Happy 1st(ish) birthday to the best guy in my life 💕 #dogsofinstagram #birthday #1ish
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Happy 1st(ish) birthday to the best guy in my life 💕 #dogsofinstagram #birthday #1ish

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WayneManor. 1ish. Visitors.
Climbing out one of the windows in Wayne Manor isn't as hard as one might think. Needless to say, I make it to the ground and I'm sneaking around to the front, gun ready to shoot. "Hold right there." I say, stopping the two figures from coming any closer to the manor. "Lenore?" One of them asks, raising his hands over his head. I squint.
"Gordon?" Walking forward, gun still trained on the two of them, I find a distraught Gordon staring at me in confusion. "Oh, god, I'm sorry." I put the gun back on safety and drop it to my side, a wee bit embarrassed. "Where's your bodyguards?" He asks kindly. "Asleep, I think. Jet lag. Sorry...my instincts got the better of me. The paparazzi knew I was here, so I assumed it had already been on the news. You never can be too careful." My eyes slide to the figure next to him curiously. "Good evening." I say quietly. I can tell he's upset. I can also tell that he's staring at me. "Evening." He says, seemingly in a daze.
"Come on, let's get the both of you inside." I use the secret key under the plants to unlock the front door. Leading them in, I keep looking at the boy. There's something wrong with him. Something definitely wrong. Alfred is coming down the stairs as soon as I get them in the living room followed by Bruce and... Jack. I thought I told him to stay upstairs...? I turn to the kitchen and begin to gather the necessary items to make a pot of tea. Gordon follows as Alfred turns to the boy. "What's happened, Gordy?" I whisper, pouring water in a pot and pushing it on the gas stove to boil. "His parents, Lenore. Do you remember the Flying Graysons?" It had been all over the news the other day. A crime boss, Maroni, I think, had hired some cronies to cut the wires which held the acrobats. Red, Jokes and I don't really pay too much attention to what the Mob is doing. Our reasons for hating Batman are different than the Mob's. Bruce walks over to join us, then, leaving Alfred to speak with the boy. I bite my lip. "Was he...." "Their son. Yes." Suddenly, visions of my mother invade my mind and I grip the marble counter, forcing myself not to go under. I grit my teeth and attempt to steady my breathing. A strong arm makes its way around my waist, pulling me back to reality. It's Jack. He must have noticed that I was about to have one of my PTSD visions. He turns to Bruce and says quietly, “The boy needs a place to stay. Not only that, but also some decent company.” Then his tone becomes even more hushed. “Since his parents… Since the accident, a fire’s lit that boy’s eyes, and it’s dangerous.” “I understand.” Says Bruce. The pot whistles, interrupting the lull of conversation. I take that as my cue to leave the two men to speak in the kitchen about the boy alone. I slide the pot off the stove and fix the whole room a cup of tea, whether they want it or not. British hospitality. Pulilng Jack behind me, I bring Alfred and the boy a cup. After Jack and I have served everyone a cup, we go to sit at the end of the couch next to the boy. Red enters the room. She has major sex hair, I notice. But, as now is not the time for snide remarks, I take a sip of my tea, hiding my smile. I can already tell...the evening is going to be long.
WayneManor. 1ish. JackandMe.
Jack slides his arm around my waist toward the end of the evening when Bruce heads off with Renee. "Anywhere to get away in here?" He whispers gently in my ear, his breath tickling my skin. I raise an eyebrow. This is Bruce's mansion we're talking about. Of course there's a place to get away here. I smirk and slide my fingers down his arm to his fingertips, pulling him gently behind me. Actually, a long time ago, Bruce took me down one of these very hallways. It was a drunk moment of foolish idiocy which we never discuss. Alfred knows, though. And he makes snide comments all the time. Subtle ones, true, but snide. We end up heading straight up to my bedroom. Turns out Jack is bunking with me. Once we make our way into the room, he gets all excited and I turn around and place my hand on his chest. "Let me set some house rules. I won't go any farther than a kiss with you, okay? I'm not ready for an intimate relationship right now." His face falls a little bit, but he doesn't seem too upset. "Fair enough. But we can sleep in the same bed, right?" My eyes narrow. "No funny business." With a smirk he says, "I'm sure you've thought about me naked."
Pursing my lips, I wind my fingers into his hair. "Maybe, but you still need to respect my decisions." I move away from him, then mumble, "or else you'll never get in my pants." As soon as it's out of my mouth, I regret saying it. "I would love to oblige." He smirks, gently placing his hand on my back, he trails his fingertips down my spine causing me to shiver with anticipation. "Stop that." I say, moving away from his grasp. "I'm sorry." He pouts and goes to sit on the bed. "I'll respect your decisions." "Thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to change." "No excuses needed, lovely." I stop in my tracks. "Pet names? You're really aroused right now, aren't you..." He ignores me and slides off his shirt. I force myself not to look and step behind the screen in our room. Slipping off my dress, I slide into a cozy turtleneck sweater, no pants. Draping the dress over the screen, I walk out to join Jack. "How am I supposed to 'not do funny business' when you're wearing that?" He asks, sprawled out on the bed, being all sexy. "Let's just say it'll be a test of your strength, okay?" "You know what else would be a test of my strength...?" He smirks suggestively. "Respect my requests." My tone is darker. I'm not playing. He gets the message and shoots me an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. Please stay. I'll be good." "Thank you." I slide under the covers next to him, comfortable. He wraps his arm around my waist and holds me close to him, clicking off the light with his free hand. Burying his face in my hair, he trails his fingers around my waist. "You're making this very difficult, you know." I whisper. "Yeah. I know." Silence envelops the room. We're almost asleep when my ears perk up. I hear a commotion outside, then something bangs on the door. Repeatedly. Jack starts to get up, but I force him back down. "Stay here." Pouting, he furrows his brow at me. I plant my lips gently on his mouth, kissing him. "Please," I add. Still a wee bit upset, he salutes, then turns to lay on his stomach, his muscular back rippling seductively.
I slide on some jeans, grab the Akdal Ghost, then head out the door.