(no subject)
Title: Betty and the Bat (Ficlet #8)
Fandom: Batman Begins/Ugly Betty
Characters/Pairing: Betty Suarez and Bruce Wayne
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,895
Summary: Betty, meet Bruce. Bruce, surrender to meet Betty's aggressive side.
Notes: This is the eight part in a rather unusual crossover which takes place after Season one of Ugly Betty and the end of Batman Begins; it's AU from there.
• Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, and Part 7
"Good morning," Betty chirped, thrusting a cup of hot coffee underneath Bruce's nose as he walked through the door. She smiled up at him and shoved a clipboard and pen at him as well. "Sign there, please."
Bruce gave her a peculiar look, taking the mug in one hand and the pen in the other. Somehow he easily managed to drink the hot coffee and sign the paper and at the same time look her directly in the eye. "And good morning to you too, Betty. You're here early."
"Not really," she said frankly. "It's eight thirty. I'm a little late actually, sorry about that." Betty tucked the clipboard back underneath her arm and turned to walk back over to her desk where she popped it and herself down. She pulled in her chair and reached over to open up Bruce's schedule for the day.
"What did I just sign?" He asked, approaching the desk.
"A congratulations note for Oliver Queen." Betty unclipped the heavy card from the clipboard and held it up so that Bruce could see it himself. "His son was born last night. They named him Connor."
"The son that no one is supposed to know about," Bruce commented dryly, taking the card from her to look over and examine. It was certainly nice enough and something he would have picked out himself. It was getting to the point where Betty simply knew these things. It was nothing astounding, because it was what a good assistant simply did, but Bruce wouldn't have been surprised if Betty was the sort who could forge his signature if the occasion called for it.
"I know no one's supposed to know about it," she said, reaching to take the card back. There was a cream coloured envelope waiting for it next to her keyboard. "But I figured, well, you do know about it. Why not send a card? You've known Mr. Queen for awhile, haven't you? I know Daniel knows him."
He was forced to nod at that as he handed her the card. The truth of the matter was, the circle of old monied millionaires and billionaires ran rather small in America and they tended to all know each other. He'd gone to prep school with Daniel (until the elder Meade brother had been expelled and their parents had pulled both boys out) and Princeton, while he'd been there, with Oliver.
Bruce had never been overly fond of Oliver (or his Green alter-ego) but still, Betty was right. As usual.
She was becoming annoyingly Alfred-like in that respect. "I would have taken care of it myself."
Betty shook her head. "Nope. New Rule," she said, meeting his eyes with her own. "I take care of things like this. You go to the board meetings and sign the papers and everything, but I take care of the little things. I know that was already my job, but, well… we're going to try enforcing it now."
She had officially joined the ranks of people who could catch him off guard. Formerly, the list had consisted of Alfred.
Doing his best not to look overly amused, surprised, or taken aback by Betty's slightly aggressive attitude, Bruce simply nodded. "Alright," he said slowly, suppressing a small quirk of his lips as he glanced down at his watch. "I have a breakfast with Derek Powers at nine fifteen, so -"
"No."
"No?"
"No." Betty shook her head firmly. "New Rule. Nothing before at least eleven in the morning. You're too tired and there's no reason for you to come in before then."
Bruce found that his mouth moved before he had actually formulated a response. He blinked as he looked down at her, Betty sitting in her chair and looking rather regal and sure of herself, more than he'd ever seen her before. "No reason for me to come in before eleven o'clock, Betty? That's practically noon."
"That's the point," she said. Did he detect a tiny bit of sarcasm in her voice? He might have, but he wasn't quite sure. "New Rule. You're going to get at least five hours of sleep every night."
"Betty -"
"New Rule," she interrupted him again, holding up her hand for a pause. "If you do insist on coming in earlier, you're going to eat a full breakfast when you get here, because Alfred's going to call ahead and tell me whether or not you did back at the manor."
Bruce opened his mouth once more, but Betty shook her head quickly. "Wait," she said quickly, popping him quickly from behind her desk. "There's another rule. Bruce Time."
"Bruce Time?" This time he couldn't help but look skeptical and completely confused.
The younger woman nodded. "It's an hour each day when I'm not going to patch through any phone calls, let anyone into the office, or bother you at all." She paused a moment, cocking her head. "You should probably take a nap or something."
"Take… a nap?" When Betty nodded emphatically Bruce was quick to jump in before she could lay down anymore of these… 'rules'. "Betty, please don't be offended if I ask you… why?"
