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This World is Not a Conclusion	By : JaneKrahe Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 3439 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Batman series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Harvey Dent strode through the halls of the Thirteenth Precinct. He liked to stride. He had a strong gait, and he knew it. He felt it projected his power and importance. He walked with his head high, his shoulders straight, proud and confident.

He watched as the black-uniformed men moved out of his path, mixed looks of disgust and envy on their faces. He reveled in their jealous hate of him. He didn’t care that he’d made so many enemies when working for Internal Affairs. His father had always told him, “It’s not worth doing if no one hates you for it.”

The office he was heading for was in the Homicide department. He’d been genuinely surprised when Barbara Gordon was made Gotham’s first full-time profiler. It wasn’t the advent of the position; in a city as bad as Gotham, it was a wonder they hadn’t thought of having an in-house profiler before. No, he’d been surprised because he’d read Barbara’s psych profile, had understood that she was not cut out for police work.

Pays to be the commissioner’s daughter.

With a jolt that nearly broke him out of step, he remembered that he and Barbara had once been engaged. He glanced down at his hand, where a simple silver ring used to sit. The whole situation still baffled him, nearly a year later. He’d done everything right; he was an up and coming lawyer who’d just been made Gotham’s youngest ever District Attorney. She was the daughter of the commissioner, a prodigy, solving crimes by the age of eighteen. She was beautiful, he was handsome. They were a perfect match. Everyone had been happy for them, especially her father.

But then….

It disgusted Harvey to see her wearing that madman’s scars so proudly, flaunting bruises and scrapes the way most women flaunted flowers and jewels. It had to be her mother’s fault. Without a strong mother in her life, she didn’t really know *how* to be a woman. It was sad, really. A waist of such potential.

He came to her door, then, and knocked, ignoring that nagging regret in the back of his mind.

He was Harvey Dent.

He regretted nothing.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Barbara sighed and rested her head in her hands. For several shining moments, she’d believed that she would end this monster. Then Eric had shattered it, had told her that the monster HAD been ended, in a fire-fight with his father and six other officers.

Eighteen years ago.

There was a knock on the door, and Barbara immediately knew it was Harvey. Only he could make something as simple as a knock sound so… pretentious. “Come in,” Barbara said.

Harvey never walked, he *strode*. Which he did then, right into the room, dropping a file onto her desk. “I have a lead,” he said to her, his hands on his hips.

Barbara smiled slightly. “It wouldn’t be a serial killer from about twenty years ago named Victor Zsasz, would it?”

Harvey’s self-important expression faltered. “How did you - ?”

“I … have a friend,” Barbara replied. “I already looked into it. Victor Zsasz was killed in a stand-off with police eighteen years ago. So, we’re probably dealing with a copy-cat.”

Harvey just stood there, looking… annoyed.

Barbara smiled. “I’ve already started working on the profile.” It was a lie, but it was worth it to see the look on Harvey’s face.

“And who’s this… friend of yours?” Harvey asked. He crossed his arms over his chest. She knew he thought this made him more intimidating, and to someone else, it might. But she was with a man far more dangerous than Harvey Dent could ever dream. The D.A. certainly didn’t scare her. “Do I know him?” Harvey asked.

“You’ve met,” Barbara replied. “Now, Dent, if that’s all, I really need to get back to this profile. It’s kind of important.”

Harvey’s face darkened. He swooped down, his hands slamming down onto her desk. Barbara jumped, shocked at his sudden change. “Listen to me, you little slut,” Dent snarled, “you may think you’re hot shit with your fancy new title and six-figure salary, but some of us didn’t need Daddy to get us ahead in life, and some of us don’t need to screw a maniac just to feel something. So if you think you’re better than ANYONE in this city, you’re dead wrong.”

