(Batman fic) Speak, chapter 10
Title: Speak
Author: larissafae
Fandom: Batman, Nolanverse.
Pairing: Jack/Rachel
Chapter rating: PG-13
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: If they were mine, this wouldn't be a fanfic, now, would it?
Summary: A rehabilitated Jack Napier is brought into police custody after his wife of four years, Dr. Harleen Quinzel, falls to her death from their apartment. The only ones who seem to be on his side are Gordon and Rachel, who are haunted by the fact that 'rehabilitated' doesn't always mean 'cured'.
Notes: I've slipped a few references to other fics into "Speak," some of them serious and some (probably most) of them humourous. If you see something that sounds like I got it from a fic you wrote, I promise you that I'm poking the good kind of fun, not the bad kind.
Previous chapters:
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9
She stared at the assortment of condoms on sale and bit the inside of her cheek. Really, it shouldn't be this hard to buy the damned things. Just grab one and go. But . . . was that packet raspberry flavoured? Ribbed? Lubricated? Extra large? Her head was hurting from it all.
“Rachel, I didn't know you shopped this section of Walgreen's!”
She let out an audible groan at that too-cheerful voice, wishing Hideki a thousand years in hell. He draped his arm over her shoulder, grinning from ear to ear.
“Planning a special night, huh?”
“No,” she hissed, “I'm not. I'm waiting for a prescription to be filled, that's all.”
“Oh, honey, you don't want that brand,” he said of the raspberry condoms. “They taste nasty. This selection is terrible, anyway. Hey, why don't we go to Susie's? We'll get lots of fun condoms. Want some glow-in-the-dark ones? I've got some in the car --- I don't usually share those, but I'll make an exception for my favourite fag-hag.”
“Do not call me that!” Rachel snapped as she glared at him. “And I do not need glow-in-the-dark condoms!”
“Trust me, Rachel, for some guys you need them.” He was nodding with such a serious, knowing look on his face that Rachel had to laugh.
“All right, all right, pick me some out. Nothing fancy. And no, I don't plan on using them. They're just . . . a precaution.”
“Finally!” he chortled with glee, humming as his hand hovered over a pack. “Do you know how big he is?”
“No!” Rachel squealed.
“Hey, just asking. They make extra large for a reason. Well, I'm not the reason, but . . . shut up!” he ordered as Rachel laughed. He brushed his hair out of his face and grabbed the pack. “One? Two? Three to a pack; how about two, just in case. Just in case! Guy hasn't been laid in what, eight months? Trust me, you go to bed with him and you won't get any rest.” Rachel was covering her crimson face, the tears streaming from her eyes tears of laughter this time, and her stomach was hurting from it.
“Wh, what are you doing here, Hideki?” she gasped out.
“I live down the street. What, can't I go to my neighbourhood Walgreen's? Maybe I'm also killing time so I can be passing the police station just as Raoul's off work, but I could be lying about that. I don't think so, though.”
“Fine, but you're buying those for me.”
Hideki frowned at her. “Rachel, there's no need to be embarrassed about buying condoms. In fact, more people should. I mean, be proud that you're choosing to have safer sex! I'm proud of you.” He hugged her and she shoved him away.
“Your charm won't work on me,” she claimed. “Go ooze all over Raoul.” Hideki's face went white with shock, then he started shaking and Rachel stared at him, unable to understand --- oh. Oh. Hideki was turning purple as he tried to hold his howls of laughter in, crouched on the ground and rocking back and forth. Rachel shoved past him and stalked off as he fell over, gasping for air as he tried not to make too much noise. “F . . . just . . . piss off, Hideki,” she snapped as she stepped into the next aisle and raised her hands to her cheeks. They burned so much she thought her hands might catch on fire. He was never going to let her live that one down.
Rachel checked her watch and went back to the pharmacist, who handed her the pills and gave her brief instructions after she paid. By the time she'd gotten back to Hideki, he'd gotten himself under control. He looked at her, though, and started laughing again.
“Are you ready, jerk?” she asked irritably.
He nodded, wiping the tears from his eyes as he linked his arm through hers and walked her to the cash register, where he proudly plopped the two packs of condoms down. The girl there just raised her eyebrows at his laughing face and rang him up.
“Thanks,” he told her cheerfully. “Can't be too safe, huh?”
“No, you can't,” she agreed as Hideki took Rachel's hand.
“Come on, dear,” he snickered.
