Bail Out: 04
(Bruce Wayne x Reader)
A Bruce Wayne Multi-Chapter Series
Chapter 04: Thank You
Summary: One fateful, drunken night gets you arrested for assault. However, once you get bailed out by Billionaire Socialite Bruce Wayne, surprising obstacles get in the way, forcing you to question all your choices in life, career, and in love.
Word Count: 9000+
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Swearing
Author’s Note: This ended up longer than expected. But no regrets at all. I appreciate all the feedback I received so far from all of you. Hope you all enjoy!
Chapter LIST
The apartment remained still with silence, unchanging even with your own entrance. You certainly had many reasons to be thankful for that night. You were alive, you were safe. A taxi finally was kind enough to bring you back home. Yet, being grateful for that kindness was the last thing on your mind. Especially after what you secretly witnessed that night.
No wonder the skin over your left wrist was noticeably red, and stung with pain. Clearly the obvious response, when you have pinched yourself from disbelief countless times during the taxi ride. With the apartment all to yourself, you felt enough freedom to piece every puzzle together. You took in a deep breath.
How was it possible that Bruce Wayne, is Batman?
And more importantly, how did you not even notice?
The thought kept running through your mind on a loop. Even when you slumped on the couch, even when you carelessly you kicked your shoes off. Where did they go flying? You simply did not care. The dress pants comforted your legs as you sat cross legged.You scoffed with disbelief.
The reasons for your defense were valid. You would gladly shout them from any rooftop. He was clever, he knew what he was doing. He was never fully revealed, and the understanding of light and shadow had assisted him in concealing himself amidst the darkness and the faint city lights that shone. Even paying attention to his voice, he had concealed himself in every possible way.
Should this not be a happy surprise for you? You thought. Bruce Wayne, the man you admired, the man you had secretly fallen for, was indeed The Dark Knight. The caped crusader of Gotham City, safeguarding it to the fullest of his capabilities.
But at that very moment, it came to your realization that the glory and the pride of it, was certainly not what you were focused about. That was definitely not the reason you felt your heart clench, breaking into two. Definitely not the reason you felt your nose grow sour, your eyes well up with tears. For that was just it.
How dare you not consider the darkness behind that confident smirk of his? How dare you not empathize with the man, constantly haunted by his past personal loss, victimized by the criminal underbelly of the city ? The man who seemingly and eventually was driven by his personal vengeance and pain to rid the city of all crime whichever way possible? All in the form of a vigilante? The man who still may be silently concealing his pain, burden and struggle all his life, whilst carrying such heavy responsibility on behalf of all others?
How could you not consider that side to the man you had fallen for? How could you be so insensitive?
You tasted the salty tears, whilst they trickled down like a waterfall. The guilt forced your face to contort with exaggeration as your heart gave out, and you broke into sobs. You sobbed loud, and with no shame.
A part of you was tempted to wonder why must you weep so much for him? Could this be real love? Even unrequited, could it still be so? Was that the reason for your heart to save such generous space inside, just for you to store in the purest form of all love, affection and concern, all for Bruce Wayne?
As your shoulders shook uncontrollably, as you felt the unavoidable stream of snot exit your nostrils, the difficulty of setting this man free from your heart was evident. Forgetting him would be impossible. Even more so now. For now, your love for him had increased in hundred folds. From now on, he would always be in the center of your affections somehow, for always.
Even if he would never consider loving you back.
If he only knew how grateful you were to him every single time. If he knew of your sheer willingness to do anything in your power, just to him help him return somehow. Just to ease his pain one way or another.
The sudden vibration over your left thigh, caused you to shift your focus elsewhere. Sniffing, you pulled your phone out of your left pocket. You gasped.
But it was a gasp of happiness. It exited involuntarily from your lips the moment you laid eyes on the screen. The moment you read the message that caused you to chuckle, feel your heart warm even further, and cry out even louder with emotion.
"Hey! I'm HOME !”
Allison's voice boomed with the door opening. However her voice instantly quieted the moment she found you on the couch, bawling holding the phone. Overwhelmed with emotion, you did not seem to care of her discovery.
“Sweetie…”
Allison murmured worriedly, closing the door slowly before taking a few steps, "Whats wrong?”
Looking at her, the tears kept flowing as you wondered. Was it your place to let her decipher the entirety of your tears? Or was it your responsibility to do was right? And reveal only that truly mattered? You chose the latter instantly.
“Lillian had the baby…”
You said, mid-sob, “And it’s a girl…” you added, smiling as you bawled without limits. Never had you cried this way in simply ages.
Allison covered her mouth with surprise.
“Oh my god…”
She began, however furrowing her eyebrows soon after, “Didn’t think it would make you this emotional but this is great…why you crying?” Her curiosity did not leave her.
“I’M JUST HAPPY!…” Your sobs grew even louder.
“Awww Sweetie!”
Cooing with affection, Allison certainly felt maternal at that moment when she proceeded to comfort you. And you were not lying, you really were happy for Lillian. Exhilarated and relieved of her safe delivery.
No wonder your tears suddenly had a diverse taste. No wonder your sobs grew so much stronger.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Alfred Pennyworth stood strong and silent, permitting the container floor to lower down, and descend in to a large concrete chamber. The entire ceiling of said chamber hung low, illuminated with white fluorescent lights.
Walking past the Bat Pod parked in the middle, he found Bruce Wayne. He found him standing by the CCTV monitors and keyboards, with one hand pressing an ice pack over his right cheek, while the other held the black cowl mask, the one which seemed to be broken and had lost all its glory.
Suffice to say, there was indeed more to the eccentric billionaire than meets the eye. In the form of a secret identity, that must be protected at all cost, for the sake of this city: The Batman.
“Why are you doing this, Master Wayne?”
Alfred inquired, forcing Bruce to turn his head.
“Fixing my face?”
Bruce answered back with another inquiry, his bare torso revealing fresh bruises, “Well, you know why, Alfred”
His stoic face unchanged, the older man took the ice pack from Bruce’s face.
