Twenty-Two - Vegas
Title: Calling a Truce: Vegas (22/27)
Authors: destinyawakened and mjls
Rating: pg
Words: 3205
Pairings/Characters: Tony Stark/Bruce Wayne, Alfred, Dick, Tim, Damian, Lex Luthor, Lucius Fox, Jim Gordon, Vesper Fairchild
Summary: Tony and Bruce decide to get hitched in Vegas. Things happen.
Warnings: spoilers for Batman Begins, The Dark Knight, and Iron Man
Disclaimer: We don't own or claim to own the characters or settings, the books mentioned or make any money.
Song: Viva Las Vegas - Elvis Presley
Parts: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen| Fifteen| Sixteen| Seventeen | Eighteen| Nineteen | Twenty| Twenty-One |
A week or so later -- and after Tony insisted on upping the security around the manor by Stark Industries standards -- Bruce, Tony, Alfred, Dick, Tim, and Damian found themselves setting foot in Las Vegas. Bruce had been a few times, never something he had actually let himself divulge in, Dick had never been and was in complete awe, Tim seemed more excited by the lights and architecture of buildings than anything else, and Damian... well, he always seemed disinterested in everything.
Bruce hadn't been around for two weeks, the progress he had made (and what little there had been) with Damian had diminished and he was back to being a spiteful little brat. Some of that might have had to do with the fact that Alfred said Talia had come back to check on him, furious that Bruce hadn't been there, said something to Damian and left. Now the boy was back to square one. He didn't speak much and when he did it was snarls of how much something bothered him, or why everyone else had come, or how much he hated Tim. In fact the other day at the manor when they were supposed to be out playing in the gardens, it seemed that the two ended up in headlock battle. Tim, of course, got in trouble because he should have known better. Damian didn't go without reprimand though; it only made him more sore at Tim.
What was odd to Bruce was that no matter how much he disciplined Damian, the child just kept coming back to him. Albeit, not affectionately, but for approval and guidance. Damian was five, maybe almost six, but he lacked the imagination and innocence of most children; he was hard to read, often stone-faced and completely without emotion. Damian Wayne had definitely been taught since birth by the League of Shadows and its founder Ra's al Ghul -- there was just no other way to explain it.
Stepping out of the car that had been waiting at the airport for them and into the lobby of the Hilton Resort Hotel, Bruce took a hold of the five-year-old's hand so he wouldn't get lost. It was instinct, really, because a child so small shouldn't know how to take care of himself. Usually when Bruce tried this Damian would flinch away, but this time he didn't; this time he held Bruce's hand back, tighter. Alfred was bringing up the back, Tim and Dick in front of him and Tony on Bruce's other side.
Even if they did just get married in Hawaii, Tony couldn't help but shoot a flirtatious smirk and wink at the girl behind the counter, while safely holding his hand on the back of Bruce's back in case the girl would try and get more than just that. Bruce couldn't help but glare affectionately at his husband, knowing he'll never change but reassured by the fact that Tony hadn't let go of him ever since they got on the plane. He managed to keep touching Bruce in one way or another, even in the smallest ways.
Damian held Bruce's hand all the way through the check-in and up the stairs. Once, Bruce looked down at the boy but the he wasn't paying attention to him, only to those around him and at one point even stood in a little closer to Bruce. If Bruce didn't know any better, he'd say he thought Damian didn't like large crowds. Tony pulled Bruce out of his thoughts when he began talking at the top floor where the penthouse rooms were.
"Okay so we got three rooms! I got the kids together, Alfred a room apart cause he deserves it for giving me an extra cup of coffee every day this week, and me and Bruce got one together, considering we're sort of married. Here's the keys, have fun, don't wreck the room and if you do, send the bill to Lex Luthor." Tony walked to their room, waiting for Bruce at the door and Bruce nodded at him, a gesture he'd be right there. He walked Damian into the boys' room and sat him down on the bed.