Barbara’s blood ran cold. She stood, and watched Harvey straighten, a smug look spreading across his face. “It must burn your ass to loose someone like me to someone like him, doesn’t it?” she asked, her words dropping from her lips like chunks of ice. “Must drive you nuts knowing a woman would prefer a ‘maniac’ to you. But see, Harvey,” she leaned in her voice lowering, “some men don’t *need* to hit women to feel manly.” She stood up straight and crossed her arms, glaring at the shock on Harvey’s face. “You can leave my office now, Dent,” she said coldly. “Lucky for me, I don’t work for you.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Erik slipped in the door of Barbara’s apartment. The lights were off, but he could tell from the uneven breathing coming from the bedroom that she wasn’t asleep yet. He was glad. He’d been afraid that the whole Zsasz thing had put her off, and she wouldn’t want to see him for awhile. After all, for a short time, she’d thought he was serial killer.

He moved towards the bedroom, his body full of a grace he never saw in himself. She lay on the bed on her stomach, in a sports bra and underwear, her hair spread on the pillow, so fiery in the half light. Her skin glowed, and Erik just stood there, basking.

She stirred and looked over. Erik tensed. Her green eyes found him the darkness. And she smiled. He let out a deep breath and walked forward, relieved at her reaction.

It had been almost a year since they met, a year since they first felt that instant heat, that strange fire that held them together. Some might call it love. He only did when at his weakest, his most vulnerable. At any other time, he refused to look at it too closely. Like a wonderful dream, he was terrified it would fade if examined in too much detail. So, he let it be - whatever it was.

Erik sat on the bed as Barbara turned over, brushing her hair out of her eyes. He watched her, her pale skin, her glowing eyes, half open, her lips so full and soft. Her beauty hurt to look at.

She lifted a hand, ran her fingers down his bare face. They traced his scars, ran across his mouth, down his neck to his chest.

Erik shivered. Her skin was so soft, it was like he was being caressed by a phantom. He leaned down and kissed her, and the kiss was so gentle he could almost feel her surprise.

For some reason he couldn’t explain, in that moment Erik didn’t want pain. He didn’t want blood. He didn’t want violence. He wanted comfort. He’d never felt such a need for softness as he did then. His whole life had been hard, carved from marble. And in him now was an inexplicable craving for silk.

Erik kissed Barbara again, lying down next to her on the bed. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and he breathed in her scent. She smelled almost as good as she tasted. His lips found the pulse in her throat, his tongue feeling the hot beat of her heart. She shivered, and he pulled her close, an irrational desire to keep her warm suddenly filling him. One of her hands ran through his hair as he kissed her lips again, reveling in the feel of her tongue on his.

Barbara pushed him away, then sat up, and removed her sports bra. Her breast were like pale, ripe fruit in the dim light. Erik grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back down. All he wanted was the feel of her underneath him. He rolled over so that he was on top of her, settled between her legs.

Barbara laughed. “What?” Erik asked.

“You’re getting a little ahead of yourself,” she said. “Not much you can do from here with all those clothes on.”

Erik laughed as well, feeling like a fool. He got off the bed. He pulled of his shirt and vest. His hands went the button of his pants - but Barbara beat him there. Her nimble fingers undid the button, then slid down the zipper. She pulled them down, underwear and all, revealing his arousal.

Barbara got on her knees on the bed. She took hold of Erik around the base of him. She looked up at him, pure lust in her poisonous green eyes. It made it hard for Erik to breath. Barbara bent down and slid her lips over him.

Erik bit his lip and threw his head back, losing himself to the pleasure of it. Barbara teased the tip of her tongue down the underside of him, causing him to cry out. She smiled, then completely enveloped him in her mouth, hot and wet, and almost too much for him. She began moving, in and out, and Erik felt heat building in him. She sucked, hard, and it was too much. Erik pushed her away, gasping.

Before she could react, he swooped down and caught her lips with his. Tasting himself on her was thrilling, and he pushed her onto her back. All that separated them was thin layer of cotton. And then, suddenly, it wasn’t there anymore. Erik was vaguely aware of the sound of cloth ripping, but he was too busy to think about it. He pushed her further back on the bed, settling himself on top of her again. He kissed her, slow and unhurried, his hands wandering over her firm breasts. Her own hands slid down his back, gripped his ass. She pulled his hips against hers.

