him, not to argue.

“You are, and there is no reason, you were making such progress with me. Look sit down and...”

“I don’t want to sit down, I don’t want to do anything...I...” I stopped suddenly, leaning against the breakfast bar, “I don’t want to be so fucking...fucked up anymore.” His arms were around me quickly, my forehead resting on his shoulder. My voice had ended high, hysterical.

Like the mad woman I was.

“I knew this was going to happen.” He muttered, hands rubbing my shoulder blades, “I knew seeing him would upset you.”

“I’m sorry.” I murmured, trying to stop the tears rolling heavily down my cheeks. “I’m such a mess and it’s not fair on you.”

“It’s far less fair on you...don’t see him anymore.” I pulled away, rubbing under my eyes and shooting him a questioning look, “You’ve seen him twice since I’ve known you and both times have made you had a shit day like...”

“Mental wise,” I hiccuped, “You shouldn’t have to deal with this.” My voice was honest, my mind clearer, ringing with the words.

He shouldn’t.
I was fucking up his life.

“I want to deal with it.” His was just as sincere, the intensity in his eyes making me blush. “However mental you are.” I sniffled.

“Even on bad days?”

“Well...if you don’t see him I think you’ll have a lot less of them, and we can work on it okay?” His right hand moved to my chin, he held my eye-line until I nodded, a part of me already against his words.

It was the constant inner conflict that was the worst.
At least now that we...or rather he had decided that I should no longer see Jonathon, I was hoping that would help.

“I still think you’re too nice.” I said, rubbing my stinging face, but offering him a small smile.

“That a bad thing?” I shook my head, “Good, I’m cooking, go sit down, and please turn the god damn news off, no detective stuff till later.”
__________________________________________________

I leant back against the wall, the couple of strong drinks in my blood making me giddy. That, and the adrenaline from our run from the club. We had gone out eventually, no more said about my moment, Jonathon, the kiss.

We had gone to a club I knew, Blake’s eyes still darting nervously no matter how many times I told him to relax. They narrowed when I had to flirt, to stand too close, to touch someones arm to ask about drugs, to hint at the compound.

More than a few looked uncomfortable when I brought it up, said they didn’t sell it.
But one knew someone who did, and gave me a name and a number.

Progress.

That was until someone pushed too far, and Blake got mad, resulting in a hard punch to the face, and us running from the club with threats chasing after us. “That was stupid.” I panted, hitting at his arm, his hand, as with how had happened close to a week ago landed over my mouth pulling me back to him as the angry voices grew closer. Him gently pulling me further into the dark shadows of the alleyway as the man stalked past.

He shushed me, causing me to giggle, feeling warm at his touch. The larger man vanished from view and Blake let me go, spinning me around to face him. “You shouldn’t have punched him.”

“He shouldn’t have grabbed your arse.” I rolled my eyes, “And don’t even start, you didn’t get anything good from him.” I smirked at him.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy being ‘undercover’” I teased, slipping slightly on a wet cobble.

“You’re drunk.” I shook my head, but changed my mind halfway through and nodding. “You didn’t even drink much.” He pondered, shaking his head as I opened my large clutch to reveal the bottle of vodka.

“That you saw.” He chuckled, shaking his head again, going to brush past me when I grabbed his arm and connected my lips to his again.

He pulled away, “Keira.” But I went in again, the alcohol making it seem like a great idea, pushing the reprimanding voice away, pushing my fear of intimacy away.
Hence why I had always drunk so much.

It made me feel normal.

This time he didn’t reject me, if anything pulling me closer, the kissing growing heavy, him taking the clutch from my hand and crouching, drop it on the floor as he spun me, pressing me against the cool wall. “If you want me to stop...” He murmured against my lips, stopping as my hand travelled down his t-shirt, that clung to his chest and arms, finding his belt buckle easily.

I felt him shudder under my touch, my fingers fumbling unsuccessfully with the buckle, whining as I eventually got it undone, quickly slipping my hand into his jeans, his gasp against my mouth making me desperate to feel him, to feel all of him.

And he felt the same.