Bruce knelt down in front of him. "Damian, please be on your best behavior," Bruce asked, silently begging that the boy actually do something nice for once. This little crack in the kid was a nice change, even if he kept the same expressionless face.
"Yes, father," Damian said plainly, his eyes never leaving Bruce's face.
"Don't go near Tim and listen to Alfred."
"Yes, father." This time his tone of more definite, as if he knew Bruce was really wanting this of him, and Damian didn't want to disappoint.
"Good." And Bruce walked back to his and Tony's room. He threw off his suit jacket and walked over to the window to check out the view they had of the Las Vegas Strip. Bruce put his hands in his pockets and sighed. Why was he having the feeling that this was going to be the last vacation they had for a long time... let alone time together? He hated that feeling, but tried not to think about it. Tony appeared behind him, wrapping his arms around Bruce's waist and resting his chin on his shoulder.
Bruce caressed Tony's long fingers, nudging his head against Tony's lovingly. "That kid is going to be the death of me," Bruce said, half joking; mostly trying to work through his frustrations.
"Hm. Hope not. Where would that leave me then?"
"With my kids," Bruce stated. "I would leave them with Alfred, but he's already threatened that if something happens to me he is not raising them on his own. You've been legally added as legal guardian," Bruce smirked, turning around in Tony's arms, and leaning back against the window. "Sorry, forgot to tell you sooner."
"So when you kick the bucket, I'm left caring for the little brats together with the old coot?" Tony raised an eyebrow, "Eh could be worse, I could be stuck in prison with Luthor for attempted murder at your funeral."
Bruce shook his head at Tony, not so surprised to hear that he would actually pick a fight with Luthor at a funeral. His funeral, even!
"They're not brats," Bruce muttered.
"Your little prodigies? No they're pretty cool. I was talking about your other stray puppy, the one that keeps kicking me in the shins," Tony grumbled, not really pleased with how Damian was sometimes acting around him, which was that he often kicked Tony randomly in the shins and threw a tantrum at him. It wasn't that hard to figure out that the child didn't like Tony all that much.
"He doesn't like you."
"Oh really? I hadn't noticed that yet at all, after all, it's hard to miss behind all the loving hugs he gives me," Tony rolled his eyes.
"He doesn't like Tim either. I think he tolerates Alfred and Dick, and that's only because they aren't a threat to him," Bruce explained, not that it really mattered or would make Tony feel any better. "He's getting better though. He's at least starting to act like a kid."
"...Are you saying Damian is jealous is me shagging you?"
Bruce raised an eyebrow at Tony. "No. I'm saying that he's jealous of the time you get with me and he doesn't. Same with Tim. Alfred and Dick are pretty self efficient, they don't take a lot of my time."
"...Oh," Tony said, "still, he gets you when I don't. He shouldn't be such a greedy brat."
"Tony..." Bruce sighed, placing his hands gently on Tony's hip, pulling the man to him. "He's just a child."
Tony shrugged and kissed Bruce's cheek, "as long as you're my husband, I don't care, I might as well just start wearing my golden under layer of the armor under my clothes though to just protect my legs against attacks from the little devil."
Bruce laughed, shaking his head. "I'm sure he'll grow out of it. Maybe you two need some bonding time. You are technically his step-father."
"...Oh god, I'm a step-father," Tony winced, "I was trying not to think about that."
"Better than the biological father," Bruce teased, kissing Tony. "So, what do you want to do first?"
"I want to keep standing here in silence for as long as we can," Tony smiled.
------
Alfred took the boys to a Go-Kart racing arena just outside the strip, while Tony and Bruce flipped through catalogs and brochures on places to get married. Bruce was pointing out some very traditional places -- chapels and such -- while Tony was pointing out the more fun ones, like pirates. The hotel, Treasure Island, had package going where you could get married on their outdoor pirate ship used in one of their evening shows. Bruce just stared at Tony as he went on about how awesome it would be to get married as pirates and how he and Bruce would it so much better than Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann.