Erik smiled against her lips, his eyes closed. Demanding girl. He slid inside her, so slowly that she ground her hips, trying to speed him up. He shook his head and hissed, “Behave.”

She laughed again, and he began long, slow thrusts, sliding in and out. She was tight, but wet, and so hot, scalding, burning, and the feel of her under him was so good. She grabbed him across the back, and her breath was in his ear, encouraging him, saying things like, “Harder,” and moaning in that delicious way she had. That familiar heat began to build in him again, and he lost some of his slow control. Her nails dug into his back, and it drove him further, closer to that white hot edge. “Oh, god,” she moaned, her voice low and husky in his ear. “Erik, I love you.”

God, he couldn’t handle it, those words sent him plummeting, and he came hard and hot, her body following him, she was screaming, squeezing around him, extending his orgasm, so he felt it might never end.

It did end, however, and he lay, gasping and shuddering, his arms wrapped around her, his face buried in her hair. As his body stilled, he felt a wave of emotion, stronger than he knew he was capable of. His eyes filled with tears, and he gripped her closer, trying to hide it. Control yourself, Joker, Erik said to himself, but he couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried. He couldn’t erase what she’d just said.

“Erik?” Barbara whispered, her voice still that lovely rasp. “Erik, what’s wrong?”

There was so much concern in her voice, it made his chest hurt. Tears spilled down his face and into her hair, and a quiet sob shook his frame. Barbara’s hands caught his face and she lifted it up, searching it with her green eyes. “What’s wrong?” she demanded. Her bottom lip began to quiver. “Did I do something wrong?” she asked, her voice suddenly small.

Erik gasped, trying to gain some control. “God, no,” he said, his surprise at her question giving him a chance to recover. “No, Barbara, you…” he sighed, wiping the tears from his eyes. He took a deep, shaking breath, then said, “I’m fine; it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, Erik,” she said. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Erik shook his head; he realized then that he was still inside her. He pulled away, then laid back on the bed, resting his head on the pillows.

Barbara snuggled up next to him. He put an arm around her shoulders, and she laid a hand on his chest. After several moments of silence, Barbara said, “I’m not letting it go.”

Erik sighed. He knew it wouldn’t be that easy. That was what he loved about her. There was that word again. He stared at the ceiling. Barbara waited. She knew he was just trying to gather his thoughts. She could be incredibly patient when she wanted to be.

Finally, he thought he had it. “You said something just now,” he began slowly, “that I’ve only heard one other time from you. And then, I thought you were asleep; I thought you didn’t mean it. Barbara, the last woman who said that to me… I watched her die. They were her last words. I never thought I‘d hear them again.” He turned and looked her in the eyes. They glittered with unshed tears. He took a deep breath, readying himself for what he felt needed to be said, readying himself for the words that terrified him. They came in a rush. “God, I love you so much, Barbara,” Erik said, tears filling his eyes again, “so much that it hurts. You are all I ever think about; I’m terrified to lose you. I’ve never been this scared before. Ever.” The tears fell, and Erik hated himself for his weakness. But now, it was okay to hate himself, because there was someone that didn’t hate him, someone who could love him even when he didn’t. “Please, don’t ever leave me, Barbara, I would die, I can’t -” Erik choked up, then, and couldn’t continue.

He closed his eyes, waiting for her reaction. There was silence for a long time. Then, he felt her lips on his. Erik opened his eyes, and saw Barbara, tears wet on her beautiful face, smiling at him in the darkness. “I love you,” she said, slowly, deliberately. “And I will always be here for you. Always.”

*************

Hey, there, kiddos, sorry it took me so long. I had a case of writer's block, but I think I'm over it now (fingers crossed!) Hope you enjoy this chapter! I'm working on number 4 as you read this!! Please review!!

Loves muches and bunches,
Jane Krahe
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This World is Not a Conclusion