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Celestial Sensations	By : FireCracker Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 3371 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Batman Franchise or character. Both are properties of DC Comics. No money is made from this fiction.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
CHAPTER FIVE: THE DATE
Bruce was decidedly edgy as Saturday approached. He and Dick talked again about the ramifications of the Stranger’s intrusion into their lives.
Dick glanced up at the wall clock. “A little after ten. So in what, twelve hours you’ll get laid by the Stranger?”
Bruce paced his bedroom, broad shoulders bunched in tension. “Is that supposed to be funny? Maybe I can appeal to his better nature.”
“If he has one.” Dick murmured, sitting on the ottoman. “I don’t know of any way to stop him.”
“I’m out of ideas.”
“Bruce, be honest with me. I don’t care if you think it sounds bad. Do you want him?”
The big man flushed down to his chest. “Why…why do you ask that?”
“Just tell me. There has to be some attraction for this enchantment to work.”
Bruce nodded, glancing away. “Yes, I do. I can’t stop thinking about him. But I don’t know if it’s from me or the enchantment.”
Dick glared up suddenly. “Are you listening? There has to be some feeling for the enchantment to take! He wants you, you want him.”
“But there’s a difference, Dick. He’s in love, I’m not.”
“Not yet.” Bright blue eyes narrowed. “But based on the scope of this spell, there’s a high probability that you will be.” The handsome face dropped. “Where does that leave me?”
“My feelings for you haven’t changed!” Bruce moved to his side and embraced.
“Maybe I should confront him myself.” Dick breathed.
Bruce stroked his hair. “Could it work? I have no idea how he’d react.”
“If he thinks to walk in here and sweep you up uncontested, he’s got another thing coming.”
Bruce kissed him hard. “No wonder you drive me crazy.”
()
Saturday evening had finally arrived.
Alfred laid out his best black “power” suit. Bruce doubted it would give him the intimidation factor he normally exploited in corporate circles. But any psychological boost was a good thing going into the unknown. A silver silk shirt, chrome cufflinks, red kerchief and tie completed the ensemble, making it flashier than usual. Bruce dressed hurriedly, his hands somewhat unsteady.
I’m acting like this is the prom. Calm down, Wayne!
As he stared into the full length mirror, Dick stormed the bedroom in a huff.
“I can’t believe it!”
Bruce turned around. “Dick, what’s going on?”
Dick was still fuming. He’d spent the day lounging around the Manor after their long night together.
“Remember when I told you I’d contact Zatanna again about the Stranger?”
“Yes. What happened?”
“Somehow he knew what was going on and intercepted the call! Zatanna couldn’t get off the line fast enough.”
Bruce was flabbergasted. “Does this ever end? I never know what to expect!”
Dick adjusted his robe and sat on the end of Bruce’s huge bed. “The Stranger said he was aware of my relationship concerns, but is open minded. You’ll be pleased to know he has no problem with our relationship and hope it continues.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Oh, it gets better. In the event I change my mind about having a separate relationship with you, he wants me to know he’s happy to include me. Suitable arrangements could be made to the mutual pleasure of everyone. Are all immortals such asshats?!”
Bruce dropped his hands to his sides. “This day can’t end soon enough.”
“Night. And do you have to look so damn good? Mess up your hair or something.”
“If I thought that would make a difference-“
“Don’t wear any fragrances either. I’m sure the Stranger will be stinking enough for the two of you.”
Bruce erupted in a hearty laugh. “Good one.” He sobered. “Dick, this is bizarre.”
“Yeah, I know. Put your shoes on, will you? They’re over by the glass table.”
“Right.” Bruce picked up the Italian leather crocs. “If there were any other way-“
Dick moved into his arms, pulling the big man into a kiss. “Just remember the original deal. Accept no substitutes.”
“Never.”
()
Bruce sat at a reserved table at the Sweet Peppers restaurant. He was a bit surprised that the Stranger wanted to meet him there instead of riding together. To his amazement, the traffic in Carlisle was relatively light for a Saturday evening. Alfred actually cut their travel time to forty minutes.
