(no subject)
Title: Betty and the Bat (Ficlet #3)
Fandom: Batman Begins/Ugly Betty
Characters/Pairing: Betty Suarez, Bruce Wayne, Lex Luthor
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,967
Summary: Betty plays hostess to Lex Luthor's bodyguard while Lex is in a meeting with Bruce. The two do not get along.
Notes: This is the third 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. You can read parts 1 here and 2 here.
Thank you to all those who read and commented on the first two parts!
Mercy Graves reminded Betty of Amanda, except Betty suspected that Amanda actually had a soul.
Betty wasn't sure what Mercy had, but she was guessing that is was less 'pure immortal soul' and more computer chips and circuitry. Did human beings have eyes that blue or the ability to stand that unnaturally straight and still? Admittedly, Betty knew that the answer to the first question was yes, but circuitry and computer chips could still explain number two, and Betty was nearly sure that's what it was.
She would have much preferred to have Amanda sneering at her. At least Amanda's bark was worse than her bite. Looked as if Mercy Grave's bark was her bite and that was a bit worrying. Her distasteful looks down her nose to Betty were much harder than the ones Amanda had ever managed to muster up, and Mercy didn't have an excitable, if not loveable, well dressed queer boy toy to temper her. At least Betty didn't think Lex Luthor was an excitable, well dressed, queer boy toy. Well dressed, yes, but not gay (as far as she knew), and no one's toy. He seemed a bit too arrogant for that title.
Yet for some reason the comparisons to Amanda kept flying into Betty's head. Despite Mercy's resemblance in temper to the catty Mode receptionist, Betty was still on her best behavior.
"Would you like a cookie?" she offered. The plate of chocolate chip cookies on her desk were from home; a cooking experiment by her nephew, Justin, that had turned out surprisingly well. Even Alfred had complimented them earlier that morning when he'd stepped in briefly with Bruce. It hadn't seemed like he was trying to be polite, which was sometimes the case as Alfred was not one for rudeness.
Betty held the plate out to Mercy Graves, knowing that if she was anything like the girls at Mode it would be another, 'well, more for me' moment of rejection. "They're homemade."
Mercy said nothing, nor did she seem to give two shakes about the offer. Betty placed the plate back on her desk and pushed her glasses upon her nose. "Okay, well, feel free to have a seat like I said. And, oh, I have a diet coke if you'd like one." She paused a moment and frowned. "Or diet sprite. Either way, it's diet." Not that she was insinuating anything. Betty realized what her statements sounded like and blushed thoroughly, but didn't open her mouth to apologise once she saw the look on Mercy's face.
Mercy the Murderess had a nice ring to it. The woman really did look like she could knock a quarterback out with a spoon if she put enough effort into it.
"No." Betty jumped in surprise when Mercy actually opened her mouth and words came out. Words that sounded decidedly human and feminine. Betty glanced at Mercy curiously, but did not make her observations known. That couldn't have ended well.
Mercy's glare continued to be stony and as she reached for one of her nephew's creations, Betty found herself missing the (ridiculing) company of Amanda and Mark.
The two women sat in silence for nearly a quarter of an hour, though it was no fault of Betty's. Once it became clear that Mercy did not desire to engage in small talk the younger girl simple stopped trying and turned back to her computer screen all the while praying that something to keep her busy would magically appear. She clicked open her mail account, but found it devoid of anything besides junk mail and a few things which she needed to talk directly to Bruce about, and of course, she couldn't very well do that while he was meeting with Mercy's boss. Betty left the box open a few more second as she munched on her cookie, hoping that a piece of mail would ding in. That the phone would ring. Anything to interrupt the tension Mercy was laying thickly throughout the room. It was like she'd infected her own little corner of the room and was trying to slowly infect everyone else, Betty thought bitterly.
