White Queen to Black Knight Chapter 05
I live my life for you
Think all my thoughts with you and only you
Anything you ask I do for you
In the Lap of the Gods, Queen
It took her a little longer than half an hour to get ready but finally she was headed down the stairs to the kitchen. She had on a tight greenish cut off tank top with flaming skull and crossbones on it, very low rider faded blue jeans, an Ed Hardy belt buckle with the word Trust emblazoned in crystals, well worn flip flops and her signature Ed Hardy sunglasses with crystal dragons on either side. They were ostentatious to the max and she adored them.
She flip flopped her way into the kitchen, stopping whatever conversation was going on there. Both Alfred and Bruce looked stunned at her attire. She immediately went on the defensive. “What? I told you I hadn’t brought clothes for hanging out with the local playboy. If what I have on wasn’t so expensive, I might even be seen as white trash. But this is what I got. I can do this without you, Bruce. Let me borrow your SUV and I’ll be back in a while.”
“You look hot, Alina. You’d look like trailer trash if you had on high heels, the flip flops make it perfect. Eat something before we go. Alfred made a nice Waldorf salad for us.” She looked at him skeptically as if she thought he was humoring her. “And I have everything arranged for tomorrow with Gordon. Tonight over dinner, the three of us should figure out what you are going to wear.”
She joined them at the table drinking a large glass of ice water and eating the salad. She really was quite hungry after their earlier amusements. Packing her stuff seemed like a drudgery task, but had to be done and she could not allow anyone else to take care of it.
“Why should there be concern over what I wear? While I am not currently dressed for discretion, the rest of the time you have seen me I was.”
“You look great all the time. I just want as much of you covered as possible, the hair worn up, the tattoos covered.”
“Why? You love my hair, and I didn’t think my tats were a problem. They are tasteful and meaningful.”
“You are right. I could drown in your hair, and that bloody scent of flowers I can’t get out of my nose. But we cannot give Joker even a whiff of that or he will never let you go. You use my soap and shampoo tomorrow or something else plain. And your tats, the ones I’ve seen I don’t care about. They are beautiful and perfect for you. But that, like your hair, like your perfume will just give the Joker more to obsess on and place you in more danger while you are with him in his cell and if he were to escape, which is a constant threat, he would make a bee line for you. Harvey, I am less concerned with. You look nothing like Rachel, so he will be less likely to obsess on you but he is constantly pushing the limits. While I don’t think Joker is actually crazy, Harvey is which makes him even less predictable, if that were possible.”
Alina knotted her eyebrows, furrowing her brows, thinking about how much really did need to be considered. She had always done this in past shoots. She wasn’t sure why this time she hadn’t considered it. Perhaps it was not being alone anymore, she was becoming less attentive to the dangers she faced. Perhaps it was just being stateside once again that gave her a greater sense of relief.
Alfred saw her starting to distance herself and asked, “Is there anything I should know about what you eat or don’t eat? I was starting to plan our dinner tonight.”
“Alfred, that is so sweet of you to ask. I have eaten God knows what over a fire in bush country, and scrabbled by on seeds and berries in other places. Some places there simply was nothing because we were too high in the Himalayas. And then I’ve also eaten at the finest French and Italian restaurants. England, I’m sorry to say Alfred, had nothing to recommend itself cuisine-wise except its quite exceptional Indian food. So, I guess I’m saying I’m game for anything once, but don’t be offended if I don’t eat it. I ate some terrible stuff and have become quite picky if anything stateside reminds me of those dreadful meals, if you could call them that.”
“Surpassing English cuisine is an easy task, as is I’m sure whatever one would eat in the bush of Africa. French and Italian restaurants are difficult to compete with, but I shall try. You two enjoy your outing. Do try to stay out of trouble. You both seem destined for it to find you.” The young, very attractive couple smiled at Alfred and wandered off to the biggest SUV Bruce had.
Alina laughed when she walked into the 15 car garage. He owned everything from vintage cars and motorcycles to your basic fully loaded Chevy Denali to the Lamborghini of course. She started to say something about a boy and his toys, but thought there were probably quite a few more toys present somewhere and she’d save the quip for then.
Soon they were parking in front of the Gotham Towers. Bruce just left his Denali parked under the veranda right at the front door, despite it clearly not being a parking area but a loading and unloading zone. He grabbed two bellboys with carts and asked them quite politely to follow them upstairs. They had some packing to do, it could take a while. Alina stopped by the front desk while Bruce waited with the carts to let them know she was checking out today and could they run her bill up and bring it to her room so she could pay for it. She of course was extremely nice to them all and then turned and walked over to Bruce who took her hand in his and led the way to the elevators.
As soon as the carts were in the room and the bellboys had been tipped $100 a piece, the door closed and Alina sighed. “Bruce, they are all going to think I am your bimbo of the week, moving in, thinking I’m staying, but you’ll throw me out in a week and I’ll be back. I can practically hear the gossip up here.”
“Well, we both know none of it is true, so why do you care what the clerks or bell boys think? You could buy this hotel in an afternoon, fire everyone and start over.”
“But you already own it don’t you?”
“Yeah, you would have to negotiate with me over the hotel, the equipment, the fine paintings in every room, the beds.” His insinuation clear in his tone as well as his words.
