Work Text:
Alfred stared at another letter in his hands. Once, he would see that it was from the Riddler and recoil, the memory of the explosion still very much in his mind even after all the months that had passed since then, all his injuries healed. But now, he just sighed to himself and went to find Bruce somewhere in the tower.
Of course, he found Bruce in the bat cave. In retrospect, he should have headed straight there.
“You’ve got mail,” Alfred said, holding the letter up in the air. It wasn’t anything fancy, the paper and the envelope simple, what they allowed the patients in Arkham.
“Another one?” Bruce asked, a frown on his face.
Alfred found the letters just as off putting, to be frank.
He walked closer, about to put it on the desk, when Bruce spoke up again. “You know what, I don’t want to read it.”
Alfred’s eyebrows rose. “No? I thought you wanted to read all of them. It’s the Riddler, after all.”
“Yeah, but— there’s nothing dangerous in them, no hidden plans, no agenda. I don’t understand it.”
He leaned on the cane, looking out into the cave, pondering. “It is rather strange. He seemed to hate you, now he’s sending you love letters?”
“Exactly. It’s weird. I don’t see the motive. Other than…” Bruce waved his hand in the air, not finishing his thought, a look of disgust on his face. Alfred understood what he meant.
“What do you want me to do with them?”
“I honestly don’t care.”
Alfred took it back upstairs, wondering if he should just throw them out, but something made him find a box and put all of them in there. It might never be anything, but he had a weird feeling about this. Like the letters might lead to something one day. Like their importance was yet to be revealed.
After three more arrived, Alfred got a little worried. It didn’t seem like the Riddler had any plans to stop and what if the letters were only a beginning? He had definitely proved that he was smart and resourceful when he wanted to be.
Everybody thought that the Riddler wasn’t a threat anymore, locked up in Arkham. Even Bruce had brushed off his worries. Alfred felt like the letters were something the police should know about. A few people had managed to escape Arkham one way or the other, Alfred wouldn’t put it past the Riddler.
Alfred entered the police precinct, headed straight to Commissioner Gordon’s office, but was stopped on his way.
“’scuse me, sir, you can’t just walk around here like that,” the officer told him.
“I need to see the commissioner, Officer…”
“Martinez. And yeah, no. Does he know you’re coming?”
“He’s about to.”
Officer Martinez frowned. “Are you an informant, or are you here to report something? Because if that’s so, you can’t go straight to the commissioner. It doesn’t work like that.”
“The latter, but it’s something the commissioner would want to know about.”
“Okay, sure. I’ll take your report and if I think he needs to hear it, I’ll tell him, you have my word.”
“Look, Officer—” The officer held up a hand and Alfred stopped talking, momentarily thrown by the daring gesture.
“I get it, man, I really do. But the commissioner is busy, and you don’t seem to be in a life-threatening situation, or otherwise you’d have stormed past me long ago, so how about you follow me to my desk and we can start somewhere instead of wasting everyone’s time?”
“Alright then. Lead the way.”
“Thank you.”
Alfred ended up seated next to Officer Martinez’s desk, the box full of letters resting on his knees and his cane securely against the side of the desk.
The officer sat down, booted up his computer and took off his hat. He brushed his hand through his dark hair and focused on Alfred. “So. Can you start with your name?”
“Alfred Pennyworth.”
“Mr. Pennyworth,” the officer said as he typed, “what brings you here?”
Alfred decided getting straight to the point was the best. The man had said he didn’t want to waste time, after all.
“I work for Bruce Wayne. He’s been getting love letters from the Riddler for the past two months.”
The officer’s mouth dropped. “Is this a prank?” he asked after recovering from the shock, glaring outright at Alfred.
“I assure you, it’s most definitely not. Here, I brought them with me.”
Alfred opened the box and took the stash of seven letters in total. He placed them on the desk and saw the realization slowly overtake the officer’s face.
“Holy shit, you’re the—”
“—the bloke who got blown up instead of Bruce? Yes, can we focus on the issue at hand?”
“Yes, yes, right away. I was just- yeah, sorry. Are you… alright now?”
“I am, thank you. Although these letters are rather worrying.”
“Did you say love letters?” the officer mumbled as he took the one on the top of the pile. He opened it and Alfred could see his eyes move as he skimmed the contents. “He tried to kill Mr. Wayne, why would he… oh, Jesus, he has a way with words.”
Alfred cringed. The Riddler’s flair for the dramatic that showed in his speeches and videos did not miss from his writing.
The officer placed the letter back in its envelope, looking a little sick. “Right,” he told himself. “Let’s start from the beginning.” His fingers returned to the keyboard. “When did the first letter arrive?”
Alfred answered all his questions to the best of his ability and the officer wrote it all down.
“I’ll tell the commissioner about this,” the officer assured him at last, looking serious so Alfred believed him.
With a nod of his head, Alfred stood up. He was leaving the letters with the police.