“You know me well enough, to know that was not what I was asking…” he said, urging the young man to sit down, “Why are you so adamant on saving this one woman?” He kept inquiring, subtly keeping the ice pack over bruise on his cheek.
“She’s an innocent civilian…”
Taking the ice pack away, Alfred shot him a glance.
“Many innocent civilians get hurt all over the city, Sir”
He stated, keeping the pack on the table, “However, you’ve been making sure she was of out of harm’s way, ever since you met her…” he said, grabbing a thin tube of medicine.
“I wasn’t so successful, to be exact…”
Bruce answered, grunting as Alfred dabbed the cooling gel over his cheek.
“Nevertheless, you saved her, every single time” he said, “…and at a cost too…”
Bruce did not reply, for he knew Alfred was right.
Ever since her presence entered his life with a ‘bruising’ reputation, Bruce Wayne had a feeling this woman had left the territory of safety, especially when she angered one of the most powerful men in Gotham City. Thus, ever since then, her safety was all that seemed important to him.
“Did Fox send you the tracker?”
That inquiry rang in his memory so clearly. The inquiry he made to Alfred on the night of the Annual Charity Dinner.
Fixing his bowtie, he accepted the small, black box from the butler’s hands.
“Following someone, Sir?”
Alfred questioned, putting his hands behind his as he stood smartly. Tilting his head, Bruce smiled:
“More like, keeping a watchful eye…” he answered.
Bruce was careful, and inconspicuous. Little did anyone realize the sole reason for his attendance at the Dinner was for the safety of one woman. The tracker being in the shape of a pen, Bruce did not have any difficulty whatsoever to put it into her handbag. Certainly no difficulty, when he found her quite intoxicated at the VIP guest room in the Hotel.
And what a relief the tracker was placed. If not, the opportunity to rescue her from a group of muggers that night would have never been possible.
Although success was in his grasp, the guilt that soon followed took over him like a fever. Savior he can be, but never keen on playing stalker. In fact, the guilt overpowered sleep that night. Thankfully, other than guilt, he also had her wallet. An adequate excuse to visit her indeed. As luck would have it, she was always so cooperative involuntarily, providing him ample time to take the tracker out of her bag while she clumsily put her shoes back on. Surprisingly, her magnetic conversation and sense of humor tempted him to linger a little while longer, which provided him with some interesting information. And he would be lying if he did not enjoy it.
“Working Late, Sir?”
Alfred’s curiosity was justified when he phoned him today. Especially when Bruce Wayne decided to stay back at work.
“Something like that…”
Bruce answered, to which the butler chuckled from the other side of the line.
“That will be a surprise, even for Mr. Fox”
His decision was all worthwhile, when he managed to rescue her once again from a much more dangerous form of attack early tonight.
“Nevertheless you saved her…every single time”
Blinking the flashbacks away, Alfred’s current words echoed in his ears. Bruce sighed.
“Petty as it was...She stood up for me, Alfred”
He replied hoarsely, getting up, “It’s not like I had many people standing up for me in my life…” he continued, as he stared at the several screens before him, one played the ‘The Bruiser’ viral clip on loop.
“Being Bruce Wayne, didn’t exactly open doors of trust or loyalty with many people around me” He said, “But she just…” pausing, he took his time before continuing, “…acted so recklessly, just for all that…just for me…”
Hands rested in his hips, where the elastic waistband of his pants hung, “And I feel like…I owe it to her…” his voice grew soft, “...especially when I have a feeling of who was responsible for all those attacks”
The security staff apprehended her on the video, while she hung her head low in embarrassment. The sight of it made him breath deep.
“I’ll never forgive myself if anything happens to her...” Bruce said firmly.
Alfred could do nothing but smile softly.
“Something tells me this is more than you just being a Good Samaritan, Sir…” He said.
All the sudden, Bruce chuckled quietly, turning to him.
“I’ll let you be the judge of that…” he replied, shaking his head.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
As the two empty bottles rested on the coffee table, you watched Allison come over to you, proudly holding on to two more beer bottles that she got from the fridge. Taking one from her hand, you smiled sheepishly.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?”
You slurred jokingly. Squinting, Allison threw you an appalled look in such dramatic fashion.
“Me?” She asked, “NOOO!!” she replied as she sat on the other corner of the couch, “Sweetie, We’re celebrating, remember?”
“Yes! We are…” nodding, you cried out loud, raising your bottle to the air, “To LILLIAN’S BABY!!”
Allison’s bottle joined in unison, which followed with cheers and whoops. A huge sip from the chilled bottle brought you comfort.
“Ahhh...she’s gonna be a cute, cute baby…” you breathed, staring lovingly at the wall, “…with chubby cheeks and all…” you added, pinching your own cheek. Suddenly, you heard Allison begin to snigger.
“What?”
You inquired, looking her way. Keeping her bottle on her stomach, Allison lazily permitted her legs to lie over the coffee table.
“Just..” She began, “I’m gonna miss this place when I finally move out…”
An emptiness hit you on the heart in a flash, forcing you to turn to her.
“You’re gonna leave?”
You breathed. Glancing at your concerned expression, Allison’s smile disappeared.
“Sweetie…” she said, her eyes catching your own, “I'm not expecting you to let me stay here forever…” taking a gulp from her bottle, she continued, “And besides, I owe you so…much…money”
Shaking your head, you waved your hand fiercely with dismissal.
“Ah! Fuck it”
You replied, sitting back to stare at the wall again. Allison’s expression grew cold.
“Sweetie…” her voice lowered, “You should be living in a fucking penthouse by now”
“Mid grade penthouse…” you corrected her, still looking away, “…the better ones are too expensive" you muttered softly to yourself.
“Whatever…”
Allison replied, her gaze still on you, “But instead…you’re stuck here in this crappy apartment...with me-”
“How dare you?” You inquired in a dramatic British accent, finally looking back at her, “This is cozy-”
“Will you let me fucking finish?”