There was silence for a moment before Betty sighed audibly and pointed her finger at Bruce. "Because you," she said, narrowing her eyes at him slightly and stepping out from behind the desk. "Run around as a giant bat in the middle of the nights. And you don't get enough sleep. And you're supposed to be running a multibillion dollar company. And you're… no. No questions. It's a rule. New Rules and you have to follow them." Betty finally stopped pointing at him, but she crossed her arms and gave him a full on glare and Bruce had to wonder if that wasn't worse than the pointing alone.
At least, though, she'd given him an inkling as to what this was all about.
Funnily enough, the boss and assistant had not discussed what had been revealed since the night of the revealing itself. Bruce and Betty had eaten dinner together that night and while the topic of Bruce's nightly activities had come up once or twice, the girl had seemed more interested in discussing work related issues and had told a few amusing stories about Queens before the night was through. Bruce assumed that she was simply working on taking in the information. She was at least still speaking to him, coming into work everyday; her reaction had been better than Rachel's.
It had been a week since he'd told her, but other than a few questions of 'are you alright' they'd barely spoken about it at all. Betty had continued to come into work and do her job impeccably as she always had, greeting him with a smile each morning and thrusting coffee and papers into his hands. Just as she had this morning, but without the ultimatums.
"Betty," Bruce looked down at her. "Are we… alright?"
Betty made a face as she sat back down in her seat, hands reaching for her keyboard. "We’re fine. Why wouldn't we be?"
"Because you're acting… not quite like yourself," he said as delicately as he could. He coughed.
"Alfred and I came up with them," she answered. She bit her lower lip before speaking again and Bruce could feel some of the aggressive nature draining out of her. "You hate them, don't you? I'm sorry, but… they're for your own good."
"My own good?"
"And the city's," Betty added after a moment's consideration on the matter. "Better a well rested vigilante than a tired and cranky one."
Bruce glanced down, running his hands through his hair. "I would hardly call myself 'cranky'."
She stared at him, obviously not buying it at all. "Batman's pretty cranky, Bruce. Lying about that? Is so not worth your time."
"How am I supposed to take an hour a day to myself if I'm not coming in until eleven in the morning?" Bruce asked, deciding to try for another tactic.
"By scheduling less," she said as if it should have been obvious, and Bruce supposed that maybe it should have been. It was really the only solution. "I mean, I know you hate half the things I have to put on your schedule. Well, maybe I don't have to put them on. It's all about streamlining… less is more? Take off the last accessory you put on before you leave the house."
"Sometimes," he said, laughing just slightly. "You make it very obvious that you used to work at a fashion magazine."
"Don't change the subject," she scolded, pointing at him again. Her face fell a moment later and she rolled her eyes, mostly at herself. "Okay, it was a bad metaphor, but the point still stands, right? You don't have to go to every golf benefit people call you for. Besides," a small grin touched her lips and she shrugged. "Superman usually overshadows you anyway."
She was rather blunt today, Bruce decided. In the best way possible, of course, but blunt all the same. The girl speaking to him now was not the same girl who he'd met that first day she'd come into the office. She still had that annoying quality of almost always being right. "You're right."
Betty let herself smile. "I know," she said simply. "So, the rules: You don't do anything before eleven in the morning, you get at least five hours of sleep a night, you eat breakfast every morning, and you have an hour to yourself every day. You might be Batman, but you can't do everything. You're going to wear yourself out."
"Are these rules… flexible?" he asked.
"No- well, yes." Betty frowned, looking confused for a quick second. "I mean, if the Scarecrow breaks out of Arkham and you only get three hours of sleep one night, that's okay. But we shouldn't make it a habit."
"That's good to know." Bruce took a sip from his long forgotten mug of coffee. It was lukewarm by this point. "Can I add something to that streamlined schedule?"
"Of course," she said, grabbing for a pen from the cup on her desk. Bruce didn't know why she didn't just enter it into the computer to begin with, but she seemed to prefer writing everything down first. "What is it?"
"The circus is coming to the amphitheater in January. I'll need two tickets," he said, moving towards his office door. "Do you mind?"
"It's my job," Betty grinned. "I didn't know you were a circus fan. Should I be sending the second ticket to a lady-friend?"
"I'll let you know closer to the date." Because the chances of him being with the same woman in January that he was with now, in November, were actually quite slim. It was part of the act, he supposed. But there was also the plain fact that he was very easily bored and he found that the sort of women he was often introduced to weren't the sort he wanted to spend large amounts of time with.
Bruce laid his hand on the door to his office, preparing to go and get ready to work until something occurred to him. "Tell me, Betty, exactly what am I supposed to do until eleven o'clock?"
"Use your imagination," she said cheerily, giving him another grin. "You're Batman. I'm sure you'll think of something."