He didn’t get to talk to Gordon himself, but Alfred still left satisfied.
.
When Daniel finally had a break from his workload, he knocked on the door of the commissioner’s office. The man looked up from a report he was reading, looking rather tired. “What is it, Martinez?”
“You might want to take a look at these, sir,” Daniel said, walking into the office. He put the stack of letters on Gordon’s already overflowing with paperwork desk.
The man put down what he was reading and took the letters into his hands. “What am I looking at here?”
Daniel took the letter from his hands and flipped it over where the address was. Gordon let him, a frown appearing on his face. “Wayne?” He must have noticed the Arkham logo then. “Is—”
“The Riddler, yeah,” Daniel said before Gordon could even finish his thought.
“More threats?” Gordon sighed.
“Not quite. I haven’t had the chance to read through all of them, but sir, these are no threats.”
Daniel had only read three of them so far and couldn’t find anything of worry in them. Well, nothing that would hint at further homicide plans or such. Just the fact itself that the Riddler had gone from wanting to kill Mr. Wayne to now, what, loving him? That was worrying enough. Not to mention suspicious.
“Only in Gotham,” Gordon said. He put away the files he had been reading on before Daniel had come to the office. “Close the door, would you…”
Daniel did so and then sat down on one of the chairs in front of Gordon’s desk. They went over the letters together, trying to find any hidden messages, codes, meanings, anything that could point to the Riddler still wanting to hurt Bruce Wayne.
There was nothing like that.
However, Daniel got a little worried because he was apparently agreeing with a psychopath. Some lines in those letters… he found himself thinking the same things. He also thought he could write a better letter for Mr. Wayne about his eyes.
So he had a bit of a celebrity crush, sue him. Bruce Wayne was a recluse, but a hot one.
Gordon decided this whole thing was now below his paygrade. He sighed, threw the last letter on his desk and leaned back in his chair. “You deal with this. Go talk to Wayne about it. Maybe he knows something.”
“Mr. Wayne?” Daniel perked up, grinning a little despite himself. When Gordon shot him a look, he cleared his throat and controlled his expression, deliberately dropping his smile. “I’m on it, sir.”
Daniel gave himself two days, went over the letters several more times and then headed to Mr. Wayne’s residence – the top of the Wayne Tower.
Mr. Pennyworth was the one to greet him once he made it past security. Daniel had not announced he was coming in advance, so Mr. Pennyworth left him in some kind of parlour with comfortable sofas and walls lined with bookshelves and expensive looking artworks, and went to fetch Mr. Wayne. An older woman brought in a tray with tea and poured him some even if he insisted it was really not necessary.
And well, since she had bothered, Daniel took a sip, and then another. It was a damn good tea.
He fumbled with the teacup a bit, hastily setting it down, when Mr. Wayne walked into the room.
“Hey, Mr. Wayne,” Daniel said without thinking, and then immediately cringed, recalling the last time he had met Bruce Wayne. This time, however, he got a nod in return, so progress.
Mr. Pennyworth was nowhere in sight so after Mr. Wayne sat down opposite him, not touching the tea at all, Daniel started asking his questions.
“Have you ever contacted the Riddler in any way? Spoke to him, or visited him in Arkham?” Even if it was Bruce Wayne sitting in front of him, Daniel could still do his job. He didn’t have it that bad. He liked the man, but he had never really spoken to him, he could keep himself in check.
“No.”
Daniel waited. “Is- That a no to both?”
Mr. Wayne nodded. Daniel wrote down ‘no contact’ in his notepad.
“Have you gotten any new letters?”
Mr. Wayne glanced at the door. “I don’t think so.”
“What?” Daniel asked, confused.
“Alfred would know. Ask him.”
“They’re addressed to you.”
“I don’t read them. Anymore.”
“So it’s safe to assume you don’t plan on replying?”
“No,” Mr. Wayne said.
Daniel wondered if he would get two complex sentences out of him during this questioning. “Good. I wouldn’t really recommend that.”
“Obviously.”
Daniel suppressed a chuckle at that response. Mr. Wayne probably meant it literally even if it sounded like a joke to him. This was a serious conversation after all. He couldn’t stop the small quirk of his lips, however.
Mr. Pennyworth had already told Daniel when the letters had arrived, how much time passed between each delivery. So there wasn’t all that much he could ask here. Nothing worthy of a police report had really happened yet. Daniel knew he was here conducting a pseudo-investigation just because it was related to Bruce Wayne and the Riddler.
He closed his notepad. “Your options now would be to ignore the letters or file for a restraining order. While the letters might seem innocent right now, he tried to kill you at one point so I don’t think getting the order would be any issue. Or if you don’t want to go as far just yet, we can pay Nashton a visit and ask him to stop.”
“And that will work?”
“Personally, I doubt it. But it’s worth a try, no?”
Mr. Wayne nodded.
