MOONLIGHT ↠ B. WAYNE

FIVE

Funerals were never Giselle's thing. She felt awkward at them. Yet after disappearing from her job as a result of recent events, she figured she needed to attend to be able to scrap together an article and save her career. Bruce was kind enough to have had Alfred pick up a dress as well as more of Giselle's belongings for her while he insisted she stay with him.

She now was able to stand in front of the mirror in the guest bedroom to meticulously cover her injury with layer after layer of concealer. After doing her hair with large bouncy curls, the wound was practically unrecognizable.

The last funeral that she had been to was when her father died. It had been six years, yet the loss still stung thinking about her younger self sobbing in front of his casket. At least she did not know the Mayor very well.

It's a very simple, fitted black dress that falls appropriately to mid thigh. The back of the dress is a little low and Giselle struggles to reach the zipper. Frustratedly, she slips on her heels and heads to knock on Bruce's door. Her heart is in her stomach as she knocks.

The door swings open and Giselle has to remember to breathe. He's dressed to the nines in an impeccably sharp black and white tuxedo. Bruce glances down at her, still towering over her despite her heels.

"Er—could you zip me up, please?" Giselle softly asks. He nods and moves so that she can slip into the room.

Her body looks breathtaking, and Bruce's breath catches in the back of his throat as she turns around, arching her back so that he could zip the dress up. With hesitant, fingers, he reaches for the zipper and carefully zips up the dress. The pads of his fingers skim her back as he does so, causing shills to erupt on her spine. Giselle turns around, her lips slightly parted and chin tilted up towards him.

She peers at him through thick lashes as his own eyes flicker down to her soft lips. She's holding a breath she didn't even know she had, and the tension between the two leaves the air thick and almost palpable.

"Thank you," she whispers as his hair falls into his face just slightly.

Giselle is surprised that he can't hear her heart pounding against her ribcage. Then, her boldness takes over for just a moment as she stands on her tiptoes and places her lips onto his. She puts her hands flat upon his chest to hold herself steady.

It takes him a moment, but Bruce finally reacts and parts his lips just enough to kiss her back. The kiss is soft, unsure, and innocent, but its just enough to make Giselle feel dizzy with desire as she pulls away. They're quiet for a moment, staring at one another. Bruce's eyes are swirling like a billion hurricanes all waging war at the same time.

"We should—um, probably get going," she murmurs, finally averting her eyes to the floor.

"Yeah," Bruce states, his tone breathless.

As they exit the bedroom, Alfred is walking by and the ghost of a smirk appears on his lips but quickly is disguised.

"Shall I take this as a good sign?" he questions, clearing his throat.

"What?" Bruce replies bluntly, looking flustered and pale.

"Your attire," Alfred clarifies. "Is Bruce Wayne making an actual appearance?"

"Serial killers like to follow reactions to their crimes. Riddler might not be able to resist,"

"Oh, that reminds me. I've taken the liberty of doing a little work on this latest cipher. The one from the rat maze," declared Alfred, pulling out a photocopy of the card from the Riddler.