Fandom: Batman Begins/Ugly Betty
Characters/Pairing: Betty Suarez and Bruce Wayne
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,895
Summary: Betty, meet Bruce. Bruce, surrender to meet Betty's aggressive side.
Notes: This is the eight part in a rather unusual crossover which takes place after Season one of Ugly Betty and the end of Batman Begins; it's AU from there.
• Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, and Part 7
"Good morning," Betty chirped, thrusting a cup of hot coffee underneath Bruce's nose as he walked through the door. She smiled up at him and shoved a clipboard and pen at him as well. "Sign there, please."
Bruce gave her a peculiar look, taking the mug in one hand and the pen in the other. Somehow he easily managed to drink the hot coffee and sign the paper and at the same time look her directly in the eye. "And good morning to you too, Betty. You're here early."
"Not really," she said frankly. "It's eight thirty. I'm a little late actually, sorry about that." Betty tucked the clipboard back underneath her arm and turned to walk back over to her desk where she popped it and herself down. She pulled in her chair and reached over to open up Bruce's schedule for the day.
"What did I just sign?" He asked, approaching the desk.
"A congratulations note for Oliver Queen." Betty unclipped the heavy card from the clipboard and held it up so that Bruce could see it himself. "His son was born last night. They named him Connor."
"The son that no one is supposed to know about," Bruce commented dryly, taking the card from her to look over and examine. It was certainly nice enough and something he would have picked out himself. It was getting to the point where Betty simply knew these things. It was nothing astounding, because it was what a good assistant simply did, but Bruce wouldn't have been surprised if Betty was the sort who could forge his signature if the occasion called for it.
"I know no one's supposed to know about it," she said, reaching to take the card back. There was a cream coloured envelope waiting for it next to her keyboard. "But I figured, well, you do know about it. Why not send a card? You've known Mr. Queen for awhile, haven't you? I know Daniel knows him."
He was forced to nod at that as he handed her the card. The truth of the matter was, the circle of old monied millionaires and billionaires ran rather small in America and they tended to all know each other. He'd gone to prep school with Daniel (until the elder Meade brother had been expelled and their parents had pulled both boys out) and Princeton, while he'd been there, with Oliver.
Bruce had never been overly fond of Oliver (or his Green alter-ego) but still, Betty was right. As usual.
She was becoming annoyingly Alfred-like in that respect. "I would have taken care of it myself."
Betty shook her head. "Nope. New Rule," she said, meeting his eyes with her own. "I take care of things like this. You go to the board meetings and sign the papers and everything, but I take care of the little things. I know that was already my job, but, well… we're going to try enforcing it now."
She had officially joined the ranks of people who could catch him off guard. Formerly, the list had consisted of Alfred.
Doing his best not to look overly amused, surprised, or taken aback by Betty's slightly aggressive attitude, Bruce simply nodded. "Alright," he said slowly, suppressing a small quirk of his lips as he glanced down at his watch. "I have a breakfast with Derek Powers at nine fifteen, so -"
"No."
"No?"
"No." Betty shook her head firmly. "New Rule. Nothing before at least eleven in the morning. You're too tired and there's no reason for you to come in before then."
Bruce found that his mouth moved before he had actually formulated a response. He blinked as he looked down at her, Betty sitting in her chair and looking rather regal and sure of herself, more than he'd ever seen her before. "No reason for me to come in before eleven o'clock, Betty? That's practically noon."
"That's the point," she said. Did he detect a tiny bit of sarcasm in her voice? He might have, but he wasn't quite sure. "New Rule. You're going to get at least five hours of sleep every night."
"Betty -"
"New Rule," she interrupted him again, holding up her hand for a pause. "If you do insist on coming in earlier, you're going to eat a full breakfast when you get here, because Alfred's going to call ahead and tell me whether or not you did back at the manor."
Bruce opened his mouth once more, but Betty shook her head quickly. "Wait," she said quickly, popping him quickly from behind her desk. "There's another rule. Bruce Time."
"Bruce Time?" This time he couldn't help but look skeptical and completely confused.
The younger woman nodded. "It's an hour each day when I'm not going to patch through any phone calls, let anyone into the office, or bother you at all." She paused a moment, cocking her head. "You should probably take a nap or something."
"Take… a nap?" When Betty nodded emphatically Bruce was quick to jump in before she could lay down anymore of these… 'rules'. "Betty, please don't be offended if I ask you… why?"
