Scars & Hearts: The Batman Fanfiction

Chapter Twenty-One

They sat in the waiting room of the Wayne Foundation's office.

It was on the twenty eighth floor of the Wayne Enterprises building in downtown Gotham.

They were the only two in the large room, besides the receptionist, who was filing her nails, and flipping through the Gotham Gazette.

Anya's leg bounced nervously, Bruce eyed it, an eyebrow raised.

 "I can't get it to stop." She whispered.

Bruce stretched his hand out, placing it on the woman's knee. 

It stopped.

Anya looked down at the man's hand, but otherwise, did not try to move out from under it, which Bruce took as a personal win.

Since their encounter a week and a half before, Bruce had made it his personal mission to display his interest without having to outright say it.

Granted, she had been kissing the Batman, not really him, but the spark: it couldn't be faked.

The feeling, deep in his stomach, he knew she had to have felt it too.

And she'd stopped the kiss.

Not because she didn't like it, but because she felt it was betraying someone else.

He was sure he was that person. He had to be.

Even if he wasn't, this was the end of a long road.

They were finally going to present their idea, and when it got approval, he was sure Anya would return to her usual work, and Dr. Shorts would help head the program.

Who knew if he'd ever see her again in this capacity?

He had to tell her.

He opened his mouth, then closed it.

Just not now.

The phone at the receptionists' table rang, and Anya startled.

Bruce moved his hand from its position.

The receptionist answered, listened, then looked up at the two.

"They're ready to see you now."

***

It was a boardroom much like the ones in the movies.

A large rectangular table with men and women impeccably dressed sitting in large black, leather chairs. The wall furthest from the door was made of a series of windowpanes.

The head of the table was empty. Anya made her way over, but Bruce did not follow.

He was being bombarded by handshakes.

"Mr. Wayne, we were hoping you'd attend one of these meeting eventually."

"Mr. Wayne, my god, do you look like your mother."

"Mr. Wayne. I'm Carl Adler, owner of the Gazette, my daughter, a prima ballerina for the Gotham Ballet Company would love to meet you."

Bruce nodded, mumbling his thanks.

Finally, he sped over to Anya.

They'd given the receptionist their PowerPoint ahead of time. Anya reached into her tote bag and pulled out several copies of the reports they'd drawn up.

Bruce distributed them to half the table receiving many "Thank you's" while Anya, who distributed to the other half, received silence.

The attitude was to be expected.