She considered it something of a blessing when the ornate wooden door to Bruce's office opened and both he and Mr. Luthor emerged. Betty wasn't sure if either of them looked particularly happy, but was distracted from that thought when Mercy moved from her little corner. She did it in such a way that made Betty flinch and her heart rate increase by a good three beats per second. She was more convinced now, upon seeing her move, that the woman was likely one of those secret super soldiers the government would never admit to having. And that was only if she was human in the first place.
Mercy moved to Mr. Luthor's side like a cat to milk. Upon second examination Betty decided that Lex Luthor had no similarities to Mark whatsoever. Luthor was well dressed yes, but he lacked that certain flamboyant flare which Mark pulled off so wonderfully. She found herself missing that, not to mention his smug , self-satisfied smirk (which Mr. Luthor had as well, but again it was missing Mark's touch). It was odd, really, for Betty to realize how much she thought about her friends (or acquaintances, as they were) from Mode. It wasn't that she felt there had to be comparisons between everyone she'd met in Gotham and those she'd met in New York, she just couldn't help making them. Perhaps it was just her way of coping with the way things had turned out.
Alfred, for instance, had become someone akin to Christina, Wilhelmina's seamstress, always there for a kind word and pleasing to the ear with what Betty considered an awesome accent. Betty didn’t think that Alfred knocked them back after hours like Christina did, and she couldn't talk to him about the men in her life (nil, at this point) but when it came to friends at work, Betty took what she could get.
This wasn't to say that her new boss wasn't friendly. Bruce was, in his own way. Betty had no complaints. He'd warmed to her good deal faster than Daniel had (not that that was a slight against Daniel, but it had probably helped that Bruce hadn’t been hoping to sleep with her before he'd even met her) and honestly he seemed to be a decent human being… in the few ways that young male billionaires could be. Still, the man asked after her family each day and had remembered the names of her father, sister, and nephew from day one, so he was good in Betty's books. He didn't remind her of anyone from Mode, Bruce. He was little like Daniel, Alexis, Wilhelmina, or Bradford. The only similarity Betty could see between her old boss and her one were their playboy ways. But even in that, Bruce seemed to be a bit… subtler. Betty didn't worry for Bruce the way she had Daniel. Granted, she'd only been at WayneTech a few months yet, but she just didn't see herself needing to worry for him, and it wasn't because she didn't care.
"Betty?"
Forced out of her thoughts by Bruce's voice, Betty started and glanced up from her computer screen, it appeared that she ad opened the date planner but couldn't remember what for. She adjusted her glasses and pushed hair from her face as she looked at Bruce. "I'm sorry, what date was that?" she asked hurriedly.
From aside Lex, Mercy smirked.
"December 18th. Lex's gala for the orphanage."
"December 18th, 2007?" She asked, aware of how ridiculous the question might have sounded, but you never knew with these people. These things were sometimes scheduled years in advance.
Mercy smirked again from her place beside Lex. Betty kept herself from sighing.
Bruce nodded shortly. "2007."
"Right." Betty said quickly. She looked back at the screen and began typing. She could feel Mercy's taunting eyes on her as she worked and was only too glad when Bruce walked back over towards Lex and began leading both him and Mercy -thank God-towards the door.
"I look forward to it," Bruce was saying as he shook Lex's hand.
Lex simply nodded. "Of course," he said, the chip of entitlement obviously very heavy upon his shoulders. "Come along, Mercy."
Betty had never been more glad to see two people leave a room. But she refrained from voicing that opinion as well, even though as soon as the door closed behind them she felt as if breathing miraculously became easier.
"So he talked you into going?" Betty asked, looking up at her boss.
"In a manner of speaking-may I?" When she nodded Bruce took one of the cookies from her desk. At least some people appreciated good food. "Do you have a ball gown?"
Betty could tell from the look on Bruce's face that he was very much not surprised when she shook her head, indicating the negative. The same answer would have given anyone at Mode a heart attack. "Do I… need one?"
"The gala is a black tie event." He made it sound like such an everyday thing. "So you'll need a ball gown."
"I will?" One didn't have to listen closely to hear the note of 'please, God, let him be joking' manifest in her voice.