Rachel snatched the bag from him, still blushing. “I hate you,” she told him. “You're fired. Clear your desk tomorrow and get out of my life.”
“Oh, you love me, Rachel, you know you do!”
“I do not,” she muttered, but his giggles were infectious and she started smiling.
“See? All right, all right, go visit lover-boy. I'll see you tomorrow --- I mean, unless you're coming out with me and Raoul tonight.”
“Not tonight,” Rachel said. “Some other time.”
“I'll hold you to it,” he promised. “Have fun.”
“You, too.” Rachel slid into her car and put one of the condom packs into her purse, then took the birth control pills out and took the first one with the last of her water. Morgenson had prescribed her pills that had less estrogen, or something like that. They supposedly wouldn't make her hormones freak out as much. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the head-rest, taking deep breaths to calm her racing heart. She could do this. She could face Jack, his gentle kisses, his pleading touches, his violent tantrums . . . he was different. He wasn't the same as he used to be. He'd come so far, and she wanted to help him to be even better. Rachel thought her heart would burst every time she ached to reach out and hold him but stopped for fear of where it might lead, but maybe that place wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. Maybe it was time to find out.
She snorted as she pulled out of the parking lot and headed to Jack's. Who was she kidding? She'd just been delaying the inevitable, and if she'd given in earlier, maybe she wouldn't have hurt Jack so much the previous night. Maybe he wouldn't have hurt her. That didn't make it her fault by a long shot, but still . . . Rachel tapped her foot impatiently as she waited in the elevator, then ran down the hall to Jack's apartment and rapped on the door.
“Jack!” she called. “Open up!” There were a few more seconds of nervous shifting, then the door opened to a slightly puzzled-looking Jack. Rachel slid inside and shut the door, then pulled him against her and wrapped her arms around his shoulders as she pressed their lips together.
Jack's eyes crossed as his arms went around her waist, but he wasn't about to question her demanding kisses. Their tongues met and he moaned when she ran her thumbs over his scars, edging one knee between hers. Rachel arched into the contact, reveled in it, and when she grabbed his collar and kissed down the side of his neck, his knees trembled.
“Tell me what you told me last night,” she whispered in his ear.
“Huh? I . . . what?”
His higher functions . . . well, weren't. Rachel pushed him away from her and he whined in the back of his throat, grabbing on to her upper arms to pull her close.
“Tell me, Jack. What you told me last night. I want to hear it again.”
“I didn't mean to,” he whispered hoarsely. “I mean, not like that.”
“Tell me,” Rachel urged again. Jack stared at her with his head tilted, blinking, then licked his lips.
“I love you,” he whispered. Rachel thought she was going to cry as she nodded.
“I love you, too, Jack.”
Jack stared at her, and she hadn't thought he could look any more dumbfounded but he managed it, his jaw dropped and his eyes bugged out and he spluttered for a moment, then Rachel was pulling him back against her and then he was kissing her before he started whooping with laughter, picking her up and swinging her around and around and Rachel was laughing, too, because it felt so damned good to finally say, to finally admit it and have it out there.
She was crushed against Jack again and whined at the pain in her bruised lip, but ignored it and held on tight when he tried to pull back. She didn't know if he meant to or not, but suddenly they both dropped to the couch and she was on top of him, his hands pushing under her shirt and over her back, fingers digging into her skin. She gasped at the contact, then he was pushing her away gently, just far enough so he could see her clearly and brush his fingers against her cheek.
“What?” she asked breathlessly. “You look like you've never seen me before.”
“I haven't,” he replied softly. His gaze was hungry as it roamed over her face, then he licked his lips and Rachel's stomach tightened pleasantly. “Tell me again,” he whispered.
“I love you,” she whispered back. She wasn't aware that she was crying until tears dripped onto his cheeks and his brows puckered, one hand gently brushing the wetness away.
“Why are you crying?”
“I'm . . . Oh, God . . .” Rachel lowered her head to Jack's chest as she started sobbing, and even though he was clearly bewildered, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. “I'm sorry,” she whispered, “I'm so sorry.”
“About what?” he asked. “Rachel, what's wrong?”
“Just . . . don't let me go,” she begged.
“I won't,” he promised, squeezing her more tightly.
He held her and kissed the top of her head until she'd calmed down and lay with her cheek against his chest, right in the big damp spot she'd made on his shirt, and he was stroking her hair gently.
