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Bruce Wayne/The Batman

Batman Begins/The Dark Knight


"I don't understand."

They stared at each other, one in slight agitation and the other in a subtle amusement, "What is it that you don't understand?" Bruce asked, "I'm not sure if I can make it any clearer than I already have."

"Why did you even bother to hire me?" Harry asked, brushing a hand through his unruly hair in frustration, "You made it quite obvious tonight that you are able to handle yourself just fine."

"I can't exactly use any of my skills to keep the paparazzi away," Bruce shrugged, "One might become too curious and ask why a playboy billionaire knows various forms of martial arts."

"Why do you know various forms of martial arts?" Harry asked, absently crossing his arms over his chest, "And why do you dress as... as a bloody bat of all things!?"

Bruce sighed, leaning back on the expensive leather couch, "I wanted revenge ," He admitted, lowering his eyes from Harry's gaze, "I was weak, so I travelled the world to learn about the criminal world," He could still remember his confrontation with Falcone as clear as glass, "This city was rotten to the core, even more so then it is now. I wanted to change that."

"That doesn't explain the whole bat persona," Harry frowned, "I understand the vigilante bit, but why do you feel the need to dress as a bat?" If he didn't know better, he would have said Wayne was a nutter.

"Bats scare me," Bruce smiled at the man across from him, "Why shouldn't the criminals of Gotham know my fear as well?"

Harry stared at his employer, really unsure what to even say or ask, "This complicates things," He finally said after a few moments of silence, "My job is to protect you. How am I supposed to do that if you're flying around at night fighting shady blokes?"

"Do you worry about my safety that much?" Bruce's smile widened and he placed a hand on his heart, "I am quite touched, Harrison."

Harry flushed against his will at the pleasant and fond expression his boss sent him, "You hired me and I do my job." Well, he was just glad that his voice didn't waver or crack.

"I appreciate it," Bruce nodded his head, recalling what had happened at the restaurant, "Harrison, earlier tonight–"

"Nothing happened," Harry said quickly, too quickly and he cursed himself mentally, "I just... can't say anything." He admitted, feeling a bit guilty for reasons he didn't know because he couldn't tell Bruce just what he was.

"I'm fine with that," Bruce's normal charming smile was back on his face and Harry swiftly looked away, feeling his heartbeat begin to hammer within his chest, "I know there's much in the world that I know nothing of; things that I have yet to uncover."

"For you, it might not be best if it stays that way," Harry murmured, thinking of the scattered Death Eaters still about and what they could potentially do to Bruce for revenge and in the name of their Dark Lord, "But I can't tell you."

Bruce didn't seem too disappointed with the lack of information, "Would you like a drink, Harrison?" He asked, "Tea? Ale?"

Harry let out a sigh, allowing his body to relax, "I would," He glanced up and his lips turned upwards as he felt a mischievous streak run through him that he hadn't felt since his Hogwarts days, "I have a bottle of whiskey and I can say it's bloody brilliant."

Bruce raised his brows and he smirked, "If you say so, then it must be good." He stayed put as Harry quickly moved to his given quarters, grabbing a bottle of Firewhiskey from his meagre belongings that he had brought with him.

"Try this," Harry said, placing the bottle on the sleek coffee table between them, "You can drink from the bottle. There's no need to bother Alfred anymore tonight." He seriously felt for the butler, especially since he had to worry if Bruce would even come home alive every night he went out as Batman.

"Whiskey?" Bruce observed the bottle, before taking a sip and seemed a little surprised, but satisfied at the burning sensation it caused, "Ogden's Old Firewhiskey?" He glanced at the name, "Peculiar."

"You will never come across something like this," Harry smirked, watching as his boss took another swig of the Firewhiskey, "I can say that much."

"Another secret of yours?" Bruce smile, knowing he was more than likely drinking it a little too quickly, but he found he was quite fond of the taste and the feeling it provided.

The silence was rather comfortable and the bottle of Firewhiskey was already half gone before Harry stood up, "It's getting late. You should start to nod off."

"Thank you for this, Harrison." Bruce stood up as well and if Harry wasn't as observant as he was trained to be, he would not have noticed the slight stumble of his boss' footing.

Harry watched as Bruce moved towards him, ready to steady him should he have stumbled again. He didn't expect for the billionaire to place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze, "Mr. Wayne?"

"Sorry for this, Harrison." Bruce murmured and while he was not shy in the very least, he found that he felt much bolder than usual and could only chalk it up to his bodyguard's whiskey.

And in his boldness, he kissed Harry...


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