Bruce nodded. "You can consider it a company expense." He paused, a half smile touching his lips. "You've got nearly six months. Isn't that how long is usually takes women?"
Well, Betty had to admit, he did have a point. That was six months to find a dress, cut back on carbs, join a gym, force her hair to grow in gorgeous flowing layers, stop biting her nails, get a pedicure, tweeze her-
Six months to buy a dress. She had to stop there before the hyperventilating started.
That was much less dizzying. Not to mention plausible. But even with things seeming plausible there was still a matter she couldn't figure. "Rachel isn't able to go?" Betty asked.
"You mean, why do I want you to go?"
Ah, obviously not as subtle as she'd thought. Betty found herself blushing. "That too, yes."
Bruce chuckled and Betty was reminded that even the smallest of laughs could sound a bit odd coming from the lips of Bruce Wayne. She had the feeling he didn't do it much at all. "I thought maybe you'd have fun." When he chuckled again she could only assume the look on her face hadn't yet turned from absolute horror.
"Truth be told, I need you there in a more official capacity," he said finally and Betty relaxed a bit. Official she could do. There was no problem with official. She'd still have to find a dress, but official meant less awkward small talk with people she didn't know and didn't care to know her. She was awkward enough on her own, thanks. "We'll talk details once the date becomes closer."
"Alright," Betty said; she was already typing notes for herself to that she wouldn't forget. "Anything else?"
"Not at the moment." Bruce neatly sidestepped the chair sitting next to her desk on the way back to his office, grabbing another of her nephew's creations as he did. He paused only as the cookie was on its way towards his lips. "Actually, put in a call to the Daily Planet. Please."
She nodded, reaching for the phone. "The Metropolis offices? Who do you want?"
"Clark Kent and I'll take it in my office," he said. With that and a short nod of thanks, Bruce disappeared behind his office doors. Betty's outer quarters fell suddenly silent beside the occasional 'whrr' from her computer.
Betty found that, for the moment anyway, this was how she preferred it.
Fandom: Batman Begins/Ugly Betty
Characters/Pairing: Betty Suarez, Bruce Wayne, Lex Luthor
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,967
Summary: Betty plays hostess to Lex Luthor's bodyguard while Lex is in a meeting with Bruce. The two do not get along.
Notes: This is the third 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. You can read parts 1 here and 2 here.
Thank you to all those who read and commented on the first two parts!
Mercy Graves reminded Betty of Amanda, except Betty suspected that Amanda actually had a soul.
Betty wasn't sure what Mercy had, but she was guessing that is was less 'pure immortal soul' and more computer chips and circuitry. Did human beings have eyes that blue or the ability to stand that unnaturally straight and still? Admittedly, Betty knew that the answer to the first question was yes, but circuitry and computer chips could still explain number two, and Betty was nearly sure that's what it was.
She would have much preferred to have Amanda sneering at her. At least Amanda's bark was worse than her bite. Looked as if Mercy Grave's bark was her bite and that was a bit worrying. Her distasteful looks down her nose to Betty were much harder than the ones Amanda had ever managed to muster up, and Mercy didn't have an excitable, if not loveable, well dressed queer boy toy to temper her. At least Betty didn't think Lex Luthor was an excitable, well dressed, queer boy toy. Well dressed, yes, but not gay (as far as she knew), and no one's toy. He seemed a bit too arrogant for that title.
Yet for some reason the comparisons to Amanda kept flying into Betty's head. Despite Mercy's resemblance in temper to the catty Mode receptionist, Betty was still on her best behavior.
"Would you like a cookie?" she offered. The plate of chocolate chip cookies on her desk were from home; a cooking experiment by her nephew, Justin, that had turned out surprisingly well. Even Alfred had complimented them earlier that morning when he'd stepped in briefly with Bruce. It hadn't seemed like he was trying to be polite, which was sometimes the case as Alfred was not one for rudeness.