“I called Harvey's,” and she hiccuped past the tears, “parents today.”
“O . . . kay . . .” He was unsure of what to say.
“I told them, I told them they didn't have to come to my birthday party.” It ended in a whine and she took a few quick, deep breaths to keep the tears at bay before explaining. “They've been coming every year since . . . since he died.” Since the Joker had set him up to die. “I'm just . . . we're all just moving on finally, I guess. But it hurts so much . . .”
Jack tilted her head up, his brown eyes sorrowful. “I'm sorry, Rachel,” he whispered, showing remorse for his past actions for perhaps the first time. “I'm . . . I'm sorry.”
“It's over, now,” Rachel told him, cradling his face in her hands. She ran her fingers over his scars and when he once would have pulled away, now he leaned into the touch, a smile blossoming over his lips. She kissed those lips gently, and he responded just as gently, and then she pulled away with a smile. “Let's go out to eat,” she suggested. “I know a place, it's quiet and there's never many people there. Can you handle that?”
“I'd shake Batman's hand if you wanted me to,” he murmured as he traced his fingers over her skin. “Hell, I'd kiss him.”
Rachel giggled. “Your crush on Batman has nothing to do with this.”
She got a shrug. “I always had a thing for flying rodents . . .” That made her laugh and then his lips were against hers once again. “But I think I prefer D.A.'s.”
“Oh, good,” she moaned softly.
It was another half hour before they left the apartment.
~
“So, Alfred bought me a new suit and said he'd put me on the guest list,” Jack finished before taking a bite of his pie. “I'm still not sure Mr. Wayne will be happy about me being there.”
Rachel smiled as she sipped at her root beer float. Jack was eating left-handed again, his right hand entwined with her left. “Alfred will find a way to bring it up, and I'll talk with him once he gets back from Vegas. And hey, straighten up. No one's going to steal your food.”
Jack looked down at his plate, then up at Rachel as he slowly straightened. “Old habit.”
“Well, I can see you much better when you're not slouched over.” She managed not to laugh when he straightened to his full height, just squeezed his hand with another warm smile.
“I can see down your shirt now, too,” Jack said, then his expression froze in one of horror and as Rachel raised her eyebrows, slightly shocked, he waved one hand in front of her face. “Ah . . . these are not the 'droids you're looking for.”
He looked so utterly mortified by what he'd obviously not meant to say out loud that Rachel had to laugh as she shifted her shoulders, trying not to pull her neckline higher.
“See?” she managed with a teasing lilt. “There are benefits to good posture.”
“I am . . . well aware of that at the moment.” He coughed and turned his face to the side, but his gaze kept sliding back to her cleavage and Rachel was flattered. “I'm sorry, Rachel, I'm not trying to stare. They're just . . . they're just there, and I like them, and they're very distracting.” His tongue was flicking over his lips --- he had the tendency to do that when he was getting aroused.
“Jack,” Rachel said as she reached out, tipping his chin up so he met her gaze. She cradled his cheek in her palm then, fingers rubbing his scars gently, and he closed his eyes with a sigh.
“Oh, that's nice, too. Not as nice, but you don't have to stop.” His inner monologue had the tendency to cross over to his verbal monologue, which Rachel found highly amusing. “Harleen rarely touched my scars,” Jack confided softly after a few moments.
“I like them,” Rachel told him. He raised his eyebrows at her and she nodded as she traced the curl of the one on his right cheek. “They remind me of how far you've come in ten years.”
The restaurant was starting to fill up, and Jack looked around before covering Rachel's hand with his. “Look, Rachel . . . Would you stay over tonight?” His gaze flicked from the side to her own as he tilted his cheek into her palm and caressed her fingers. “I just have this horrible feeling that this is all a dream, and if I wake up and you're not there, I'll know it was. I won't touch you, I promise.”
He smiled hopefully at her, and Rachel couldn't refuse, but there was one thing she needed to make clear. Not once in the eight months since Harleen's death had Jack ever let her into their bedroom --- the door was always shut when she was over, and he always referred to it as “our” bedroom. “I left your book in our room; stay here.” “The doorknob to our room is loose; will you pick me up some screws so I can fix it?” She knew that it was the one place that Jack let himself keep Harleen alive in, and Rachel was hesitant to assume she'd been invited into the dead woman's domain.