Holding your hand out in defense, you slowly nodded.
“Sorry….” You muttered, to which Allison sighed.
“I’m gonna pay you back…”she promised with resolution, “And you’re gonna get out of here…” a smile appeared on her face, “You deserve a good life. You’re too good to me, Sweetie…” she said, rubbing your arm with affection, “We never should have been at the bar that night.”
Silent, you took another sip. Allison sighed once again, looking at the window on your side.
“You never should have stood up for me” she added, her deep voice echoing in the room.
Recollection of that fateful day she mentioned was inevitable. That day was your birthday, two years ago. Newly promoted to Senior Manager, the idea of celebrating both your birthday and promotion together with Allison seemed perfect. Celebrations did not necessarily require a group of people, in your opinion. Your ideal night of celebrating was nothing fancy. Fueling oneself with intoxication at the bar would soon be followed by a jam session at the karaoke bar. And food was definitely in the plan. You loved your Korean Barbecue.
But when a Loan Shark dropped by the bar in search of Allison, you had a feeling those epic plans had to take a rain check. Surrounded by thugs, he exuded fear.
“Allison, baby…” His drawl made your skin curl, addressing your friend, “You’ve been keeping me waiting long enough…I need my…money” he growled in procession.
Debt, you disliked that word. Unfortunately, Allison was knee deep in it, with interest as well. Her partying personality definitely did not encourage her to be responsible as you were in life, and this was proof. His threats of violence and possible death were akin to sharp shooting bullets. Unwilling to remember this night bathed in blood, your intoxicated self became Allison’s bulletproof vest.
“Sir! Sir! SIR!...” standing bravely in front of your roommate, you slurred out loud, “Worry no more!” your assurance was dramatic, making his eyebrows furrow.
“We got your money...” you claimed, to Allison’s shock, “All I ask you is…” you paused, in all seriousness, causing everyone in the bar to hold their breath in silence:
“Do you take Checks?”
As you wrote off the amount, you wrote off your chances of moving into a better apartment, and a better life. Yet, you were far from regretful.
“Well!” you said, shaking that memory away as you were intoxicated with chilled beer, “No one was gonna ruin my birthday with my Bestie!”
Your words were filled with pride, and every word was said from the heart.
“You said the exact same thing that day…”
Allison said, making you look back at her. Emptying your bottle with one last swig, you moved the bottle from your hand to the table.
“And I still mean it…” you assured. Allison’s eyes, they grew warm. Warm to the point they shone with tears. Slowly standing up, she began to walk over to you.
“Ali, what’s with that look?”
You inquired, as she sat right next to you, “Wait what are you-Ahahah!”
With your giggles, it was certainly too late to answer, when her tight hug surprised you.
“Awww Sweetie…” Allison cried, her tone muffled with her face pressed against your hair.
“Ali…” you began, as your giggles paused, “I think I'm gonna hurl-”
“What? Eww! ”
Allison yelled, moving away as if she touched fire. Only when she saw you guffaw, did she realize there really was nothing to hurl.
“I’m kidding! I’m kidding...come here…”
You giggled, pulling her pouty self over for another hug, “Awww…..What would I do without you, Ali?”
And right you were. Life was just so much richer, with your best friend beside you.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Unknown Number
Those two words stared at you from the phone screen in your Recent Calls.
Whilst walking down the lobby of Wayne Tower the next morning, you were relieved no hangover haunted you .Which left you ample time to let him haunt you instead.
The elevators seemed to be surprisingly busy today, forcing you to stand in front of one. Still staring at the phone, you could not help but wonder. Would that number still work if you were to contact him somehow?
This strange curiosity made you restless. For you longed to act one single urge: Thank Him.
Selecting the ‘Message’ option, you mindlessly began to form a text:
Thank you for last night
Your eyebrows were raised. Maybe the wording should not end so ambiguously. In fact it seemed too perverted. You scoffed, never did you expect of considering sending ‘a text’ to Batman himself. The mere idea was simply ridiculous. But, did not hurt to try. Pressing the backspace button a few times, you stared at the only words that remained:
Thank you
Finally, you smiled. With your thumb twirling around the screen, you typed away to complete it:
Thank You again.
Taking a deep breath, your thumb moved over to send, only to be responded with the following message:
Cannot be Sent.
Shaking your head slowly, you sighed. Of course, it could not be sent. It was an unknown, untraceable number for a valid reason. Bruce Wayne was smart, thus you respecting him even more. It was a failed attempt, yet you commended yourself for taking a step of bravery.
Ding!
Seemed your focus had taken you further enough to ignore all that surrounded you. For the sound of the elevator tempted you to finally look up from your phone.
A gasp left you, when the free elevator was in the midst of closing with just one woman inside it.
“Wait!” You cried out, “Stop!”
You said, running towards the door. The woman however, stood still with a cold stare whilst the doors fully closed before her. Leaving you behind. Embarrassed and annoyed, You huffed.
“Rude”
You muttered under your breath with a sigh. It was certainly one of those unfortunate days you would encounter a bad egg. Not that rude folk were rare in Gotham. It was certainly the opposite. But still, Wayne Tower had only a few.
Just before you could wallow in it, the other elevator luckily opened up to your rescue a few seconds later.
Heading to the 8th floor, you felt your luck had changed back. Life gifted you a second chance. But the moment you finally stepped out of the elevator, it was clear it was playing a prank of you.
“Ma’am…Can I help you?”
You called out confidently, addressing the woman who stood peeping through the main door with suspicion. The same, cold woman who deprived you of the elevator earlier. The moment she turned, you spotted the Visitor Name Tag on her, standing at the same height as you did. Her loose, brunette hair reached up to her shoulders, framing her rectangular shaped face. Her entire presence, it exuded confidence. And simultaneously, her aura exuded an impression you just could not stand.