Looking about he noticed the ambience of the place. It was reportedly a five star establishment, although Bruce wasn’t especially familiar. The tables were polished verdis marble, a deep green tone. Dark brown travertine tile and columns decorated with vines gave an aura of class. A band on the raised platform played jazz, both classic and contemporary. Simulated candlelight gave the place a cozy, restful atmosphere. Well heeled patrons ordered expensive wine like water while waiters in white tails scuttled everywhere. It was one of the few places Bruce recalled seeing gold tableware.
He was about to order a drink when someone approached. Bruce recognized the type.
Great. This is all I need.
“Mister Wayne, I presume?” A balding, stocky man wearing thick glasses held out a hand in greeting. He appeared to be in his late fifties. An ill fitting seersucker suit pulled tightly across a sizeable gut.
Bruce gave a lukewarm handshake. “And you are?”
“Frank Dodson, Gotham Flip! So what brings you to this establishment? “
“Mr. Dodson, I’m enjoying my weekend. Is there something you want?”
“Hey, I understand. Listen, I was wondering if you’d give me a scoop. Inquiring minds want to know!”
Wolf blue eyes narrowed in annoyance. “What are you talking about?”
“Meeting someone…special?” Dodson raised his voice deliberately. “Or are you pretending not to know most of the clientele here?”
“Do you have a point?”
“Heh.” Dodson pulled out a tablet. “Come on, throw our readers a bone. Gotham’s most eligible bachelor hanging out at an “Open” restaurant? Would you like to make a declaration for the public at this time?”
Bruce glared at the man. “I have no idea where you’re going with this, and I don’t care. Leave now.”
“Don’t be like that, Mr. Wayne. This is the twenty first century, we’re all open minded-“
“I’m not. Now will you leave me alone before I call management?”
Dodson stood back a bit, smug. He tapped on his tablet screen. “Gotham’s most famous Billionaire spied at-“
There was a distraction near the entrance. Voices buzzed in chatter and conversation near the doorway. Heads at various tables turned in curiosity.
What’s going on? Momentarily distracted from the reporter, Bruce turned his shoulders to look.
Dodson was likewise staring. “Who the hell is he?”
It was the Stranger. Tall and imposing, he stood a few feet away chatting with the maitre’d. More than a few eyes appraised the man openly.
Bruce spared a quick glance around. It occurred to him for the first time that most of the patrons were men.
How could I overlook something so obvious? My concentration is all fouled up, and-
Dodson interrupted his thoughts. “Well, well, well…wonder who the new entry is here to hook up with?”
Idiot. Bruce thought. But his eyes didn’t move from the entrance. The Stranger was decked in a pale gray pinstripe suit with tailored lapels. The ensemble included a black tie, red shirt (again with the red!) platinum cufflinks and clasp. A white, black banded fedora complemented a matching white cape tossed casually over a broad shoulder. His thick white hair blended into shadow beneath the brim, smooth and shining waves. Crisp black oxfords finished the look.
Dodson gawked, saying what Bruce was thinking. “Holy crud. The Godfather just waltzed into the joint!”
Appreciative murmurs were everywhere. Some small part of Bruce felt a bizarre combination of jealousy and possessiveness.
I am flattered, my Dark Knight.
Bruce blinked, shocked at the mental intrusion. It was the first time the Stranger had done this. So, he’s accelerating his game.
Dodson was oblivious to the moment, still rattling on. “Is he a V.I.P or something? Bet that suit cost a coupla thousand, easy. No wait, now who’s coming out to meet him?”
“Do you mind?” Bruce barely noticed him. The master chef had come out on the floor and engaged the Stranger in a spirited conversation. Curiosity made Bruce crane his neck a bit.

What’s going on over there?
The Stranger appeared to be laughing. The headwaiter pointed in Bruce’s direction and nodded.
“The hell? He’s headed this way!” Dodson’s eyes popped. He quickly looked back to Bruce in suspicion. “Oh hey, I get it.” He tapped on his tablet again.
“Misrepresent me with lies and I’ll sue your ass off.” Bruce warned. He signaled in greeting as the Stranger approached.
A brilliant smile flashed. “Bruce, I apologize for being a bit late.”