“I don't think the couch will fit both of us,” she said after a moment. Jack's tongue flicked over his lips again, probing at them, and Rachel's whole body tensed. When he did it again, slower, she knew he knew full well the effect it had on her, and that it pleased him.
“I wasn't planning on us sleeping there,” he murmured against her palm, then kissed it firmly. Rachel's eyes crossed slightly as her hand tried to clench, but Jack held it open so he could kiss it again. “Please, Rachel.”
She swallowed as her heart raced. “I have to get up for work in the morning.”
His dark eyes never left her face. “So do I.”
Rachel stared at him as the thought occurred to her that if she stayed the night tonight, no matter where she started she was going to end up in his bed, and something intimate was going to happen. One of them was going to snuggle up to the other, and then they'd start to touch, and then lips and tongues and fingers were going to explore places they'd never been, and Rachel also knew that she was going to let it happen.
So she smiled at Jack and pulled her hand away from his face, looking around for their waiter. He'd been excellent all evening, not bothering them unless a few plates needed to be cleared, or their drinks were in desperate need of refills.
“We'd better get going, then,” she murmured. “I need to get my work clothes and toothbrush from my place.”
Their waiter walked up and set the bill down silently as Jack grinned and sat back. He pulled out his wallet as Rachel reached into her purse.
“Let me pay, Rachel,” he insisted.
“Jack, you don't ---”
“I can afford to pay tonight,” he interrupted gently. “Please, let me pay.”
He had the same look Alfred got when there was no way she was going to win, so Rachel sat back and just smiled as Jack very meticulously pulled out a few bills. He looked down at the bill, his eyes narrowed, and the tip he left was sure to make the waiter his very best friend the next time they came in.
Jack looked up at her approving face. “I like a man who knows when to leave me be,” he said as he stood and reached for Rachel's hand. She took it and stood, not letting go as he escorted her out of the restaurant. He even turned back to the hostess as he held the door open for her and smiled slightly. “Thank you.”
She seemed surprised. “You're very welcome. Have a good night.”
“We will,” Jack said quietly as he put his hand at the small of Rachel's back. It was a very possessive gesture, but she supposed he had the right, at the moment, to act that way. He was, in a very romance-novel-cliche sort of way, going to make her his tonight.
Rachel's toes curled with the thought as they got into her car and headed to her apartment.
Author: larissafae
Fandom: Batman, Nolanverse.
Pairing: Jack/Rachel
Chapter rating: PG-13
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: If they were mine, this wouldn't be a fanfic, now, would it?
Summary: A rehabilitated Jack Napier is brought into police custody after his wife of four years, Dr. Harleen Quinzel, falls to her death from their apartment. The only ones who seem to be on his side are Gordon and Rachel, who are haunted by the fact that 'rehabilitated' doesn't always mean 'cured'.
Notes: I've slipped a few references to other fics into "Speak," some of them serious and some (probably most) of them humourous. If you see something that sounds like I got it from a fic you wrote, I promise you that I'm poking the good kind of fun, not the bad kind.
Previous chapters:
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9
She stared at the assortment of condoms on sale and bit the inside of her cheek. Really, it shouldn't be this hard to buy the damned things. Just grab one and go. But . . . was that packet raspberry flavoured? Ribbed? Lubricated? Extra large? Her head was hurting from it all.
“Rachel, I didn't know you shopped this section of Walgreen's!”
She let out an audible groan at that too-cheerful voice, wishing Hideki a thousand years in hell. He draped his arm over her shoulder, grinning from ear to ear.
“Planning a special night, huh?”
“No,” she hissed, “I'm not. I'm waiting for a prescription to be filled, that's all.”
“Oh, honey, you don't want that brand,” he said of the raspberry condoms. “They taste nasty. This selection is terrible, anyway. Hey, why don't we go to Susie's? We'll get lots of fun condoms. Want some glow-in-the-dark ones? I've got some in the car --- I don't usually share those, but I'll make an exception for my favourite fag-hag.”
“Do not call me that!” Rachel snapped as she glared at him. “And I do not need glow-in-the-dark condoms!”
“Trust me, Rachel, for some guys you need them.” He was nodding with such a serious, knowing look on his face that Rachel had to laugh.
“All right, all right, pick me some out. Nothing fancy. And no, I don't plan on using them. They're just . . . a precaution.”
“Finally!” he chortled with glee, humming as his hand hovered over a pack. “Do you know how big he is?”
“No!” Rachel squealed.