“You already struck out twice today big boy. You tease me again like that I might have to hurt you, again.” She smirked at him as she headed to the bedroom to begin packing. Unaware he was even doing it, he followed her and out of a need for something to do started opening drawers. He had unintentionally hit pay dirt as he lifted the most exquisite crème silk nightgown he had ever seen out of the drawer. The entire gown was silk satin and the back laced up like a corset from the lowest place on a woman’s back to what looked to finish at the shoulder blades.
Alina walked out of the bath area and saw Bruce standing there with a distant odd look on his face. “Bruce, what is it baby? Do you like it?”
“It still has the price tag on it. You have never even worn it. Will you wear it for me?” He looked suddenly vulnerable to her. Alina walked towards him slowly, lifting the expensive and beautiful gown out of his hands. She neatly folded it and placed it in the suitcase. He had watched every move.
Alina turned and faced him, “When the time comes Bruce, and both of you are ready for me to be in your life in that way, I will wear it for you. Until then, it will stay in a drawer. I will not wear it for anyone except you.”
She went to him and took his hand and led him out of the bedroom. She handed him a stack of photograph books and several larger books that documented her journey. She put her hands on either side of his face, drawing his eyes to hers. “You might find these of interest. The larger books hold my masterpieces, the photographs to be published. The smaller books are just photographs of the people, the animals, the joy and the fear of my journey. No less interesting I think, but not especially art either. I will finish packing.” While she still held his eyes and his face, she reached up to his soft, delicate lips and kissed him gently then she returned to the bedroom to continue packing.
Several hours later everything was complete. She had emptied the safe and triple checked it, checked the bath, under the bed, in every drawer. She was leaving nothing behind. She had more memory treasures packed then clothes Bruce realized as he had looked around. She had carvings from Africa, blessed Budda beads from the Himalayas, a sword from a special place high in the mountains, gifts to her from others all over the world. Bruce recognized the sword immediately from his own journey and was shocked to see Alina had found herself there as well and learned the same lessons. They would make a good team, in and out of bed, in and out of costume. This had all been meant to be, the sword was his proof.
Using his authoritarian voice, he called for three bell boys to come help with the luggage. They were finally ready to go. While he had been absorbed in her photographs, she had changed clothes into something she was more comfortable in, and something she felt was more appropriate to be seen with him in. She had on crème linen pants, matching shoes, and a sheer crème blouse with pearl buttons loosely done with a lace corset clearly visible underneath. Her hair flowed around her and once he looked up from her photos to look at her, he could hardly remove his eyes from her. She was unaware she was being watched because she was double checking she wasn’t leaving anything, but turned towards him when she heard his voice asking for the bellboys. Bruce hung up the phone and walked towards her, his long stride reaching her in seconds. He buried his hand in her scented hair, pulling her head back, exposing her neck to him. He could see her pulse beating in her carotid artery, and could feel her breath speeding up. He brought his lips to hers, demanding, powerful, relentless in his desire for entrance. She spread her lips, just like she knew she would spread everything else for this man. He entered her mouth, ravaging it with his tongue, his hands ravaging her body through her clothes. Even knowing the busboys were seconds away, their mouths locked together, he reached his free hand through the opening in her blouse and scooped her breast out, breaking his mouth away from hers and replacing it on her nipple. His tongue roughly licked the nipple and then he began to suckle. She could hardly breathe at this point, and had to be wet enough to at the very least be uncomfortable and at the worst stain her pants with her wetness. She could feel Bruce painfully hard as well. She heard the bellboys arriving and she yanked herself away from him, unwillingly and painfully.
“I told you not to tease me again today Bruce.” Alina turned and walked into the bathroom to readjust her clothing and clean herself up. She removed the excess wetness, repaired her lipstick, fixed the corset and adjusted her blouse. A flip of her hair and no one would know she had just been in yet another of Bruce Wayne’s teasing passions.
She walked out of the room with one final look around, checked that her photography books were accounted for, walked past the bellboys with a cool “Gentlemen,” and headed to the elevator without looking back. Bruce caught up with her but just walked quietly beside her, not talking and not touching her. The elevator arrived at the lower floor finally and while she wasn’t sure anyone else could smell it, and maybe it was just her imagination, she thought they reeked of sex, unfulfilled sex, but sex just the same.
She dismissed Bruce, an uncommon event if there ever was one, with a brief “I’ll meet you at the car Bruce. I’ll settle my bill.” And turned and walked to the front desk. Turns out, since he owns the place, he had already handled it, which just pissed her off more. She was completely capable of paying her own bills. She had nearly as much money as he did. After all, once one got past a billion dollars, who’s counting?
The three bellboys were loading the car, but Bruce had thoughtfully placed the photographs, all of them, in the passenger seat where she could carry them in her lap. She sat silently looking through one of the random books full of memories. She realized he must have had similar journeys in becoming Batman, but could not document those. No one could ever know about his other side. She felt like she was getting involved in some sort of threesome, but with only two people. She laughed softly to herself, of course that would only happen to her. She could tell, even without the costume she had never seen, who was kissing her. The hotel room had been Batman, the elevator had been Batman, the dojo had been Bruce. She wondered if he even knew it himself.