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Elision | Part 1

Arriving at Wayne Manor after a long night, Alfred brings something strange to Bruce’s attention: an invitation, a message, for the almighty Batman.

Bruce Wayne/Batman x Elision (Oc)

Words: 2,100~

Alfred patiently waited beside the hydraulics turntable for the two permanent residents to return from their night patrol together as father and son. As the months passed, they slowly began to get along better than they did at their first meeting. Master Damian became slightly easier to deal with, though his manners and brash social skills still needed work, as he told master Bruce repeatedly. Looking down at his watch, he hummed idly, hearing the mechanical sound of the ramp door opening, accompanied by the revving of the batmobile’s engine.

As the sleek car stopped, Alfred circled the front of the car, watching as the red-tinted dome slid open to allow both passengers to exit the vehicle. Pulling off his hood, Bruce turned his attention to the butler.

“Alfred.”

“Master Bruce, something requires your attention on your computer.” He gestured a hand towards the desk and chair sitting and awaiting his return. Alfred trailed behind Bruce as he strode towards the massive display mounted on the wall.

“I discovered it earlier while you two were out.”

Damian already stood opposite him and Alfred, waiting for Bruce to read before inserting his opinion.

His brows furrowed as he shifted his gaze up to the screen. Across the entire monitor lay a pop-up window with simple text and an attachment at the bottom.

“Hello, Batman. You don’t know me, but I know you, Mr. Wayne. I offer no threat to you or your secret identity, but the mere knowledge of me knowing your name makes this message compelling, doesn’t it? When we meet, I have a proposal to offer you. I hope you can dance. -E”

“This message is encrypted?” Bruce turned to glance at Alfred, who nodded.

“Yes. Not a single trail to follow back to. Brilliant if I say so myself.”

The man hummed, reading over the words again as he sat down, opening the attachment “E” included.

“An invitation?” Confusion contorted Damian’s tone, his mind stalling at the idea.

“To a masquerade ball,” Bruce explained.

“It could be a trap.” Damian gestured to the letter, looking at his father, who still stared at the words, “You aren’t possibly thinking about going, are you? They could expose you, father.”

“If they wanted to expose me, they would have done it already. I have many enemies, Damian, but I don’t think this person is one of them.” Copying the message and putting it into a new file labeled simply “E,” he closed the window and stood up, turning back toward Alfred.

“What will you do, Master Bruce?”

“Have my Italian suit cleaned and pressed by Friday,” He chuckled and smiled, “I have a ball to attend.”

4 Days later | Saturday, 6:26pm

Placing a hand over his stomach, Bruce ducked his head down as he slid out of the limousine. The door closed behind him with a low thud as he strode toward the mansion’s entrance, braving the stairs to the gilded doors. The sound of bustling conversation emanated from inside, leaking out and into the brisk night air. His fingertips grazed the matte black mask he chose for the evening that shielded the right half of his face, leaving the left side of his jaw exposed.

Giving his name at the door, they let him through without a hitch. The wide, rounded steps from the door led to the marble-floored foyer, a red carpet cut across the white floor like a trail of blood leading his eyes to the winding dual staircases. Accepting the glass pushed into his hand, it took him longer than expected to feel the slip of paper in his palm.

Taking a drink from the glass, he opened the paper, “Ten ‘o clock. -E” he turned his head to the left, sweeping his eyes across the open floor, picking through the people grouped together. His eyes flicked upward, and he noticed a figure turn to walk away from the balcony railing, disappearing out of his line of sight.

Shoving the slip into his pocket and placing the champagne glass onto one of the passing trays, he gracefully made his way past the guests and toward the staircase, raising a hand and laughing to avoid useless conversation. Ascending the granite staircase, his hand slid across the railing while his eyes scanned the area to his left. The main populace consisted of men and women whispering to one another, gossiping, and flirting their way into one another's expansive wallets. Roaming the halls, he looked for someone he didn’t even have the name of, making this all stranger.

“Bruce Wayne?”

He perked up, revitalizing his mask of Bruce Wayne as a man approached him, wearing a simple black mask that rested over his nose.

“How could you tell?” He smiled, sticking out his right hand for the man to take.

“It’s not difficult to pick you out from a crowd, I’m a massive fan of your work, and I heard you would be here.” The man beamed at him, eyes shining with excitement and curiosity as they shook hands firmly. He smiled in return, though part of his mind groaned. Was this E? The mystery person who bypassed his firewalls to leave a message was a fanboy who wanted to spew about his fixation over his company? No. Someone like this couldn’t pull that off. The conversation droned on all the while Bruce gave half-hearted responses to the poor man, nodding and laughing at the appropriate times as their social standards dictate.

“Gentlemen, apologies. I was hoping to whisk this one away if that’s alright with you?” A voice came from their right: a woman in a black mask approached them. Her orange hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, and her lips colored a poppy red. While most women at the ball tonight wore red or gold, she dawned a simple black, single off-the-shoulder dress with a high slit. Bruce turned toward the woman fully as her hand slipped into his, silently beckoning him to follow. Bruce didn’t even remember the man’s name as he stuttered along the lines of “yes, of course, nice to meet you.”