“Hey, just asking. They make extra large for a reason. Well, I'm not the reason, but . . . shut up!” he ordered as Rachel laughed. He brushed his hair out of his face and grabbed the pack. “One? Two? Three to a pack; how about two, just in case. Just in case! Guy hasn't been laid in what, eight months? Trust me, you go to bed with him and you won't get any rest.” Rachel was covering her crimson face, the tears streaming from her eyes tears of laughter this time, and her stomach was hurting from it.
“Wh, what are you doing here, Hideki?” she gasped out.
“I live down the street. What, can't I go to my neighbourhood Walgreen's? Maybe I'm also killing time so I can be passing the police station just as Raoul's off work, but I could be lying about that. I don't think so, though.”
“Fine, but you're buying those for me.”
Hideki frowned at her. “Rachel, there's no need to be embarrassed about buying condoms. In fact, more people should. I mean, be proud that you're choosing to have safer sex! I'm proud of you.” He hugged her and she shoved him away.
“Your charm won't work on me,” she claimed. “Go ooze all over Raoul.” Hideki's face went white with shock, then he started shaking and Rachel stared at him, unable to understand --- oh. Oh. Hideki was turning purple as he tried to hold his howls of laughter in, crouched on the ground and rocking back and forth. Rachel shoved past him and stalked off as he fell over, gasping for air as he tried not to make too much noise. “F . . . just . . . piss off, Hideki,” she snapped as she stepped into the next aisle and raised her hands to her cheeks. They burned so much she thought her hands might catch on fire. He was never going to let her live that one down.
Rachel checked her watch and went back to the pharmacist, who handed her the pills and gave her brief instructions after she paid. By the time she'd gotten back to Hideki, he'd gotten himself under control. He looked at her, though, and started laughing again.
“Are you ready, jerk?” she asked irritably.
He nodded, wiping the tears from his eyes as he linked his arm through hers and walked her to the cash register, where he proudly plopped the two packs of condoms down. The girl there just raised her eyebrows at his laughing face and rang him up.
“Thanks,” he told her cheerfully. “Can't be too safe, huh?”
“No, you can't,” she agreed as Hideki took Rachel's hand.
“Come on, dear,” he snickered.
Rachel snatched the bag from him, still blushing. “I hate you,” she told him. “You're fired. Clear your desk tomorrow and get out of my life.”
“Oh, you love me, Rachel, you know you do!”
“I do not,” she muttered, but his giggles were infectious and she started smiling.
“See? All right, all right, go visit lover-boy. I'll see you tomorrow --- I mean, unless you're coming out with me and Raoul tonight.”
“Not tonight,” Rachel said. “Some other time.”
“I'll hold you to it,” he promised. “Have fun.”
“You, too.” Rachel slid into her car and put one of the condom packs into her purse, then took the birth control pills out and took the first one with the last of her water. Morgenson had prescribed her pills that had less estrogen, or something like that. They supposedly wouldn't make her hormones freak out as much. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the head-rest, taking deep breaths to calm her racing heart. She could do this. She could face Jack, his gentle kisses, his pleading touches, his violent tantrums . . . he was different. He wasn't the same as he used to be. He'd come so far, and she wanted to help him to be even better. Rachel thought her heart would burst every time she ached to reach out and hold him but stopped for fear of where it might lead, but maybe that place wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. Maybe it was time to find out.
She snorted as she pulled out of the parking lot and headed to Jack's. Who was she kidding? She'd just been delaying the inevitable, and if she'd given in earlier, maybe she wouldn't have hurt Jack so much the previous night. Maybe he wouldn't have hurt her. That didn't make it her fault by a long shot, but still . . . Rachel tapped her foot impatiently as she waited in the elevator, then ran down the hall to Jack's apartment and rapped on the door.
“Jack!” she called. “Open up!” There were a few more seconds of nervous shifting, then the door opened to a slightly puzzled-looking Jack. Rachel slid inside and shut the door, then pulled him against her and wrapped her arms around his shoulders as she pressed their lips together.
Jack's eyes crossed as his arms went around her waist, but he wasn't about to question her demanding kisses. Their tongues met and he moaned when she ran her thumbs over his scars, edging one knee between hers. Rachel arched into the contact, reveled in it, and when she grabbed his collar and kissed down the side of his neck, his knees trembled.
“Tell me what you told me last night,” she whispered in his ear.
“Huh? I . . . what?”