“No problem. I was just about to order a drink-”
“Ay, O!!” Dodson hollered, looking the Stranger over. “Tell me, friend. How do you know Mr. Wayne? I’m-“
The Stranger slipped off his cape and hung it over the booth with a flourish. “Frank Dodson of the Gotham Flip! Yes, I know.” The immortal appeared bored with the man.
“Your friend’s kinda snotty.” Dodson elbowed Bruce.
The Stranger ignored him. “Allow me to order a nice wine, Bruce. They have a selection here that-“
“You ain’t brushin’ me off, sport!” Dodson bellowed again. “I made my bones coverin’ stuck ups like you.”
Bruce had had enough. “Would you be so kind?” this to the Stranger.
A mischevious smile. “Not a problem.”
Dodson leaned over the table. “So tell me, boys. Where’s the party at? Godfather and Capo? I hear rumors about rich people and role play-“
Dodson suddenly slipped, falling backwards from the table and landing on his rump. A loud ripping sound was heard.
“What the f-“ Dodson cursed, rubbing his backside and staggering up. Customers started pointing and laughing nearby.
“What’s so damn funny? What’re you looking at!”
The Maitre’d approached. “Sir, are you injured? Do you require assistance?”
Dodson wobbled as he straightened himself. Snickers erupted again from nearby patrons.
“I’m fine, Jeeves. Just talkin’ to my friends here, but-“ he patted himself.
The headwaiter stared at him from behind. “I believe you are indisposed. Perhaps a cab is required?”
Bruce covered his mouth to keep from laughing. The Stranger sat serenely, his distant thoughts on his prize.
Another ripping noise, louder than the last.
That did it. Bruce erupted in laughter, holding his left side. The red faced Dodson snatched his tablet from the table.
“Okay, hotshot. I’m going. But you haven’t seen the last of me!” he stalked off. A giant hole in the seat of his suit exposed cheap and dingy underwear.
The Maitre’d rolled his eyes. “I suppose someone will have to pick up the rag he left behind.”
()
Bruce was still smiling after they’d placed their order. “It’s amazing how a little a tight suit has to give.” he snarked.
The Stranger likewise was smug. “Have some more of the wine, Bruce.” He picked up a goblet and poured.
Bruce took it from him and sipped. “Mhm. This is quite good. I don’t usually go for red, but it has a unique woody flavor.”
“A hint of blossom also.” Stranger drank from his own glass. They were silent momentarily.

“That was a master stroke, of course.”
“Are you implying that I?”
“Don’t give me that innocent look, Stranger. If you hadn’t made him fall I likely would have blown my cover by belting him.”
Stranger stared at his wine, smiling. “Well for both our sakes I’m glad you didn’t. A night in jail would hardly be proper.”
Bruce was amused, swishing his goblet absently. “Proper?”
The smooth voice lowered in timbre as the Stranger lifted his eyes a bit. “Dodson was comedy. But we will be more this night. Much, much more.”
“Stranger-“
“I choose you, Bruce Wayne. Wild delight and fire-“
Bruce made a gesture with his free hand. “Keep your voice down.”
The Stranger shook his head slowly. “For no ears but yours.”
“Try to control yourself. I’ve found through my training that calming your center helps.”
The immortal considered his words. “I am not calm by nature, Bruce. Eternity is longer than you know.”
“I don’t doubt that. But we’re still getting to know each other better.” Bruce gulped his wine suddenly, head tilted back.
Stranger observed the strong throat flex. I will kiss your fears away. “The Edlas wine is quite strong, Bruce.”
The big man coughed abruptly. “You’re right. Incredible!”
“Walnut barrel fermented. It makes a great deal of difference.”
Bruce sipped some water. “I’ll never call wine a ‘softer’ drink again.”
Stranger chuckled, as if to himself. “It does have that reputation. Unless you’re a pirate or nobleman.”
“Forty proof wine? My chest feels like I swallowed a flamethrower.”
“You were in a hurry. Sometimes it’s best to slow down.”
“True.”
They regarded each other in silence. Bruce forced himself to be still. Why am I nervous? There’s no reason to be, we’re just friends having dinner.
Yes and no, Bruce.