Pulling him down another hallway, the woman let go of his hand, allowing him to walk beside her. Observing the woman, he noticed how quickly the innocent, charming act melted away. It made a chill run down his spine, and he wondered if this was the same sensation people experienced around him.

“You’re E?” He questioned lowly, looking down at the woman beside him as they walked. Disbelief slipped further into his voice than he meant, the woman rendering him unable to school his tone.

“I am. Why? Surprised a woman pulled all that off?” She grinned up at him. The stunned look plastered on his face made her laugh, “I’m joking,” She assured, “let’s talk somewhere quiet. Too many eyes.” “And ears.” He mumbled under his breath.

“Exactly.”

Navigating the mansion seemed like child’s play to the woman, turning corners without hesitation.

“You seem to know the place well.” He noted, taking long strides to keep up with the swift lady.

She chuckled, “Blueprints.” flashing a toothy grin over her shoulder at the man. She disappeared behind another corner, and Bruce followed her into an open floor kitchen with two elevators tucked into the wall: Staff elevators. She stood back from the doors with her arms crossed, the button with the arrow pointing up already glowing.

The sound of footsteps disturbed their silence, alerting them both to the notion that they weren’t alone. The woman’s eyes shined with an idea, grabbing the man’s arm.

“Kiss me.”

“What?” Surprise lit up the features not hidden behind his mask.

Without giving him the time to react, she pulled him in by his silk tie, their lips crashing together forcefully. He let out a startled groan into the kiss, lifting the woman up and onto the kitchen island as he recognized her plan. He hooked a hand under her knee, lifting her leg against his flank while placing the other against her hip. Her hands raised to his hair, messing with it quickly before resting her arms around his neck loosely, one of her hands still tangled in his hair.

“Hey!”

The woman gasped in feigned surprise, breaking the kiss and staring wide-eyed at the staff member who supposedly caught them in the act.

“You two can’t be back here.”

A cheeky, lipstick-stained grin appeared on Bruce’s face, letting out a charming chuckle, “We’re sorry, got a bit carried away, is all.” The woman giggled along, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

The worker cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable witnessing the scene before him. He waved a hand dismissively.

“It’s fine, just…don’t wander off, please.” The employee quickly sped off, flustered. They stood still for a few moments longer, making sure they were alone again before getting up.

The woman reached up, swiping her thumb across his lip with an amused chuckle, “That shade looks better on you than me.”

“Maybe I’ll pick it up once we’re done here.” He dragged the back of his hand against his lips while he stepped back, letting her off the countertop. She snickered as she watched him fix his hair, turning back towards the elevator as it chimed, the doors opening shortly after.

The two stepped inside the metal box, ensuring no other staff spotted them as the doors closed. The woman pressed a knuckle against the button that led to the roof and stepped back, pulling the masquerade mask off her face. He didn’t notice himself staring until she turned her head to look back at him, her brows raised and another amused grin across her face.

“What? Like something you see?”

“I’m not sure yet. Still looking.” He replied with a smirk, pulling off his mask and placing it into his jacket for safekeeping.

The elevator slowed to a stop, a ding catching their attention as its doors opened for the two to exit into the cool night air. A pool reflected blue light across the rooftop, illuminating the two as they walked.

“Is there anything else I can call you besides E?” A chuckle rose from his chest as he spoke, idly resting his hands in his pockets.

“Elision.”

“‘To omit,’ interesting.”

“It’s not as interesting when you’re the one removing things. Or people.”

His brows knit together, turning his head to look at the woman.

“Who gave you that name?”

She chuckled darkly, “Now you’re asking the right questions.” She paused, stepping to the railing bordering the roof, “Do you know who owns this mansion?” She tilted her head to look at the man as he settled beside her. It only took him a moment to mull over the question.

“Seth Weeks. Politician. City Council member.”

“Now, what if I told you that near the border of Gotham, underground, there’s a facility that trains and experiments on children to create soldiers?” Any sign of a smile or amusement disappeared from her face as she stared up at him, her eyes searching for any sign of what thoughts raced through his head.

He narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously, “I would know.”

She shook her head, “No, you wouldn’t. This goes deeper than you. This government corruption goes further than what you’ve broken down.”

“I would notice hundreds of children going missing, Elision.”

“They aren’t born in Gotham and kidnapped, Bruce.” She leaned against the railing, tilting her head to look at him.

The silence stretched over the next several moments. Bruce’s brows furrowed together in thought, his eyes wandering around as he pieced together the puzzle she set out for him.

“...They’re born underground.”

The woman clicked her tongue, nodding, “Now you’re catching on.”

“Where does Seth fit into this?” “Funding. Weeks visits the facility twice a month to ‘make sure his money is being used properly.’” A bitter frown pulled at her face, the words leaving a bad taste in her mouth.

“I’ll need to see this facility.” He reached into his jacket to retrieve something, casting his gaze to meet hers.

She whirled towards him, eyes wide as she stared at him, astonished.

“That means you’ll help?” Those four words decided for him, setting it in stone. This was why he put on the mask, to see the hope in the eyes of people like her. Pulling a card out of his pocket, he held it out for her, a contact card, but not for Wayne Enterprises, for Bruce himself.

“Yes.”

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