His higher functions . . . well, weren't. Rachel pushed him away from her and he whined in the back of his throat, grabbing on to her upper arms to pull her close.
“Tell me, Jack. What you told me last night. I want to hear it again.”
“I didn't mean to,” he whispered hoarsely. “I mean, not like that.”
“Tell me,” Rachel urged again. Jack stared at her with his head tilted, blinking, then licked his lips.
“I love you,” he whispered. Rachel thought she was going to cry as she nodded.
“I love you, too, Jack.”
Jack stared at her, and she hadn't thought he could look any more dumbfounded but he managed it, his jaw dropped and his eyes bugged out and he spluttered for a moment, then Rachel was pulling him back against her and then he was kissing her before he started whooping with laughter, picking her up and swinging her around and around and Rachel was laughing, too, because it felt so damned good to finally say, to finally admit it and have it out there.
She was crushed against Jack again and whined at the pain in her bruised lip, but ignored it and held on tight when he tried to pull back. She didn't know if he meant to or not, but suddenly they both dropped to the couch and she was on top of him, his hands pushing under her shirt and over her back, fingers digging into her skin. She gasped at the contact, then he was pushing her away gently, just far enough so he could see her clearly and brush his fingers against her cheek.
“What?” she asked breathlessly. “You look like you've never seen me before.”
“I haven't,” he replied softly. His gaze was hungry as it roamed over her face, then he licked his lips and Rachel's stomach tightened pleasantly. “Tell me again,” he whispered.
“I love you,” she whispered back. She wasn't aware that she was crying until tears dripped onto his cheeks and his brows puckered, one hand gently brushing the wetness away.
“Why are you crying?”
“I'm . . . Oh, God . . .” Rachel lowered her head to Jack's chest as she started sobbing, and even though he was clearly bewildered, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. “I'm sorry,” she whispered, “I'm so sorry.”
“About what?” he asked. “Rachel, what's wrong?”
“Just . . . don't let me go,” she begged.
“I won't,” he promised, squeezing her more tightly.
He held her and kissed the top of her head until she'd calmed down and lay with her cheek against his chest, right in the big damp spot she'd made on his shirt, and he was stroking her hair gently.
“I called Harvey's,” and she hiccuped past the tears, “parents today.”
“O . . . kay . . .” He was unsure of what to say.
“I told them, I told them they didn't have to come to my birthday party.” It ended in a whine and she took a few quick, deep breaths to keep the tears at bay before explaining. “They've been coming every year since . . . since he died.” Since the Joker had set him up to die. “I'm just . . . we're all just moving on finally, I guess. But it hurts so much . . .”
Jack tilted her head up, his brown eyes sorrowful. “I'm sorry, Rachel,” he whispered, showing remorse for his past actions for perhaps the first time. “I'm . . . I'm sorry.”
“It's over, now,” Rachel told him, cradling his face in her hands. She ran her fingers over his scars and when he once would have pulled away, now he leaned into the touch, a smile blossoming over his lips. She kissed those lips gently, and he responded just as gently, and then she pulled away with a smile. “Let's go out to eat,” she suggested. “I know a place, it's quiet and there's never many people there. Can you handle that?”
“I'd shake Batman's hand if you wanted me to,” he murmured as he traced his fingers over her skin. “Hell, I'd kiss him.”
Rachel giggled. “Your crush on Batman has nothing to do with this.”
She got a shrug. “I always had a thing for flying rodents . . .” That made her laugh and then his lips were against hers once again. “But I think I prefer D.A.'s.”
“Oh, good,” she moaned softly.
It was another half hour before they left the apartment.
~
“So, Alfred bought me a new suit and said he'd put me on the guest list,” Jack finished before taking a bite of his pie. “I'm still not sure Mr. Wayne will be happy about me being there.”
Rachel smiled as she sipped at her root beer float. Jack was eating left-handed again, his right hand entwined with her left. “Alfred will find a way to bring it up, and I'll talk with him once he gets back from Vegas. And hey, straighten up. No one's going to steal your food.”
Jack looked down at his plate, then up at Rachel as he slowly straightened. “Old habit.”
“Well, I can see you much better when you're not slouched over.” She managed not to laugh when he straightened to his full height, just squeezed his hand with another warm smile.
“I can see down your shirt now, too,” Jack said, then his expression froze in one of horror and as Rachel raised her eyebrows, slightly shocked, he waved one hand in front of her face. “Ah . . . these are not the 'droids you're looking for.”