Betty held the plate out to Mercy Graves, knowing that if she was anything like the girls at Mode it would be another, 'well, more for me' moment of rejection. "They're homemade."
Mercy said nothing, nor did she seem to give two shakes about the offer. Betty placed the plate back on her desk and pushed her glasses upon her nose. "Okay, well, feel free to have a seat like I said. And, oh, I have a diet coke if you'd like one." She paused a moment and frowned. "Or diet sprite. Either way, it's diet." Not that she was insinuating anything. Betty realized what her statements sounded like and blushed thoroughly, but didn't open her mouth to apologise once she saw the look on Mercy's face.
Mercy the Murderess had a nice ring to it. The woman really did look like she could knock a quarterback out with a spoon if she put enough effort into it.
"No." Betty jumped in surprise when Mercy actually opened her mouth and words came out. Words that sounded decidedly human and feminine. Betty glanced at Mercy curiously, but did not make her observations known. That couldn't have ended well.
Mercy's glare continued to be stony and as she reached for one of her nephew's creations, Betty found herself missing the (ridiculing) company of Amanda and Mark.
The two women sat in silence for nearly a quarter of an hour, though it was no fault of Betty's. Once it became clear that Mercy did not desire to engage in small talk the younger girl simple stopped trying and turned back to her computer screen all the while praying that something to keep her busy would magically appear. She clicked open her mail account, but found it devoid of anything besides junk mail and a few things which she needed to talk directly to Bruce about, and of course, she couldn't very well do that while he was meeting with Mercy's boss. Betty left the box open a few more second as she munched on her cookie, hoping that a piece of mail would ding in. That the phone would ring. Anything to interrupt the tension Mercy was laying thickly throughout the room. It was like she'd infected her own little corner of the room and was trying to slowly infect everyone else, Betty thought bitterly.
She considered it something of a blessing when the ornate wooden door to Bruce's office opened and both he and Mr. Luthor emerged. Betty wasn't sure if either of them looked particularly happy, but was distracted from that thought when Mercy moved from her little corner. She did it in such a way that made Betty flinch and her heart rate increase by a good three beats per second. She was more convinced now, upon seeing her move, that the woman was likely one of those secret super soldiers the government would never admit to having. And that was only if she was human in the first place.
Mercy moved to Mr. Luthor's side like a cat to milk. Upon second examination Betty decided that Lex Luthor had no similarities to Mark whatsoever. Luthor was well dressed yes, but he lacked that certain flamboyant flare which Mark pulled off so wonderfully. She found herself missing that, not to mention his smug , self-satisfied smirk (which Mr. Luthor had as well, but again it was missing Mark's touch). It was odd, really, for Betty to realize how much she thought about her friends (or acquaintances, as they were) from Mode. It wasn't that she felt there had to be comparisons between everyone she'd met in Gotham and those she'd met in New York, she just couldn't help making them. Perhaps it was just her way of coping with the way things had turned out.
Alfred, for instance, had become someone akin to Christina, Wilhelmina's seamstress, always there for a kind word and pleasing to the ear with what Betty considered an awesome accent. Betty didn’t think that Alfred knocked them back after hours like Christina did, and she couldn't talk to him about the men in her life (nil, at this point) but when it came to friends at work, Betty took what she could get.
This wasn't to say that her new boss wasn't friendly. Bruce was, in his own way. Betty had no complaints. He'd warmed to her good deal faster than Daniel had (not that that was a slight against Daniel, but it had probably helped that Bruce hadn’t been hoping to sleep with her before he'd even met her) and honestly he seemed to be a decent human being… in the few ways that young male billionaires could be. Still, the man asked after her family each day and had remembered the names of her father, sister, and nephew from day one, so he was good in Betty's books. He didn't remind her of anyone from Mode, Bruce. He was little like Daniel, Alexis, Wilhelmina, or Bradford. The only similarity Betty could see between her old boss and her one were their playboy ways. But even in that, Bruce seemed to be a bit… subtler. Betty didn't worry for Bruce the way she had Daniel. Granted, she'd only been at WayneTech a few months yet, but she just didn't see herself needing to worry for him, and it wasn't because she didn't care.