Daniel stood up to go now that he had everything he needed. He thanked Mr. Wayne for answering and headed for the door.
“Officer Martinez,” Mr. Wayne called out quietly from behind him.
Daniel didn’t realize Mr. Wayne knew his name, and really, he should have introduced himself first, but oh well. He turned to face him again, his expression open to show that he was listening.
“The Arkham visit, will you be the one to go?”
“Ah, well, I’m on the case, so probably. But I don’t know for sure? I need to run it by my superiors first.”
He saw Mr. Wayne’s mouth open as if he wanted to say something, but at the same moment, Mr. Pennyworth arrived. “Ah, Officer, are you leaving already?”
Daniel glanced at Mr. Wayne, waiting if he would finish what he wanted to say, but his face was clear again, as if he hadn’t tried at all. Frowning a little, Daniel turned to Mr. Pennyworth and smiled at the man. “Yes, I have everything I need.” He let himself be herded out of the parlour by the butler. “Would you tell the nice lady her tea was really good? It was,” he babbled to the man as they walked to the exit.
Later, Gordon had come to him, told him to report to him directly when it came to the Riddler thing and when he proposed the visit in Arkham, Gordon hadn’t been too pleased with that, but agreed that it might be a good idea.
He didn’t want Daniel to go, however, seeing as Daniel was the one arresting the Riddler in the first place and so the man might react negatively to him and send more letters just to spite him and mess with the police. Daniel supposed he wouldn’t like random people reading his love letters and confessions either.
Gordon had ended up being the one to, which Daniel thought weird seeing as Gordon had been very much present during the arrest too. Gordon hadn’t told him much about the visit, only that it had failed.
.
Jim Gordon had seen all kinds of crazy but a criminal suddenly falling in love with a guy he had wanted dead? And actively tried to murder? Well, that was a new one. One of these days, Jim was probably going to pick up smoking again.
He waited near the lit bat signal, pacing around a bit. He had just arrived so it might take a while for Batman to notice and come. Jim would have loved to sit down or lean on one of the pillars but he didn’t feel like carrying his coat to the dry-cleaners afterwards.
Batman must have been close enough because he was there within ten minutes. Jim turned around when he heard the familiar heavy gait that Batman did when he wanted people to hear him. Jim knew damn well the man could be perfectly quiet when he wished to be.
Jim turned the bat signal off again. He handed over a file for Batman to look at. The autopsy results from a case he had Batman looking into alongside the GCPD. They talked about it some, Batman telling him what he had found in the past week that they hadn’t talked together. He had some interesting things to look into, but it still wasn’t enough to crack the case.
Jim liked to hear from Batman what the streets of Gotham were up to. Batman gave him weekly updates up here where the bat signal was located. In return, Jim told him what the police was currently investigating, where not to show his face, where he could show his face… He told him what he thought Batman needed to hear and what he didn’t, Jim kept to himself. As much as he trusted the man, he was still a vigilante and didn’t have to be privy to all the inner workings of the GCPD.
So Gordon told him what was going on, leaving the weirdest for the last. “The Riddler’s back on our radar. He’s been sending letters to Bruce Wayne?”
“What kind of letters.”
“Love letters.”
“Why is the GCPD involved already?”
Jim shrugged. “Pennyworth reported it, and it’s Wayne. And the Riddler. Not the best mix as far as we’ve seen.”
“Do you know why he’s sending them?”
“We’ve been over them, Martinez and I. Couldn’t really figure out what changed for him. Why he’s suddenly interested in Wayne that way. I went to Arkham, talked to him, but as talkative as the guy gets, he didn’t actually reveal much.”
“What did he reveal?”
“The guards have a tv in their room, he can see it from his cell. He saw Wayne on the news, doing all his charity work, helping Reál. I think that was the turning point.”
“So what, he likes him now?”
“He sure is past the whole sins of the father thing.”
“Anything else?”
“Not that you need to hear. He’s not doing anything. His little crush is obsessive and I would be worried if the guy wasn’t already locked up. He won’t stop writing the letters, but Wayne won’t engage, he will stop eventually. The guards promised not to have the news on and Wayne doesn’t want a restraining order, so that’s it. If anything happens, I have Martinez on it. The kid seems to really like Wayne, God knows I don’t see why, so he’ll do his best.”
Batman didn’t say anything but Jim could feel the silent question in the air, his stare on him. He had gotten pretty good at reading Batman’s little tells over the years.
“I don’t have anything against him, but he’s been a source of constant headaches. I mean, did he really have to decide to come out of his hiding after the flood? Like I didn’t have enough to worry about.”
Jim thought about all the events. As if protecting Reál wasn’t enough, now Wayne actually started attending various events too.
“He’s helping the city,” Batman said.
“Sure is, and good for that.” Jim rolled his shoulders, as if remembering all that stress could make him actually feel it.
Making sure that Wayne was safe was a nightmare. Especially in Gotham and after everything that came out about his family.