"It's not really themed that way," Bruce said, flipping through the pages of the brochure. "You just get some guy dressed as pirate on ship."
"No one says we can't dress as pirates, too!" Tony chided, smirking. "I'm sure we can find some really great costumes..."
"No," Bruce said sternly, "that's not going to happen."
"Aww, come on! It'll be fun. We can go shopping for the best costumes, authentic even!"
"We're not dressing up as pirates."
"You're no fun cupcake, where's your sense of arrdventure?" Tony asked, giving one of those piratey half smiles as he rolled it into the 'arr'.
Bruce shook his head. "Why do we need to be so flamboyant with it? It's just Alfred and the boys attending."
Tony went to open his mouth, to respond with some witty, Bruce was sure, when he fell quiet suddenly and muttered something about a call. He furrowed his eyebrows as he fell silent and took the call using Extremis. He held up a hand at Bruce and the lady behind the counter who had been quiet up until that point. He walked out into the lobby of the hotel, and Bruce watched as Tony paced frantically. Couldn't be good; the last time this happened a whole super hero civil war broke out and the worst happened...
"Excuse me," Bruce said to the lady, walking to the lobby.
"... No, No! I'll be there. Leave here in an hour," Tony said out loud even if the conversation was in his head. He looked at Bruce approaching, pocketing his hands and looking sort of bummed. Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Luthor."
"Luthor?"
"Luthor," Tony growled, frustrated. "After years of trying to get him to strike a deal with SI, now he wants join forces for a project. If I don't get there in three hours he's backing out."
"So you're leaving now?"
Tony tipped his head to the side, before brushing his thumb against Bruce's cheek affectionately. "Relax, I'll be back by tonight."
----
Bruce stood on the tarmac, just under the wing of Tony's jet, kissing his husband good-bye. He'd see him tonight, but the good-bye seemed harder after nearly a month of constantly being around Tony Stark. Tony hadn't even packed, he promised to be back that evening and that their little pirate wedding would still go off without a hitch tomorrow afternoon. Bruce smiled one more time, brushing off the weird feeling in his gut that was telling him to not let go. Bruce had placed his hands on either side of Tony's face and Tony tightened his fingers around Bruce's wrists, and pushed his hands away just before giving him a quick peck on the lips and flirtatious wink.
And that was it. Tony boarded the plane, throwing Bruce one last wave. Bruce waited for the plane to take off before reluctantly walking back towards the limo. He had his hand on the door handle when his cell phone began to jingle. He quickly took the phone from his pocket and looked at the screen. He was expecting Alfred or one of the boys, but this was Lucius Fox. Bruce thumbed the slide on the screen and put the phone to his ear, expecting some boring, casual business conversation.
"Lucius!" Bruce exclaimed, motioning to the limo driver he'd be just another second.
"Mister Wayne," the other man returned, but his voice less excited than Bruce's. There was a lot of background interference, the whirring of an engine of some kind, and if Bruce didn't know any better, it was a plane.
"What can I do for you?"
"There's a slight issue in Gotham, business you could say, that requires your attention," Lucius explained, and it was so vague that Bruce could tell it wasn't something the other man wanted to talk about over a phone call. Bruce's long pause caused Lucius to continue. "I'm calling from the plane and should be arriving shortly. I can brief you on the situation during the trip back to Gotham."
Back to Gotham. Terrible news, bad news even if Lucius was personally coming out to pull Bruce back. This wasn't normal Wayne Enterprises business, this was Batman business. Tony wasn't going to like this, not one bit.
-----
Alfred stayed behind with the boys to wait for Tony's return. Bruce hadn't been able to reach Tony directly and ended up leaving a message with Pepper about having to leave, but hopefully being back the next day.
Bruce had quickly put the Batsuit on and made his way towards the lit signal up top of Major Crimes. According to Lucius it had been on for two nights straight prior to them returning to Gotham. Third night and it was on again. Lucius hadn't known a lot about what was going on, but he had known enough that it wasn't a good sign. Gotham had gone months without constant Bat-supervision; things that were grim started to look brighter, cops were less corrupt and Bruce had had high hopes.