"Betty?"
Forced out of her thoughts by Bruce's voice, Betty started and glanced up from her computer screen, it appeared that she ad opened the date planner but couldn't remember what for. She adjusted her glasses and pushed hair from her face as she looked at Bruce. "I'm sorry, what date was that?" she asked hurriedly.
From aside Lex, Mercy smirked.
"December 18th. Lex's gala for the orphanage."
"December 18th, 2007?" She asked, aware of how ridiculous the question might have sounded, but you never knew with these people. These things were sometimes scheduled years in advance.
Mercy smirked again from her place beside Lex. Betty kept herself from sighing.
Bruce nodded shortly. "2007."
"Right." Betty said quickly. She looked back at the screen and began typing. She could feel Mercy's taunting eyes on her as she worked and was only too glad when Bruce walked back over towards Lex and began leading both him and Mercy -thank God-towards the door.
"I look forward to it," Bruce was saying as he shook Lex's hand.
Lex simply nodded. "Of course," he said, the chip of entitlement obviously very heavy upon his shoulders. "Come along, Mercy."
Betty had never been more glad to see two people leave a room. But she refrained from voicing that opinion as well, even though as soon as the door closed behind them she felt as if breathing miraculously became easier.
"So he talked you into going?" Betty asked, looking up at her boss.
"In a manner of speaking-may I?" When she nodded Bruce took one of the cookies from her desk. At least some people appreciated good food. "Do you have a ball gown?"
Betty could tell from the look on Bruce's face that he was very much not surprised when she shook her head, indicating the negative. The same answer would have given anyone at Mode a heart attack. "Do I… need one?"
"The gala is a black tie event." He made it sound like such an everyday thing. "So you'll need a ball gown."
"I will?" One didn't have to listen closely to hear the note of 'please, God, let him be joking' manifest in her voice.
Bruce nodded. "You can consider it a company expense." He paused, a half smile touching his lips. "You've got nearly six months. Isn't that how long is usually takes women?"
Well, Betty had to admit, he did have a point. That was six months to find a dress, cut back on carbs, join a gym, force her hair to grow in gorgeous flowing layers, stop biting her nails, get a pedicure, tweeze her-
Six months to buy a dress. She had to stop there before the hyperventilating started.
That was much less dizzying. Not to mention plausible. But even with things seeming plausible there was still a matter she couldn't figure. "Rachel isn't able to go?" Betty asked.
"You mean, why do I want you to go?"
Ah, obviously not as subtle as she'd thought. Betty found herself blushing. "That too, yes."
Bruce chuckled and Betty was reminded that even the smallest of laughs could sound a bit odd coming from the lips of Bruce Wayne. She had the feeling he didn't do it much at all. "I thought maybe you'd have fun." When he chuckled again she could only assume the look on her face hadn't yet turned from absolute horror.
"Truth be told, I need you there in a more official capacity," he said finally and Betty relaxed a bit. Official she could do. There was no problem with official. She'd still have to find a dress, but official meant less awkward small talk with people she didn't know and didn't care to know her. She was awkward enough on her own, thanks. "We'll talk details once the date becomes closer."
"Alright," Betty said; she was already typing notes for herself to that she wouldn't forget. "Anything else?"
"Not at the moment." Bruce neatly sidestepped the chair sitting next to her desk on the way back to his office, grabbing another of her nephew's creations as he did. He paused only as the cookie was on its way towards his lips. "Actually, put in a call to the Daily Planet. Please."
She nodded, reaching for the phone. "The Metropolis offices? Who do you want?"
"Clark Kent and I'll take it in my office," he said. With that and a short nod of thanks, Bruce disappeared behind his office doors. Betty's outer quarters fell suddenly silent beside the occasional 'whrr' from her computer.
Betty found that, for the moment anyway, this was how she preferred it.