“Ah!” She said, nonchalantly. Her tone was simply too casual, given the fact she just was rude to you earlier, “You work in HR?”
“Why else would I be here?”
You replied, suddenly aware of the sass that included in your tone. Too late, it was out of your control. However, she smiled.
“Then perfect…”, her plump lips revealing a perfect set of teeth in between, “I’m Clara Bennett…” as she extended her hand:
“Your new HR Consultant”
Taking her hand for a firm shake, you silently prayed for Lillian’s support to hover over you like a guardian angel.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The moment Clara Bennett set foot in to Wayne Enterprises, Lillian Foster’s absence was noticed. Assigning a Consultant to oversee the process in the HR Department seemed quite sudden, and frankly very offensive. Especially since no form of corruption or disruption of operations had occurred in the recent past.
You were clearly at fault here. It was evident that this could be the company making amends with Henderson Incorporated by making an example out of you. Such a shame it had to be for a you could not professionally take credit for.
Being the first day without the presence of the Head, a Departmental Briefing was in order. But with Clara’s appearance, you were hesitant to carry forward.
“No please…” Clara insisted, politely, “Please proceed. I’ll be more than happy to listen in…”
Her introduction was made, formalities met as everyone gathered around the Oval Table in the Conference Room. Though she flashed her smile, you could not help but feel a sense of threat by her. This was not the type of threat in relation to appearances or the usual nonsense. Granted, she was a beautiful Mixed, Hispanic with attractive features and a confident personality. But it was the coldness that was brought along with it that sent signals of warning to you. Yet, then again, this could possibly be your first impression whispering you in the ear and poisoning your mind.
“Right…” You began, “…moving on to other matters. First of all..." wearing a huge grin, you continued, "The news is true...Lillian did have her baby. And it's a girl..."
The cheers and applause that followed could make anyone wonder if you just announced the score of a NFL match. Happiness was infused in your system. No matter what, it was a relief to observe everyone’s love and respect for Lillian. It certainly proved the strength and effectiveness of her leadership. Something you aspired for have yourself.
"Yes, we should all be very happy that they are both safe and well..." you added, chuckling out loud as the applause continued, "But now, on to business..."
The crowd quickly grew silent. Pride came over you to have that effect on them.
"As I recall...there were some tasks that were pending from Lillian's side, which I hope everyone was patient with… " you eyed all those who sat, who collectively nodded, "But Good News, before she left, she had given her decisions after discussing with Management...” you declared, opening your notebook, “...and I will update them all point...by poin-"
A loud cough. An unpleasant one exited Clara’s lips in interruption, causing all heads to turn. You looked her way in a flash.
"Ms. Bennett...Are you alright?" You asked, concerned. Clara nodded, with her hand on her mouth.
"Yes...carry on..." her answer may have been polite, yet her smile seemed restrained. Ignoring it, you looked back at your colleagues.
"As I was saying..." You paused, "What? why the smiles..."
You inquired, for all of them merely smiled at you with excitement. Inciting laughter as he raised his hand like schoolboy, Greg cleared his throat before he responded:
"If I can speak freely...” he said,”...and If Clara doesn’t mind ...” he looked at her, who kept her tight smile preserved, “It's just strange for us to see you doing this Briefing instead of Lillian..."
Chuckling back, you nodded in agreement.
“I know..." You said, "Believe me, it's weird for me too..." You added, maintaining eye contact with possibly everyone you looked at, "But I hope we all can get through this time working harder than before..."
With your years of experience, you were skilled in maneuvering your voice into the seriousness that was required for a pleasant persuasion, changing the aura in the room to a more understanding one. Many nodded in agreement.
"Okay..." you said, proceeding to look at your notes "Regarding the Counseling Team Idea making Monthly rounds....” cheerfully, you clasped your hands together, “Good News! Mr. Fox loves the idea...It's a GO!"
Your cheer and enthusiasm had translated into a few cheers amongst the group who seemingly had suggested, while the others were quite impressed.
"Great Idea everyone..." Your smile expanded, giving thumbs up to the younger colleagues, "This is why we need more younger minds in this department-”
Another cough. A longer, irritating cough filled the room. With no surprise whatsoever, you turned to Clara. And this time, it felt quite personal.
"Do you need a cough drop or something, Ms. Bennett? Cause I can personally get you one..."
"No…No don’t mind me..." Clara shook her hand, "Please carry on with your...uh..." she paused, shooting a glance at the table, then yourself, "…briefing..." as her smiled died for a split second.
Though anger bubbled within your core, a smile was all that you could maintain. The show must go on. You resumed the Briefing, providing the updates necessary. You were hell bent on effectiveness and speed, making sure no man was left bored or uninterested. Thus, leading to a successful finish.
"Ms. Bennett...”
Clara turned, upon hearing your call. With the rest already vacated, the conference room was left with no one but the two of you, “May I speak to you in private?"
Looking around, She nodded. With the door open, your hands remained folded as you stood before her.
"The little cough stunt...", you began, smiling, "I know what that means...“ you said, although your smile was nowhere close to friendly, “...something is definitely not sitting right with you..." you raised your eyebrows, "Am I right?”
You were no fool. You would rather trim the hedge before the worst. Though Clara opened her mouth, no words escaped. Ultimately chuckling, she put her hands on her hips, looking right at you:
"Look...” she began, “I don’t want to be the bad guy on the very first day but...."
"But?” you inquired, showing your palms, “Please, I would really appreciate your feedback..."
The tension was high, and so was your impatience. Clara simply shrugged.
“I'm just….” pausing, she sighed, “...a little disappointed in your communicative skills as a leader..."
You froze.
"Oh...." You muttered monotonously, "I see..."
Confused, you folded your arms again, lost in mid-thought as she began to leave. Only a few seconds later, it suddenly hit you.
"Wait a second..." You uttered, forcing her to stop, "In what way exactly?" You inquired. Suddenly her opinion had affected you more than one had realized. Clara looked at you as if you were a science project, difficult to comprehend.