He looked so utterly mortified by what he'd obviously not meant to say out loud that Rachel had to laugh as she shifted her shoulders, trying not to pull her neckline higher.
“See?” she managed with a teasing lilt. “There are benefits to good posture.”
“I am . . . well aware of that at the moment.” He coughed and turned his face to the side, but his gaze kept sliding back to her cleavage and Rachel was flattered. “I'm sorry, Rachel, I'm not trying to stare. They're just . . . they're just there, and I like them, and they're very distracting.” His tongue was flicking over his lips --- he had the tendency to do that when he was getting aroused.
“Jack,” Rachel said as she reached out, tipping his chin up so he met her gaze. She cradled his cheek in her palm then, fingers rubbing his scars gently, and he closed his eyes with a sigh.
“Oh, that's nice, too. Not as nice, but you don't have to stop.” His inner monologue had the tendency to cross over to his verbal monologue, which Rachel found highly amusing. “Harleen rarely touched my scars,” Jack confided softly after a few moments.
“I like them,” Rachel told him. He raised his eyebrows at her and she nodded as she traced the curl of the one on his right cheek. “They remind me of how far you've come in ten years.”
The restaurant was starting to fill up, and Jack looked around before covering Rachel's hand with his. “Look, Rachel . . . Would you stay over tonight?” His gaze flicked from the side to her own as he tilted his cheek into her palm and caressed her fingers. “I just have this horrible feeling that this is all a dream, and if I wake up and you're not there, I'll know it was. I won't touch you, I promise.”
He smiled hopefully at her, and Rachel couldn't refuse, but there was one thing she needed to make clear. Not once in the eight months since Harleen's death had Jack ever let her into their bedroom --- the door was always shut when she was over, and he always referred to it as “our” bedroom. “I left your book in our room; stay here.” “The doorknob to our room is loose; will you pick me up some screws so I can fix it?” She knew that it was the one place that Jack let himself keep Harleen alive in, and Rachel was hesitant to assume she'd been invited into the dead woman's domain.
“I don't think the couch will fit both of us,” she said after a moment. Jack's tongue flicked over his lips again, probing at them, and Rachel's whole body tensed. When he did it again, slower, she knew he knew full well the effect it had on her, and that it pleased him.
“I wasn't planning on us sleeping there,” he murmured against her palm, then kissed it firmly. Rachel's eyes crossed slightly as her hand tried to clench, but Jack held it open so he could kiss it again. “Please, Rachel.”
She swallowed as her heart raced. “I have to get up for work in the morning.”
His dark eyes never left her face. “So do I.”
Rachel stared at him as the thought occurred to her that if she stayed the night tonight, no matter where she started she was going to end up in his bed, and something intimate was going to happen. One of them was going to snuggle up to the other, and then they'd start to touch, and then lips and tongues and fingers were going to explore places they'd never been, and Rachel also knew that she was going to let it happen.
So she smiled at Jack and pulled her hand away from his face, looking around for their waiter. He'd been excellent all evening, not bothering them unless a few plates needed to be cleared, or their drinks were in desperate need of refills.
“We'd better get going, then,” she murmured. “I need to get my work clothes and toothbrush from my place.”
Their waiter walked up and set the bill down silently as Jack grinned and sat back. He pulled out his wallet as Rachel reached into her purse.
“Let me pay, Rachel,” he insisted.
“Jack, you don't ---”
“I can afford to pay tonight,” he interrupted gently. “Please, let me pay.”
He had the same look Alfred got when there was no way she was going to win, so Rachel sat back and just smiled as Jack very meticulously pulled out a few bills. He looked down at the bill, his eyes narrowed, and the tip he left was sure to make the waiter his very best friend the next time they came in.
Jack looked up at her approving face. “I like a man who knows when to leave me be,” he said as he stood and reached for Rachel's hand. She took it and stood, not letting go as he escorted her out of the restaurant. He even turned back to the hostess as he held the door open for her and smiled slightly. “Thank you.”
She seemed surprised. “You're very welcome. Have a good night.”
“We will,” Jack said quietly as he put his hand at the small of Rachel's back. It was a very possessive gesture, but she supposed he had the right, at the moment, to act that way. He was, in a very romance-novel-cliche sort of way, going to make her his tonight.
Rachel's toes curled with the thought as they got into her car and headed to her apartment.