Obviously he let his guard down too much and was desperately going to pay for it.
He landed at the edge of the rooftop, just out of sight. "Gordon," he growled. The Commissioner jumped a little, turning his gaze to the shadows.
"I thought if you didn't come tonight, you weren't coming at all. That you'd finally given up on this city," Gordon said patiently. His arms were folded over his chest, but he didn't look as angry as Bruce thought he'd be; in fact he was down right calm.
Bruce didn't say a word.
Gordon tipped his head a little, finally hit the switch on the floodlight. "Three homicides Monday, four last night. We've had reports of one already this evening. It's not like anyone we've dealt with before. This one is clean, does the job effortlessly and with not a bit of evidence left over. Those you played witness said they never saw it coming. Quiet, a lot like you I'd say. Some even said it was you, but I know not to believe that."
"I'll look into it," Bruce said, plain and rough, not a sign if caring. He had to keep his disappointment in himself out of this; if Gordon knew he was regretful, then things could waver -- that wasn't good. Gordon looked as if he were about to say something else, something Bruce was sure he didn't want to hear, but Bruce jumped down the side of the building instead before the man had the chance. The question was now who was this person murdering and why? The amount of dead bodies in just a few days was extreme, almost if someone wanted the attention.
Joker? No. He was safely in Arkham where Bruce last put him.
And by the nights end there wasn't a single other murder; almost as if whoever had been doing it only did it drag Batman out of hiding. An awful way to get attention, especially if they didn't want to be found. Bruce was done by the time the sun started to hilt over the very highest rooftops in the city, and he was tired. He could manage to get back to the manor in one piece, but he really was too exhausted and the penthouse was just five minutes away from his current location. He'd go to sleep, wake up and head back to Vegas and finish the last of whatever vacation he had left with Tony.
Upon arriving, he landed on the balcony, quickly walking over to the touch pad and tried to enter his security code. nothing happened. The word "REBOOT" were flashing on the screen. Bruce frowned and waited for the words to stop flashing. Finally a steady "READY" sign appeared and he entered his code. The doors unlocked and he entered through the kitchen, taking the secret path to his hidden "fallout shelter" to change. The only thing he had was a clean suit. He threw on the pants and shirt, leaving it unbuttoned as he made his way up the stairs and down the hall to the master bedroom (on the rooms Alfred didn't put plastic over, because he knew Bruce would do this from time to time).
He opened the door, stepping towards the bed when he felt something sticky, slightly slippery, under his bare feet. It didn't feel like water, and it was vaguely warm. Bruce quickly reached for the light, slamming the switch up. In front of him was pool of deep red blood -- that he had been standing in -- that lead to the bed where his once pristine white sheets were a slowly becoming a shade of blood-soaked crimson. He stepped a bit closer to the bed to see a pretty little auburn haired woman sprawled out on the bed, dress torn, neck bruised, and multiple gunshot wounds to the abdomen.
This was Vesper Fairchild, a known radio talk-show host who had recently interviewed Bruce when he and Tony returned from Hawaii. It wasn't a big interview, and it was pretty spur of the moment as she caught him coming out of Wayne Enterprises the day before they left for Vegas. Bruce didn't know what to think, wasn't sure of the reaction he should be having. He saw her chest fall just slightly; she was still alive, but Bruce knew just barely.
He carefully looked her over, not wanting to move her, hands floating just above her trying to figure out what he could do. She was dying and Bruce knew he really didn't have a lot of time to think about it. He looked over at the side of the bed, the phone that usually sat on the nightstand was on the floor and turned on, the number for emergency dialed. Bruce grabbed it quickly without much thought, and cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder. He placed his hands on Vesper where she was shot, applying the necessary pressure. Her eyes were half open, almost dead, as she stared at him unmoving. There was already so much blood...
"Gotham Emergency, please state the nature of your call?"