"You're too...." She said, eyes squinting “...amiable..." her answer seemed resolute, "...and that shows weakness..."
The moment she finally left the room, you had never felt so insulted. In all your years working in Wayne Enterprises, no one in Management had criticized your skills in this manner, not even Lillian. What on earth did she just observe, for her to make that sort of assumption?
The heavy, hurried footsteps of Greg approaching the Conference Room shook your from these toxic thoughts.
"Boss..." He panted; You turned to him in shock as he continued:
"We got a problem!”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Arguments and disagreements, a usual element in the average universal workplace. And mediating said disagreements was definitely a skill you were trained for from the beginning.
But to stop actual altercations? You would have to think twice on that.
Making your way down to the lobby with Greg by your side, a huge crowd was in your sight in the middle of the lobby. When security calls in to say an HR colleague was involved, no one would have blamed your impatience as you made your way through the crowd to the front. You gasped:
"Oh my god...Is that Caleb?" You cried to yourself.
Caleb Brown, one of your juniors, was never a troublesome kid. An innocent new recruit, he impressed you always with his patience. Yet for some unexpected reason, there he was, standing head to head with another staffer, hands tightly on each other’s collars.
"Gentleman...”
Your voice was calm when you addressed them, “Come on...Whatever this is, let’s settle this like adults-HEY HEY!”
Calmness was difficult to maintain, for the atmosphere grew violent. Caleb met the floor in an instant when the other stronger young man pushed with him anger. Kneeling next to him, you held him by the shoulders.
"Caleb...” you breathed, “You're okay-HEY! Caleb NO!..." Your reflexes acted out in a flash, restraining him when he attempted to get back up in defense. Embarrassed, he looked at you,
"Why not?” he hissed, “You fought back when Henderson talked shit about Wayne! "
Your face tensed. Touché, Caleb!
“That's nothing to do with this..." you answered curtly and quietly.
“But why can’t we fight back when this jerk talks shit about us?" Caleb asked, louder than expected, amplifying the conversation. Caleb’s opponent, seemingly not from your department , laughed out loud.
“What did I tell you, everybody? Like Senior, like Junior, right?” He slurred out in the voice of an entertainer “Why am I not surprised about this Bruiser bitch?”
The curious buzz grew louder. Your cheeks heated up, uncomfortable to the fullest. The fact The Bruiser reputation kept following you like a shadow was more than you could take. Regardless, that man’s attitude was far from professional.
“Alright… ENOUGH!”
Your thundering voice sliced through the buzz, shushing the entire crowd. Aggressive may be, yet full of control.
“I don’t know what exactly happened between the two of you...” your voice grew calm with expertise , “...but this is not the professional way to do things…And you!” you exaggerated, pointing at the rude young man, “That was certainly not the way to address anyone here…let alone your superiors…” You continued, as pin drop silence ruled the lobby. Taking a deep breath, your gaze turned deadly, “This is very disappointing....Both of you…upstairs for Mediation…now!”
Pointing towards the elevator, you watched the two young men follow Greg upstairs. With the crowd dispersing, the fear in the atmosphere was evident more than ever. As much as it assisted you, it frustrated you as well. Could this actually mean the Bruiser reputation was taking a bigger toll on your career at Wayne Enterprises?
You sighed heavily, the moment you saw Clara within your sights, standing next to the Elevator, with possibly a judgmental look on her face.
So much for a professional first impression.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“Ted!” You said, answering the phone, “How did it go?”
With the mini altercation yesterday in needing of a resolution, you were desperate for assistance. Being the current leader of HR, it should have been your rightful place to take unbiased charge of the conflict resolution. However, with Caleb involved, your participation was simply a symbol of biased treatment. Thus, Ted Hawthorne from Legal was called in to undertake the Mediation. And from his tone, it was clear it went well.
“Well, thanks to this little fiasco…” Ted replied, “…we managed to do some good after all…”
“Mind elaborating?” You inquired, sneakily watching Clara engage with the junior staff outside your office.
“The other junior guy…” Ted continued, “Leonard Attwell…He was drunk at the time, hence the badmouthing and the altercation”
“What on earth?…” you gasped, “Those are so many violations altogether…”
“Exactly, so long story short…we caught a bad apple…”
“Thanks so much for coming in, Ted” you replied, sighing with relief, “Now we can finally start the formal process on him…”
“No problem, kid”
Hanging up, you kept watching Clara making her rounds. With the incident she witnessed yesterday, it would not be surprising if she was on her personal mission dig dirt on you and the department itself. Shaking your head, you proceeded to skim through a few Survey Reports.
The moment the phone rang once again, you were pleasantly surprised by the sight of the extension.
“Hey! Jessica” you answered cheerfully, “How are you?”
“Hey! uh…”
Jessica’s response echoed in your ears,“It’s Mr. Fox. He wants to see you”
Your eyes widened.
“Shit…” you muttered inaudibly, as your eyes closed shut with desperation.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lucius Fox, was never the unpleasant person in your eyes. Ever since he was promoted to CEO a few years ago, he certainly displayed an unorthodox and humble quality to the most powerful position in the company. Yet, his wish to see you caused some concerns. Given your recent troubles at work.
“Thank You, Jessica…”
Addressing his assistance at the door, he guided you into his office, “Please take a seat”.
he said, as you both sat down. It was indeed an honor to be in his presence once again after a while.
“You know…” he began, “ I realized I remember you from somewhere…”
“Sir?”
“Ah yes! ” he smiled, the velvet voice soothing your ears, “Weren’t you the Manager who recommended that Restaurant? When Dr. Kim visited…”
“Oh…right…yes” You nodded, shyly.
Few years ago, when Fox was just the Head of Applied Sciences and Mr. Earle was CEO, you had dropped by one day to acquire certain clarifications on a project that required HR approval. Except when you did, you had stumbled on to Fox conversing with an Elite Group of Scientists from South Korea. Greeting them with the little Korean you knew, Fox was pleased when you even went out of your way to recommend your favorite Korean Restaurant at the Diamond District to them.
