Poker Face | Bruce Wayne

fourty four

Meredith wrapped her hair up in a fluffy white towel, sighing in relief as steam rolled off of her skin.

She had finally picked up the glass, rewrapped her foot, and shrugged on a black robe. The room looked pristine once more, her swollen wrist being the only reminder that the Dark Knight had paid her a visit.

Meredith sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the cream-colored wall across from her.

Strangely enough, out of everything she could have possibly been thinking, there was only one question at the front of her mind: what were her parents going to think?

Her phone buzzed again on her nightstand. She hadn't even looked at it yet, and she doubted she wanted to.

Meredith sighed. Should she even tell her parents about the plan?

She supposed she had to— there was no way after the shitshow that happened with Bruce and literally hating him for the last twenty years that they were going to believe she and Bruce were actually in love, or something like that.

Her mother would think Meredith was crazy, but would most likely get over it because the woman loved Bruce like her own son and most likely still did. Her father, on the other hand...

Suddenly, Meredith was picking up her phone, ignoring the nearly one hundred missed calls from just about everyone in her contact list, and dialing a number.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

"Elias!" a voice drawled. "How nice of you to finally call back."

"It's done," Meredith said.

"What exactly is done?"

"He believes me. He said he'll do it."

"I always knew Loverboy had a soft spot for you."

"Yeah. Whatever. I'm going now—"

"How did you convince him?"

"Does it matter?"

A pause.

"I suppose not— I'm sure I don't want to hear the details. Well, if you need me, you know where to find me. Perhaps you'd like to come over at some point soon to discuss—"

"No. Bye, Luthor."

Meredith ended the call and sighed again.

She thought about the way Bruce kissed her wrists— kissed her. He was the biggest fool. Then again, if she thought about the situation she had gotten herself into, she supposed she was, too.

She groaned in frustration as she scrolled through the list of missed calls, most of which featured her parents, Devin, and about thirty calls from Lois alone.

Meredith stared at the other woman's name— the reporter was probably losing her mind.

Well, Meredith had to start somewhere.

She hit the call button.

* * *

"Are you crazy, Meredith?!"

Meredith sighed for the umpteenth time, slowing down the car to a stop. "I know—"

"You know?! Then why the hell are you marrying the guy?! Weren't you just freaking out not even two weeks ago because you found out he was a vigilante?"

Meredith put the car in park, noticing a man appear right in front of her hood, dressed in blue and red. She hesitated. "It's just... complicated, Lo. Hey, I gotta go. I need to be at the League meeting in ten."