“Do you want anything else from me?” Jim asked, ready to head home.
“No.”
Jim nodded, taking a look at the passing clouds. The view from up here really was amazing. By the time he turned around to walk to the elevator, Batman was gone.
.
Daniel couldn’t find anything sinister in the letters. Mr. Pennyworth had delivered a new one the previous day, but it was still just about his love for Mr. Wayne.
As much as he still disliked some of the stuff that Batman did, Daniel recognized his usefulness and as it stood, Batman was probably the one person who understood the Riddler the best. He had talked to him the most.
Daniel knew that Gordon had his way of contacting the vigilante and so Daniel asked him to set up a meeting. Gordon was sceptical. He had told Batman that the GCPD could handle this one. To which Daniel got a little angry. Batman liked to come and go as he pleased when it came to their cases, now, Daniel actually wanted his opinion, so he might as well come.
Gordon didn’t have a rebuff to that and so four days later, Daniel was still in the precinct in the middle of the night, three cups of coffee in his system the only thing keeping him awake.
But he went upstairs where a conference room was, well, it served for briefings for major cases where a lot of people needed to be present. He hadn’t been in there in quite some time and as used as he was to the precinct at night, it was still a little surreal.
“What do you want?”
Daniel startled, jumping in his seat a little. “Polite as ever,” he mumbled as he glared at Batman and sat up straighter in his seat, pretending that he wasn’t as surprised by the sudden appearance.
Batman had to be doing that on purpose, Daniel was convinced.
Batman watched him, not saying anything. They had met enough times already that the man must have known Daniel wasn’t one for prolonged silences. And just as always, he filled it. “I want to know what you think about this Riddler and Mr. Wayne thing.”
“It has nothing to do with me.”
“That hasn’t stopped you before, but now I’m asking you for help.”
There was a pause. “What exactly do you want to know?”
Batman didn’t move from his position, half shrouded in the shadows. Daniel would have to tell somebody to check the lights in this room, because this just wasn’t okay. He leaned in closer, folding his hands across the desk. He had thought about what to ask in advance.
“He told you more than he told anyone. The commissioner has his theories, but I want to hear what you think too. Why would the Riddler switch up like this? It couldn’t have been just a couple news reports about, I don’t know, charity events. What does he get from these letters? What’s his motive?”
“He’s been obsessed with the Waynes for a long time.”
“Sure, but what changed? How does someone go from pure hatred to love?”
“I don’t know, I’m not a psychopath.”
Daniel chuckled at that. “I know that, but you’ve met a fair share of them.”
Batman cocked his head to the side, thinking. Daniel could appreciate how despite everything, Batman always took his ideas seriously, always contemplated them.
“He’s had a lot of time to think. He might’ve seen Wayne in a new light. A person like that, he doesn’t do anything a normal amount. He’s obsessive.”
“So he went from obsessing with you to obsessing with Mr. Wayne.”
“He wants attention, wants to be relevant. Maybe he hopes Wayne visits him or talks to him.”
Daniel pondered it. “Or maybe it’s not about the person, maybe it’s about what Mr. Wayne represents.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, look at it this way, Mr. Wayne never cared much about the company, public appearances, but after what the Riddler did to this city, he’s been trying. He’s been actually doing a lot of good, he picks the charities that truly help, he donates to individuals in need, he— okay, you know what I’m getting at. Mr. Wayne cares so much about helping this city and isn’t that sort of a result of the Riddler’s schemes? He might see Mr. Wayne as this person who’s doing something real, something helpful. So he idolizes him.”
Batman nodded slowly. “That would make sense.”
“What concerns me is how he’ll react as time goes by and he’s ignored.”
“Not well.”
Daniel’s brows rose.
“He was… upset, when his plans didn’t work. When I didn’t go along with what he wanted. But he’s in Arkham now.”
“Still, I worry about Mr. Wayne. I think he might finally be doing better. If the Riddler tries anything, it might set him back.”
Batman kept watching him steadily. “Why does that matter to you?”
Daniel shrugged. “I don’t know him personally, but… growing up like he did, seeing his parents die. Having the media on him all the time. That can mess a lot with a child. Shutting himself in the tower, it sounds like a trauma response to me. But what do I know.” Daniel laughed, a little self-deprecating. Why was he even telling Batman this. Batman definitely didn’t care. “Now that he’s out there, reclaiming his family legacy, to me that looks like a man who’s finally finding a purpose again. He needs a hug and a medal for his efforts, not a murderer writing him letters.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about Wayne.”
“Are you going to keep an eye on him?”
“Will that stop your worrying?”
“Yeah, actually, it would. If you could swing around the Wayne Tower more often…”
Daniel was sure Batman must have picked up on his slight attempt at humour there, but he didn’t laugh. Well, not that Daniel was expecting him to. Whoever he was behind that cowl probably didn’t know how to smile.
“Fine.”