Fox laughed out loud, surely reminiscing that moment himself.
“Fantastic Barbecue meat…” he exclaimed, “And the Soju* helped them improve their English.” He chuckled, “I have a feeling that night really strengthened ties between us”
As much as you wanted laugh and share this merriment, concern took over your thinking space.
“Mr. Fox-” you began meekly.
“You must be wondering why I asked you up here...”
Fox began, to which you nodded, “More or less, yes”
Smiling, He took his glasses off.
“I wish to thank you for diligently working on behalf of Lillian...”
You smiled shyly. Being a kind gentleman, he contained a reliable sense in him. And still in charge of the Applied Sciences Department, a part you wondered if he was ever in relation to Bruce Wayne’s secret activities.
“And er…” he went on, “…regarding the assault incident with Mr. Henderson-”
Suddenly your heartbeat increased with panic.
“I know” you nodded frantically, prepared to face the gallows “…it was highly inappropriate-”
“Quite the contrary…” Fox replied, “Personally I believe that man needed to be taught a lesson…”
You never intended to drop your jaw, yet it did. Fox smiled.
“…but then again… that opinion will not cross these walls” he said, looking at you.
Chuckles from both sides soon followed.
“Of course…” you agreed, pointing at yourself, “ HR…confidential…” imitating closing your mouth as a zip, “It’s safe with me” you added, nodding. Given his pleasant nature, you wished you had known him better before.
“Speaking of Confidential…” Fox began, bending to his side“…there is another reason I called you up here…” he said, opening a drawer, “A favor, more like…”
Now highly curious, you leaned forward:
“Sir?”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“Okay...Breathe!”
You muttered to yourself, as soon as the doors of the elevator opened.
When Lucius Fox requests you to take a certain black box over to Bruce Wayne’s penthouse, you could not refuse. Personally, you did not want to either. Yet, it raised one burning question.
“Why me?” You remembered inquiring in an instant, genuinely curious. Clasping his hands together, Fox smiled.
“I’ve heard of your talent...”He said, “…with confidentiality...even from Ms. Foster. And so I don’t think I can trust this with anyone else but you...”
Pressing your pink lips together, you returned to the present as you stepped into the Wayne Penthouse. Ever since the fire that broke out at Wayne Manor, all were aware that Bruce Wayne stayed at his penthouse.
The click of your heels were louder than usual. And it was quite strange.
“Mr.Wayne? Hello?” You cried out, looking around “ Anyone here?”
To your disappointment, no one seemed to occupy the place. Yet that certainly did not forbid you from your breath being taken away, for it was Bruce Wayne’s home. The penthouse was indeed gorgeous. And gigantic, of course, the he dream home you aspired to have. Maybe a tad bit fancier but nevertheless, you were awestruck. Putting your handbag and the other bag on the marble kitchen counter, your feet guided you around with your hands behind your back.
Fascinated by the loud clicks your heels emitted, you were suddenly urged to vocalize a number of distinct sounds.You snapped your fingers, eagerly listening to the effects that bounced back. Impressed by the sound effects, you felt at ease. You were entranced to the point to of imagining yourself to be the owner of this wonderful residence. In your mind, you were the hostess, surrounding yourself with guests of all classes and colors in your evening party. Smiling at your imaginary guests, you raised your imaginary champagne glass:
“Good Evening Everyone…Thank you so m-”
“Ahem!”
You quickly spun to find an elderly gentleman standing behind you. Dressed smartly, he seemed quite familiar. Embarrassed, you chuckled nervously:
“Sorry just that…” you muttered, “The acoustics here are just…bonkers” That was your defense, and it was very weak. Your inner self cringed hard.
However, the older gentleman smiled.
“Couldn’t agree more, Miss…” he replied, “Bonkers it is…”
Chuckling, you stood straight.
“You must be Mr. Pennyworth…” You said, extending your hand out to him. Holding it, he shook it firmly,
“Please call me Alfred…Miss-”
You offered him your name.
“I was asked...” you began, walking over to the counter, “...by Mr. Fox to deliver this to Mr. Wayne.” You said, pulling out the black box from your bag, “... But since he’s not here, I guess I could entrust this to you”
“I will make sure Mr. Wayne gets it” Alfred said, taking it from you. Though relief washed over you, it did not feel like the time to leave.
“To be quite honest...” you paused, folding your arms “I don’t know why Mr. Fox even entrusted me with this in the first place…” You said with honesty. With the same small smile on his face, Alfred put the box inside his jacket.
“Perhaps you are highly gifted with the power of Trust…” He pointed out. Chuckling, you tapped your foot.
“No wonder I do this job…”
“Would you like some tea?”
Your eyes widened with surprise as Alfred suddenly asked, “Would appreciate the company”
Moved by his amiability, you smiled brightly, “Sure, why not”
Sitting by the marble counter, you willingly offered to serve him the tea in return, pouring it and fixing up with milk. Given the look on his face, it was safe to say Alfred Pennyworth enjoyed being treated. The conversation that took place in between consisted of your work history at Wayne enterprises, and his own history with the Wayne family. You were more than fascinated.
“...and I’ve been looking after Master Wayne ever since” Alfred said. Stirring the tea with a small spoon, you beamed.
“Wow! Mr.Wayne is so lucky…” you began, “..to have someone like you by his side all this time. I’m glad” you added, sipping your tea. With your recent, secret discovery about Bruce, You meant it in every way. Alfred chuckled.
“I’m finding it quite difficult to believe you’re the one called ‘the Bruiser’ in the news”
“Ah!” Setting the tea down on the counter, your eyes averted his gaze. “You saw…”
“I’m afraid I did”
Taking another huge sip for courage, you looked over at Alfred.