There was silence for a moment before Betty sighed audibly and pointed her finger at Bruce. "Because you," she said, narrowing her eyes at him slightly and stepping out from behind the desk. "Run around as a giant bat in the middle of the nights. And you don't get enough sleep. And you're supposed to be running a multibillion dollar company. And you're… no. No questions. It's a rule. New Rules and you have to follow them." Betty finally stopped pointing at him, but she crossed her arms and gave him a full on glare and Bruce had to wonder if that wasn't worse than the pointing alone.
At least, though, she'd given him an inkling as to what this was all about.
Funnily enough, the boss and assistant had not discussed what had been revealed since the night of the revealing itself. Bruce and Betty had eaten dinner together that night and while the topic of Bruce's nightly activities had come up once or twice, the girl had seemed more interested in discussing work related issues and had told a few amusing stories about Queens before the night was through. Bruce assumed that she was simply working on taking in the information. She was at least still speaking to him, coming into work everyday; her reaction had been better than Rachel's.
It had been a week since he'd told her, but other than a few questions of 'are you alright' they'd barely spoken about it at all. Betty had continued to come into work and do her job impeccably as she always had, greeting him with a smile each morning and thrusting coffee and papers into his hands. Just as she had this morning, but without the ultimatums.
"Betty," Bruce looked down at her. "Are we… alright?"
Betty made a face as she sat back down in her seat, hands reaching for her keyboard. "We’re fine. Why wouldn't we be?"
"Because you're acting… not quite like yourself," he said as delicately as he could. He coughed.
"Alfred and I came up with them," she answered. She bit her lower lip before speaking again and Bruce could feel some of the aggressive nature draining out of her. "You hate them, don't you? I'm sorry, but… they're for your own good."
"My own good?"
"And the city's," Betty added after a moment's consideration on the matter. "Better a well rested vigilante than a tired and cranky one."
Bruce glanced down, running his hands through his hair. "I would hardly call myself 'cranky'."
She stared at him, obviously not buying it at all. "Batman's pretty cranky, Bruce. Lying about that? Is so not worth your time."
"How am I supposed to take an hour a day to myself if I'm not coming in until eleven in the morning?" Bruce asked, deciding to try for another tactic.
"By scheduling less," she said as if it should have been obvious, and Bruce supposed that maybe it should have been. It was really the only solution. "I mean, I know you hate half the things I have to put on your schedule. Well, maybe I don't have to put them on. It's all about streamlining… less is more? Take off the last accessory you put on before you leave the house."
"Sometimes," he said, laughing just slightly. "You make it very obvious that you used to work at a fashion magazine."
"Don't change the subject," she scolded, pointing at him again. Her face fell a moment later and she rolled her eyes, mostly at herself. "Okay, it was a bad metaphor, but the point still stands, right? You don't have to go to every golf benefit people call you for. Besides," a small grin touched her lips and she shrugged. "Superman usually overshadows you anyway."
She was rather blunt today, Bruce decided. In the best way possible, of course, but blunt all the same. The girl speaking to him now was not the same girl who he'd met that first day she'd come into the office. She still had that annoying quality of almost always being right. "You're right."
Betty let herself smile. "I know," she said simply. "So, the rules: You don't do anything before eleven in the morning, you get at least five hours of sleep a night, you eat breakfast every morning, and you have an hour to yourself every day. You might be Batman, but you can't do everything. You're going to wear yourself out."
"Are these rules… flexible?" he asked.
"No- well, yes." Betty frowned, looking confused for a quick second. "I mean, if the Scarecrow breaks out of Arkham and you only get three hours of sleep one night, that's okay. But we shouldn't make it a habit."
"That's good to know." Bruce took a sip from his long forgotten mug of coffee. It was lukewarm by this point. "Can I add something to that streamlined schedule?"
"Of course," she said, grabbing for a pen from the cup on her desk. Bruce didn't know why she didn't just enter it into the computer to begin with, but she seemed to prefer writing everything down first. "What is it?"
"The circus is coming to the amphitheater in January. I'll need two tickets," he said, moving towards his office door. "Do you mind?"
"It's my job," Betty grinned. "I didn't know you were a circus fan. Should I be sending the second ticket to a lady-friend?"
"I'll let you know closer to the date." Because the chances of him being with the same woman in January that he was with now, in November, were actually quite slim. It was part of the act, he supposed. But there was also the plain fact that he was very easily bored and he found that the sort of women he was often introduced to weren't the sort he wanted to spend large amounts of time with.
Bruce laid his hand on the door to his office, preparing to go and get ready to work until something occurred to him. "Tell me, Betty, exactly what am I supposed to do until eleven o'clock?"
"Use your imagination," she said cheerily, giving him another grin. "You're Batman. I'm sure you'll think of something."