Batman moved to leave, Daniel could tell. He probably only had about a second till the man disappeared in the shadows. “Are you going to jump off the roof again?” he called out, “Because there’s a perfectly working back door, take the stairs, then two left turns and you’re there. Nobody’s gonna bother you at this hour.”
The cops had gotten used to Batman’s occasional visit, even if he was always accompanied by Gordon. Daniel figured nobody would think twice seeing him there.
Of course, he didn’t get an answer.
But he had progressed in his investigation. At least he now had a clearer idea on what might have happened, what was going through the Riddler’s mind. It was still a theory, mere assumptions, but it was something.
And knowing that Batman would at least try to make sure that Mr. Wayne was alright, was a comforting thought. Batman could fight and he had moved past that vengeance thing. If Mr. Wayne was truly in danger, Daniel had no doubt that Batman would help.
.
“And then he said I need a hug,” Bruce finished summarizing the super weird conversation he had had with Martinez. As if the very weird conversation with Gordon hadn’t been enough. Talking about himself with other people like that…
And of course, Alfred was having the time of his life, laughing so hard that he was almost wheezing. Bruce was starting to get worried.
“You should befriend that officer,” Alfred said after he had calmed down enough. “Try to be more open the next time you talk to him.”
“I don’t need to.”
“Everybody needs a bit of social contact from time to time. You only ever talk to Gordon and not even as a friend.”
“Batman doesn’t have friends.”
Alfred rolled his eyes at him, good-naturedly. “No, but Bruce could.”
So when the next letter came, Alfred refused to deliver it to Officer Martinez and forced Bruce to go and do it on his own. He wanted to say he didn’t know why Alfred was doing this, Bruce didn’t even want to report the letters in the first place, but he was smart enough to realize Alfred wanted him to socialize.
Bruce felt kind of alright today. He had even managed more than just a couple hours of sleep and somebody had to bring the letter to the police either way.
With his shades on, Bruce drove himself to the police precinct. A couple heads turned as he parked the car in the closest spot available. It was a tight fit and worse drivers probably wouldn’t make it, but Bruce’s driving abilities were superb. He didn’t worry about bumping another car nor scratching his own.
Only a couple heads turned to look at him as he walked the few meters from his car to the building. He asked the guy at the reception desk where he would find Officer Martinez’s desk and went further inside after he was given directions.
He took off his glasses before entering the spacey room that held several desks. Not all were occupied. Some of the officers might be out on patrols or whatever. He only cared about finding Martinez.
He spotted him and approached him. He had to clear his throat to get his attention, the man was too busy reading something on his computer screen.
“Yeah, uh,” he turned to him, “what— Mr. Wayne? What are you doing here? Are you alright? Did something happen- the Riddler—”
The corners of his mouth twitched. All that worry on his behalf, the bounce of the dark curls as Martinez got so animated… it was endearing. Bruce dropped the envelope with the letter on the desk, immediately shutting him up.
Martinez took the letter, saw the address, recognized it right away. “You didn’t open it?” He ran his fingers along the seal.
“I’m not interested in what he has to say.”
Martinez nodded. “That’s understandable.” He was probably thinking about how the Riddler had tried to kill him and had hurt Alfred instead. Bruce really didn’t know what the Riddler expected of him, what he hoped to achieve with these letters. Alfred was alright now, but Bruce would never forget what the Riddler had done.
Martinez unlocked his drawer and put the letter in there. Bruce could make out the rest of the letters in the split second and then the drawer was shut again and Martinez had locked it.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Wayne? I’ll read the letter later today, I’ve got some time-sensitive work I need to get done first.”
Bruce hesitated, Alfred’s words coming to his mind. “Would you—”
Martinez turned his gaze at him. “Yeah?”
His eyes were rich brown. Bruce had never noticed before. “Would you like to go for a coffee sometime?”
The officer’s eyes widened and he was quiet. Too quiet. It made all his insides crawl, made him want to instantly take it back and run back to the tower, not leave his home for a couple months. Bruce was never going to listen to Alfred again. “You don’t—”
“No! I mean, yes. Let’s do that, yeah. Sorry, I just, didn’t expect Bruce Wayne asking me out today,” Martinez said but he was smiling up at him.
Inside, Bruce was panicking, but he channelled Batman and closed off all his expressions. Asking out? Did Martinez think he was asking him out on a date? That wasn’t really Bruce’s intention. He was Batman. He wouldn’t be able to date somebody and carry that secret. It would make everything so complicated.
He also didn’t know how to tell Martinez that he wanted to go for a coffee, as friends would. It dawned on him then how weird it was trying to befriend a cop who was handling his potential stalker case. He had no doubt that if the Riddler wasn’t in Arkham, he would have been watching him.
Bruce found himself wondering if this was Alfred’s true intention all along.
“Does Saturday work for you?” Bruce said instead. He might as well go with it now, get through the date and then make up something, let Martinez down gently. He would figure it out later.