Blue eyes sparked in annoyance. “I don’t appreciate the mental messages, Stranger. Ask first.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that I have things to say that would prove awkward aloud. Unless you’d prefer-“
“NO. Mental speech is fine. Just don’t overdo it.” Bruce glanced over at the band playing. “Nice music, gives real atmosphere.”
Stranger agreed. “It does. Music tends to make one relax and get attuned.”
“Jazz, too.” Bruce felt slightly muzzy from the wine. His broad frame eased back into the cushioned booth. “The waiter is taking forever. Does he think we’ll wait all night to order?”
“I took the liberty. Hopefully you’ll like my selections.”
“So surprise me?”
“I intend to.” The Stranger said intensely, leaning forward a bit. When we are done here, I have a gift to present. Then we will burn the night away.
“Good God.” Bruce hissed at the voice in his head. “Do you ever turn it off? Whatever happened to anticipation?”
“Look at me, Bruce. Have I ever appeared reckless?”
Bruce found himself swimming in those blazing orbs. He forced his own gaze away quickly.
“I’ve had training at Thogal. I know what you’re trying to do!”
A smooth hand slipped under the table, touching Bruce on the thigh. “Assume nothing except mutual feelings, Bruce. Feelings that grow by the moment, despite your denials. I can sense it.”
Bruce fell silent. A stab of heat struck his skin where touched. Heat that spread rapidly to other areas of his body.
The Stranger kept steady eyes on him. You find me attractive?
Bruce was nearly sweating, his body tight. “Are you kidding? I never said you weren’t-“ he caught himself quickly.
Another bright smile. “The appetizers should be here shortly.” Stranger glanced up. “As they say, speak of the devil.”
“Unbelievable.” Bruce saw the waiter come their way. “I was beginning to think we’d have to head to the kitchen and cook our own meal.”
“Ah, gentlemen.” The waiter smiled. “Apologies for the delay, there was a slight equipment problem. Please accept these appetizers with our compliments, free of charge.”
Stranger nodded as the plates clinked over linen. “Thank you. It seems as though you’ve brought several.”
A white gloved hand pointed. “Here we have raw oysters on the ice, with lemon and butter. Gently seasoned with sage, of course. Over here are battered green beans toasted in garlic. The tomato bread rouusea is our best specialty item. Please enjoy, gentlemen. Your main entrée should be arriving shortly.” With a curt nod, the slim man made his exit.
Bruce immediately picked up the tomato bread and crunched it. “He’s right. This is delicious.”
Stranger eyed the plates. “Hmm. Perhaps the oysters would be a good starting point. I am partial to seafood.”
“As in bread and fishes?” Bruce teased.
The Stranger flashed him an odd look. “As you say-“
“Sorry, it was just a joke. Did I offend you?”
“No, I appreciate irony. In all it’s forms.” The Stranger squeezed lemon on an oyster. “These are plump, and quite fresh.” He downed it, licking the shell with great relish.
Bruce found himself watching that tongue. “It must be good.”
“Definitely.” Stranger scooped up another, repeating his licking motion. Bruce could have sworn that tongue moved like a snake.
“Try one.” Stranger offered, lifting a third oyster.
“I usually eat them cooked, but-“
“They’re quite tasty like this. Slick. And wet.”
Bruce picked up one slowly. “You’re not very subtle, Stranger. What about your reputation?”
“That depends on which reputation you speak of. The Betrayer, or Doom? Despite the fact I help many, not many trust me or welcome my appearance.”
“No offense again, but you give off a certain…vibe, if you will.”
“I admit to having a dual nature, Bruce.”
“I was referring to your reputation as a Guide. In that mode, you seem almost scholarly?”
“Pristine and proper? No. We all have roles to play, and I do what I must.” He lifted his wine glass to sip. “But enough of that. Let’s try some of the other appetizers.”
Bruce nodded, reaching for the beans. Both men were oblivious to a certain harassed reporter snapping pictures with his tablet.
()
They talked politics, life and religion. Bruce gained a deeper insight into universal problems at large. Stranger in turn, found the scope of daily mortal life fascinating.
“This food is absolutely delicious, