"This is the walk of shame outfit," Anya complained. "Everyone will know."
Bruce stood just in front of the bed, amused.
Anya stood just outside of the restroom dressed in one of his white dress shirts that reached just passed her thighs.
"I think you look wonderful."
"Of course, you would." She rolled her eyes.
She walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.
He liked this much better than skirting around their feelings.
She pressed a kiss to his lips, and he returned it.
"You could call in," Bruce suggested.
"My patients need me." Anya protested.
"I need you."
"You have Alfred for company."
"I'd prefer you."
It wasn't long before another kiss became much more, and Bruce was attempting to raise the shirt above her head.
Anya pulled away. "I just showered."
"You can shower again," He reasoned.
Anya smirked. Bruce was wearing a white t-shirt and black pants; she was sure she'd never seen him in something so casual.
She let her hands wonder to the hem of his t-shirt. She lifted it.
It was then she saw it.
His pants hung loosely around his waist, allowing a part of his hip to be exposed.
On his hip was a bruise. It was large and yellowing but was still very much visible.
She knew that injury.
She looked up at the rest of his torso. Now that she was really observing the pale skin, she could see bits of discoloration, but still: she tried to rationalize.
There could be an explanation, one that didn't involve the conclusion she'd drawn.
She looked up at his lips.
Below his bottom lip.
A faint scar.
So small you wouldn't have seen it if you weren't specifically looking for it.
"Are you okay?" Bruce asked.
Anya stepped back, letting the shirt drop.
"You're him."
Bruce blinked. "What?"
"You're him," Anya repeated.
"Anya-"
It was as if in that moment, just her name, coming out of his mouth, made the whole thing real - confirmed what she already knew.
"Just sit down," Bruce reasoned as the woman began shrugging on her discarded pants. "Let me explain."
"Something tells me you're not going to be able to explain any of this in a way I'll understand, Bruce. Does Alfred know, or did you lie to him too?"
"I didn't lie to you."
He hadn't - not really.
"Lying by omission, is still lying." She exited the room.
Bruce followed behind her.
"Anya, please."
"I can't do this right now."
"I can explain everything, I promise, just please give me a chance."
Anya turned to face the man. "I kissed him - you." She shook her head. "I have work to do."
The door opened, but she didn't turn to see who the visitor was.
"I'll meet you tomorrow. I can explain everything, I swear."
"I just- I need time, to think. Alone"
She turned back to the door.
Alfred stood, a bag of groceries in hand and a look on his face that told Anya enough about his role in relation to the Batman.
His eyes were pitying and when he met her own, he looked away.
"At least let Alfred drive you home, it's getting dark."
Anya gave the man one more look. "I can take care of myself, Bruce."
The man watched as she exited the manor and waited till her figure blurred in with the surroundings of the distant city.
He closed the door.
Alfred looked at him, eyes questioning, but Bruce simply shook his head and returned to the confines of his office.
Alfred sighed.
He'd really hoped Anya would stay for dinner this time.
___________________________
Author's Note: New chapters soon. - C
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Scars & Hearts: The Batman Fanfiction
Fanfiction"Things were never normal in Gotham. Anya Flores knew this, but finding a masked vigilante knocked out on your fire escape had to be one of the more peculiar things." Anya Flores is a doctor at Gotham General. Growing up in the mean streets of Goth...