“It’s perfect. I’m off all weekend,” he said and then cringed visibly. “Not that I’m expecting—whatever, forget that. Can I have your phone?”
Bruce handed it to him and watched as Martinez put in his number.
Somebody called out for Martinez from the other end of the room. He waved in the direction but didn’t turn away from Bruce after he had returned the phone to him. “Text me the time and the place?”
Bruce nodded. Martinez sent him one last smile and hurried to the woman that had called his name, one of his colleagues. Right, the man was at work.
He glanced down at the new contact saved to his phone. It read ‘Daniel M.’. Daniel, huh. He probably expected Bruce to call him that from now on. At least when they were outside. And on a date. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had an actual date.
As he drove back to the tower, Bruce kept thinking about their interaction. He could have worded it better, but he could have also corrected the guy. But Martinez looked so happy and maybe Bruce didn’t want to see that smile drop because of something he had done. If he had to go on a date with anyone, Officer Martinez wasn’t such a terrible choice.
The more Bruce thought back to the instances where he had met Martinez. As Batman, but still. The man wasn’t all that bad and by the time he had gotten home, Bruce didn’t actually mind going on a date with him.
When Alfred asked him how the delivery had gone, Bruce told him he had a date. Alfred didn’t even pretend to be surprised, a knowing smile on his face.
Well now Alfred would have to help him find something appropriate to wear, so who was laughing now.
Bruce still could simply not text Daniel, but that made something in his chest clench painfully. He couldn’t do that to him. So in the evening of the same day, when he thought it wasn’t too soon, nor too late, Bruce texted him a time and a place. It wasn’t a place too fancy, but nice, and pretty private. A good friend of Alfred’s owned it so they went there sometimes, when Bruce was much younger, but still. He knew nobody there would jump on him just because of his status and he and Daniel would actually get to talk in peace.
They agreed to meet outside the restaurant and somehow it turned into getting dinner instead of a coffee. It ran away from Bruce a little. He wasn’t as used to somebody being so enthusiastic about meeting him. Sure, people in danger, getting robbed or threatened, they sometimes cried from relief when Batman showed up, but Daniel was happy to see Bruce. And not in the way Bella Reál did or the rest of the politicians and influential people. Daniel didn’t want anything from him. Not in that sense.
Bruce had settled for the dark turtleneck Alfred had picked up for him, with just as black pressed pants. It seemed fine for a dinner date.
He was already on the way there when he realized he forgot to even think about bringing Daniel something. He should have asked Alfred about that, but it was too late now.
Bruce arrived right on time, he had made sure of that, might have sped a little on certain roads. He had even picked a less noticeable car this time round, to keep the anonymity. He hated the press and the attention they paid to him, like vultures, he could barely go anywhere without their notice. But Daniel wasn’t used to that and Bruce didn’t want to subject him to it on the first date.
Daniel was already outside the restaurant when he got there.
“Have you been waiting long?” he asked, frowning a little. He knew he was on time.
“Nah, I got here like three minutes before you.”
That was oddly specific, Bruce’s brows rose. Daniel shrugged.
“Shall we? How do you know this place? It’s pretty hidden. I’ve never even heard of it and I’ve lived here my whole life.”
“I used to come here when I was younger,” Bruce told him, opening the door for him. Daniel walked in with a small smile directed at Bruce.
Bruce might have smiled too.
When they got seated, finding a table further away from the only guests already inside. Only two tables were occupied so it wasn’t that hard. They didn’t even need to wait more than five minutes before a waiter appeared.
Bruce recognized him instantly. This was a family business, pretty much. The waiter was Alfred’s friend’s brother. He looked the same, only his hair was fully grey now and the wrinkles on his face more defined.
“Ah, if it’s not Bruce Wayne.” He grinned at him, remembering Bruce just as much. “Do you still like waffles for dinner?” he joked as he put the menus in front of them, and Bruce couldn’t fight the blush rising to his cheeks.
“Waffles? For dinner?” Daniel immediately caught on, grinning just as much as the waiter.
“I was a kid.”
“Eh, a teenager, more like.”
Bruce felt like they were ganging up on him. And he couldn’t even admit he still very much liked waffles just as much. It had always been a comfort food.
“What can I get you for drinks, gentlemen?” the waiter asked at last, the smile lingering.
Daniel ordered a light beer and Bruce still water with lemons. He explained he had driven there and Daniel seemed oddly pleased at hearing that. Bruce wasn’t much of a drinker, but he would not do so in front of a cop and then drive home.
When the waiter came back with their drink orders and asked them if they were ready to order the food, Daniel nodded.
He looked at Bruce, folding his menu. “You know, I wouldn’t say no to waffles.”
The waiter didn’t hide his amusement as he glanced from Daniel to Bruce.
It didn’t feel like a challenge, didn’t feel like Daniel was making fun of him. “Alright.”
“Let’s see if I still remember…” the waiter said, tapping his chin lightly. “Berries and cream?”
Bruce nodded.
“Got it, and you? You look like a banana and chocolate kind of guy.”
Daniel laughed at that. “That sounds great, yeah.”
They were left alone then. Bruce had already sipped enough of his water, but he didn’t want to drink the whole thing before the food arrived, he only needed to do something with his hands.
“Do you live around here?” Bruce asked the first thing that came to mind.
Daniel’s brows rose. Alright, so maybe that wasn’t a first date kind of question. “I didn’t see any cars parked around,” Bruce explained.
“I took the bus here. My car’s been making this weird noise, I haven’t had much time to look at it.”
Now that was something Bruce could talk about. “Does it make the sound only when you drive?”
“No, no. That’d mean something’s wrong with the wheels, right? But I think it’s the engine.”
“Could be a stuck pulley. When was the last time you checked the oil, and the water, before that?” Bruce leaned in closer, finding a new mystery to solve, of a different kind, but still.
Daniel seemed to know a bit about cars and could parry his questions with answers that were actually useful. By the time their dinner arrived, Bruce had given him a lot to think about the next time he had the hood of his car up. And Bruce, he hadn’t been bored, didn’t feel awkward.
After that, the conversation came easier to both of them. Like the topic of the car had been the real ice breaker. They might be a lot different, but it proved that they could still talk about things.
Later, when Bruce had paid for the dinner, he was the one that had asked him out after all, Daniel didn’t protest, but seemed a little flustered. Daniel still left a few bills in the tip jar before they could leave the restaurant.
Outside the door, Bruce couldn’t stop the slight anxiety from returning. He also found himself not wanting to part his ways with Daniel just yet. Despite what he had initially thought, he was enjoying the company.
“Would you—” Bruce started.
“Do you want to do this again?” Daniel spoke at the same time.
Bruce let himself smile slightly. He had been about to ask the same thing. “I do.”
“You do? Amazing. Yeah,” he cleared his throat, obviously trying to show less of his enthusiasm. “That’s great.”
Bruce nodded.
“So, I guess I’ll see you?”
Bruce nodded again. “I’ll text you.”
“Or you could call?” Daniel asked, hopeful.
He couldn’t exactly hide his distaste at the mention of phone-calls. Daniel picked up on it immediately, his hands going up placatingly. “Or text. Texting’s fine. I’m good with texting. Whatever makes you comfortable, man.”
Bruce, well, it was hard to hide his smile now. Daniel could be really nice if he wanted to. They had come pretty far from when he was calling Bruce a freak. Not that Daniel really knew that.
“I can drive you back, if you want,” Bruce offered.
Daniel grinned, but shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, but I was thinking I could stop by the store, get some groceries on my way back.”
“Okay.”
This was it, the goodbye for the night. Was Bruce supposed to initiate something? Was it too soon? Or was it just right? Would Daniel initiate? But Bruce had been the one to ask him out so shouldn’t he—
Daniel solved the issue for him, holding his arms out, a daring look on his face. His expression was warm, though, his brow up, but a gentle smile on his lips.
Bruce didn’t feel pressured to go for it, but he wanted to. He took the few steps, felt Daniel’s hands go around his middle. It was a short hug, nothing too presumptuous. It felt nice. Bruce wouldn’t have minded if it lasted longer.
But then Daniel was pulling away after one final squeeze, calling out ‘I’ll be waiting for that text, Bruce.’ and then he was gone, turning to the left on the corner of the street, out of Bruce’s sight.
Bruce stood there outside the restaurant for several minutes before he walked to his car and drove home.
Alfred and Dory were waiting for him with tea and biscuits.
In the morning, well, more like at noon, after Bruce had had enough sleep after a night out as Batman, Alfred greeted him like usual, but he seemed rather sketchy, his usual morning cheer not really there.
“What is it, Alfred?” Bruce asked within ten minutes of being next to the man.
Alfred folded his news with a sigh and then placed the front page in front of him.
Bruce really shouldn’t have been surprised, but he still frowned at the headline. ‘Bruce Wayne’s Hot Date?’
“I thought I was careful.” The picture under the text was of him hugging Daniel. “Are there more?”
Alfred shook his head. “I’ve looked into it. It’s just this one shot, not the best quality. It must have been from somebody living across the street. The picture went viral during the night.”
“Of course it did.” Bruce rubbed his eyes. He was not awake enough for this.
“I don’t think anyone will recognize Officer Martinez from this, but you might consider giving him a warning.”
“Yeah.”
Bruce seriously couldn’t go anywhere without people noticing. It was only a matter of time till somebody figured out who Daniel was. And it wouldn’t be fair to the man if he didn’t know what he was getting himself into. By now, he had probably already seen the news either way.
Bruce left Alfred without another word and hurried to find his phone. He didn’t want Daniel to think he was ignoring this.
Bruce
>> I’m sorry. I should have warned you about the media.
He didn’t have to wait long for an answer. In fact, the reply showed up before he could even put away his phone.
Daniel M.
>> Don’t worry about it. I kinda figured Bruce Wayne and insane press were a package deal.
>> I don’t really mind. Do you?
Bruce thought about it. He had always been comfortable in his bisexuality. It might not have been something much known to the public, but he didn’t really care about the world knowing. It didn’t change anything for him.
Did he mind that people would now think he was dating Daniel? He didn’t have to think about it too hard. Bruce didn’t mind. He texted Daniel that.
The thing was, Bruce didn’t mind that everyone now thought he had a boyfriend. Because the date had been nice and they had another one planned. And Bruce, well, he didn’t think it was going to be the last one.
There was just something about Daniel that made Bruce want to find out more about him. He always wanted to do that, but as Batman, he couldn’t. He had never expected to do so in this context, but he was glad for how it had turned out.
.
Their second date, they had dinner at the Wayne Tower. Bruce had then driven Daniel home. And again, somebody had taken a picture of them at the intersection, stopped at the red light. Daniel’s face wasn’t all that recognizable, he had been looking at Bruce when the picture had been snapped, but well, the media had run with it again.
Bruce was pretty sure now that there was no place where somebody wouldn’t spot them.
They still had a third date in plans, though. Daniel had really meant it when he had said the media coverage didn’t bother him.
Bruce received another letter from the Riddler after that second date. He had almost forgotten about those, the Riddler not sending anything for a while now.
This one, Bruce opened himself.
My dear Bruce,
I’m writing this letter feeling dejected and saddened by the things I have heard about you. I did not want to believe it but the proof is in front of my very eyes so how can I ignore it? After everything that happened between us, I owe you this. A warning. Somebody has to open your eyes to the things you can’t see and everybody must have failed so I’m left with this responsibility.
I do not say this lightly. I do not mean to hurt you or upset you. But I know these words are necessary. When everybody else has failed you, I will not. My love for you is unconditional, real. I cannot just watch as that man ruins your life. And he will. I can assure you of that. He will never understand you. He will never be there for you. How could he, when he had never experienced the grandeur of the life you lead? A mere cop could never withstand the pressure of the attention of millions on him. Not like us. I must urge you to reconsider. To cut ties. Before it’s not too late. You can still go back, Bruce. I know you can.
Officer Martinez, as I have heard them call his name, and don’t think I didn’t recognize him. I have seen him, I have felt him, his hands on me. I know that it was him in those pictures. I loathe to realize my letters are what brought you together. The shameful pigs do not care for my heartfelt words, they soiled them with their eyes, came to me for answers. They will do it again, I have no doubt, rip these from your hands and read what is not meant for them, but that will not stop me. I have to say what I have to say. So listen, Bruce, because I might not get another opportunity.
You and Martinez are a terrible match. He is part of their system. You may think you know him, but you do not. He is forceful with the ones he deems his enemies. He does not hesitate when face with criminals. But what right does he have to act like that? He thinks he is justice, but who can judge if he is right or wrong? They are all the same. You do not want to be there when he turns out the way they all do. All your charitable work, all the effort you have been putting into saving this city, he will destroy it. When he turns on the people, for money, for greed, for a comfortable life away from the streets, he will bring you down with him.
I saw the mistake of my ways. I should not have blamed you for what your parents had done. However, if I was offered the choice to do it again, I would. I did what I had to, to save Gotham, its people. Like you are doing. Martinez had ruined it for me and he will do the same to you.
I want to see you happy, Bruce, and if this is your happiness, then so be it. I have warned you. I know what I say is inevitable. I will not tell you that I told you so, no, I will be here, Bruce, as I always am. I will be waiting and when you realize that there is nobody who will ever understand you like I do, I will welcome you with open arms.
Yours, with love,
Edward
Bruce couldn’t say he didn’t see this coming. The Riddler didn’t react well to being denied something he wanted or disliked. He doubted the last few lines, that Edward truly wanted to see him happy. But he could at least try to stay optimistic about it.
Everything the Riddler had described about Daniel, all assumptions on his part since they hadn’t met more than once, those things appealed a great deal to Batman. So naturally, they appealed to Bruce too. Not that the Riddler would ever know that. He didn’t seem to think that Bruce and Daniel could have anything in common and yet he had perfectly described all the things they did. The irony was not lost on Bruce.
Bruce didn’t want Daniel to doubt their growing relationship based on what the Riddler thought of them, but he still owed it to Daniel to bring the last letter in. Daniel had been working the case from the beginning, Bruce wasn’t about to keep the closure away from him.
As it turned out, Bruce didn’t have to be worried at all. Daniel didn’t take anything from the letter to heart. He was a little impressed that the Riddler had managed to figure out his identity when the press still hadn’t, but that was it.
The letters stopped coming after that.