“Now I that I have your attention Alfred, I just gotta ask” you said, keeping your hands over your lap gracefully, “ Did my...little stunt upset Mr.Wayne?” You inquired, “ I really hope I didn’t give him a bad impression”
You realized how concerned you were. His expressions were subtle, Alfred’s. Thus, his response was difficult to decipher. Setting his own cup and saucer on the tray, he turned his gaze to you.
“I know it is not my place to say, but I certainly don’t think you did” He answered. For some reason, the fact that the closest person to Bruce Wayne thought this way, brought a sense of assurance to yourself. You smiled fully.
“You’re too polite, Alfred” You murmured gently. Tilting his head, Alfred was curious.
“And what makes you say that?”
“Cause …” you paused, eventually smirking “...you’re British”
A weak line, yet both of you could not stop chuckling.
“Would you like a biscuit, Miss?"
“Why yes, thank you…”
Biting into a soft buttery cookie, happiness coursed through you like the air into your lungs. It certainly felt a privilege to feel comfort in Bruce Wayne’s home. In Batman’s home? No! In Bruce Wayne’s home.
You saw Alfred look down.
“Going to a birthday party?” He asked, pointing at the wrapped box that hid inside a shimmery paper bag. Giggling, you looked at him.
“Funny enough, it’s something close…”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Unpopular opinion it way be but, you had nothing against Hospitals. Nothing bad nor good, you were simply neutral to them. Even the smell never bothered you. Once you acquired the necessary information from a friendly administrator, you walked through the hallway over to the area of the hospital rooms. Excited you were beyond all measure.
However, the excitement was suddenly cut off when your phone rang. It was a number you had not saved.
“Hello?” You answered with confidence,“Yes, this is she...who is this?”
“Uh…this is Blake....” a male voice answered back, “Officer John Blake...”
The speed of your walk began to decrease. You remembered this voice. In fact you instantly remembered his face. The face of the officer who had to apprehend you that fateful Friday night.
“Oh wow...Officer...” you began, thoughts suddenly turning blank “Umm...”
Truthfully, you were speechless. Suddenly, multi tasking seemed so difficult as you were trying to scan every patients room you passed by.
“Ma’am...are you okay?”
Blake inquired through the line. Stopping on your tracks, you sighed.
“I don’t know...am I?”
Your own responsive inquiry seemed dramatic. “I’m sorry Officer...” You sighed, “I normally don’t have the cops calling on me like this...” Concerned, you continued, “I feel like Gotham PD is now under the assumption that I’m up to no good all the time ...” you said as you continued to walk in long strides.
“Oh trust me...” he chuckled but seriously at the same time, “We know you are not...”
“Pardon?”
Now your curiousity grew even more. Clearing his throat, Blake seemingly decided to avoid going further.
“Would it be possible to schedule a meeting tomorrow?” he asked, “It’s urgent.”
Finally stopping in front of one particular room, you felt your concentration shift somewhere else.
“Sure, Officer…” you breathed, “ Come by tomorrow whenever...”
“Thanks...”
Hanging up, you smiled brightly at what you saw in the hospital room. You smiled at the beautiful woman sitting on the bed, cradling a baby in her arms. Feeling your attention on her, she caught your gaze. Holding the baby close to her, she smiled:
“Look, baby....” she whispered, “Guess which Aunty is here to see you?”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
If chance had permitted, You would have gone to see Lillian the very next night after giving birth. But with her own family members crowding her room, she insisted you visit her the day after, giving ample peace and quiet for the both of you to freely converse. And also, for you to fawn over her baby girl.
“Awww honey…you shouldn’t have…”
Lillian said, opening your box to pull out a pair of comfy pajamas, while you were busy holding the precious infant in your arms. You adored the way her big eyes looked into yours. As you held her, you wished for all your love and energy to flow into this little human, giving her enough strength and confidence to start a life as any amazing woman should, comprised of self worth and self love.
“As long as you like it, Lillian…” you said, looking at your Boss. Even without makeup, she still looked so beautiful.
“She looks like you, you know” you pointed out, giving the baby to her. Looking at the little one, Lillian tilted her head in doubt.
“Mom says she’s got Mark’s nose though…”
“Huh!…” you muttered, looking up in mid-thought, “…maybe…”
“Eh!” Lillian replied, as you chuckled together.
Your smile did not seem to fade, sitting on the chair next to the bed. Finally, Lillian looked at you in all seriousness.
“So…how’s the Consultant?”
Sighing heavily, you took your shoes off.
“Difficult…” you said, “It’s like Life just decided to put someone right in my face, just to question my every move…” you used your hands in exaggeration, “and…Get this! She says I’m too amiable for a leader…” you added, making Lillian furrow her eyebrows, “Apparently it…” you took a breath to raise your voice, “‘shows weakness’ ” imitating Clara with air quotes. Lillian laughed out loud. She was one of the very few people who laughed at your jokes and adored your expressions. Come to think of it, her display of appreciation was quite similar to Bruce Wayne’s. Oh no! The mere image of his amused expression warmed your heart once again. This man, seriously. You breathed deeply.
The baby cried, moving her arms about. Cradling her effortlessly, Lillian looked at you with a smile.
“Well…” she began, “ If your job is to eat a frog, it’s best to do it first thing in the morning”
Pausing, she anticipated your own response. Suppressing a smile, you leaned forward as you continued it for her:
“And if it’s your job to eat two frogs,” you quoted, coming to realization, “ it’s best to eat the biggest one first…” you said nodding, “Mark Twain…” you stated. Lillian chuckled.
“Atta girl…” she said, clapping her thigh with one hand. You shook her head, smiling. Lillian would always throw all these trivia at you throughout the years, you finally ended up catching them. A heavy feeling silently entered your heart, forcing you to sigh deeply.
“Ever since that incident with Henderson…” you said, rubbing your hands together, “I feel like my life is going through some changes…” you clasped them together, “I can literally feel it…It’s insane…” you added, crossing your legs. Lillian merely shrugged her shoulders.
“Who knows?” she said, “Maybe you are going through something…” she continued, “Something important…”
That just caused you more pressure. What exactly was important? Was almost getting killed twice have something to do with it? Which led you think, why were you even targeted that way? But you did not want to go down that rabbit hole of curiousity. Not now.
“Excuse me, Ma’am?”
A middle aged man knocked on the open door, capturing both of your attention, “I got a special delivery for a Ms. Foster….”
Dressed in a gray jumpsuit, he read out from his clipboard:
“…. from Mr. Bruce Wayne”
Your eyes widened. Lillian merely scoffed in disbelief.
“What could he possibly brin-Oh my God!”
She exclaimed, the moment he brought in a huge box on a handcart. With a dropped jaw, you stood up in a flash.
“A Stanley’s Deluxe Baby Crib.” You breathed, clutching your chest, “That is one expensive crib”
“Please, let us know when you head home, Ma’am. Mr.Wayne has already paid the Delivery and Installation Fees for the Crib” the man said politely, as you took the clipboard to sign behalf of Lillian. Getting up from the bed, she held the baby as she looked at the box with shock. Once you watched the man leave, you looked over to catch Lillian’s happy expression.
“Never knew Mr.Wayne would be this generous…” you said, to which Lillian laughed joyfully.
“Well, if this is how he’s gonna thank me for working 20 long years here, then I’ll take it…Ooooh look at this, baby! This gonna be your bed…Thanks to Uncle Wayne!!” she was gleeful, running her hand over the box.
Chuckling, you felt nothing but peace at that very moment. Lillian deserved this. And you were relieved Bruce Wayne felt the same.
Leaving her to rest, you walked out of the room, when the phone vibrated. Taking a good look, you involuntarily found yourself sink down to one of the waiting chairs in order to process what you just received.
A text message.
Did Ms. Foster like the gift? This is Bruce Wayne, by the way.
Smiling so brightly at the screen, you were in complete disbelief of what you read. Never did you imagine Bruce Wayne to text. But also, with all sorts of online Messenger applications that now existed for phones, you never expected a classic phone text in this day and age either.
With both your thumbs ready, you formed a response.
Pleasure to make your acquaintance on text :). And yes, she loved it. But how did you know?
Pressing send, you got up, pleased to even receive a text of the sorts as you resumed to walk. Except the phone vibrated once again with his response.
Alfred.
You beamed. His answer made perfect sense for you did disclose to Alfred of your plans. While walking, you replied soon after:
That’s kind of him.
You wrote. Except before sending, you were tempted to write further:
But, wait! How did you get my number?
Now standing in front of the hospital elevator, it did not take long for the phone to vibrate once again.
Alfred.
Liar, you thought, chuckling. But his effort to be inconspicuous was what you appreciated highly. His own humor as well. The elevator opened and even closed after a minute. Yet you did not leave. For you just kept staring at your phone. There he was, Bruce Wayne, the man behind the mask of Batman, forming something as simple as a text connection with you. When you longed to connected with the Dark Knight, this gets handed out to you in a silver platter. The only difference being, him not really knowing what you actually knew. However, a part of you wondered if this was the opportunity you should grasp before it could slip out of your fingers forever. Taking a deep breath, your thumbs got to work:
Thank you again Mr. Wayne
With confidence, You pressed send. Along with that message, you sent out your full gratitude not only for the man who bailed you out, but also for the man who saved your life twice. And when the phone vibrated once again, it was certainly the icing on top to a surprisingly lovely day.
You’re welcome.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The moonlight filtered over the huge, open balcony in the exquisite mansion without any discrimination. The waves of the swimming pool below reflected on the older man who stood by the edge of the balcony, sipping a glass of whiskey in his silk night robe. Even in his lonesome, he could not find a shred of happiness to fill his face. How could he, when he always fueled himself with hate?
Born into privilege like any one in a rich family, Erik Henderson was the type to be spoiled rotten, and grow cruel in the process. Growing old in that privilege, he certainly perfected getting away with anything. He had the wife, the son yet he was never fulfilled. For all he wanted was power. That also included power in the corporate world. For example, dominating his rival: Wayne Enterprises.
Though his nose was healed, the embarrassment he faced that fateful Friday night by the hands of a mere nobody, still lingered in his mind much more deeper than a scar. Inhaling through his teeth aggressively, he stared at the sky, delving into his hate in silence.
“You called?”
Startled, Henderson spun around to face a dark figure hidden in the shadows. With it’s robotic and undecipherable voice, it finally forced Henderson to calm himself down upon recognizing the figure.
“Jesus!” he spat. “Could you stop doing that, Alpha?”
“Occupational hazard, I’m afraid…” the voice replied, nodding in apology.
Gulping down the drink, Henderson slammed it on the drink trolley.
“Two times…” he said, showing two stubby fingers, “Two fucking times…and still you couldn’t kill her?”he snarled angrily, “WHAT DID I PAY YOU FOR?”
“Correction…” Alpha replied, politeness balanced, “You only paid a fragment of what was promised, Mr. Henderson”
Huffing in anger, the old man rubbed his temples.
“At first you said a simple mugging job would do the trick…” he said, “And when that didn’t work out, I at least thought the sniper and your assassin would finish the GODDAMN JOB…” He scoffed in disgust, “But all of them were no match for her. Not with that Batman in the way…” with his hands on hips, he turned around, “I forgot that bastard was around…” he muttered to himself.
“Perhaps, I can step in instead…”
Alpha’s reply made him turn back. The moonlight merely highlighted the outlines of the figure dressed in dark camouflage attire. The way it had disguised itself, deciphering its identity was a dead end.
“Given my observation…” it began, this is becoming much more interesting than one expected…” folding its hands, it continued, “Only with your generous payment, of course…”
Grunting in acknowledgment, Henderson pointed at Alpha.
“As long as you can get rid of her…” he demanded, “No HR bitch from Wayne Enterprises is going to insult Erik Henderson…and keep on living!”
——————————————————
Chapter 5 HERE
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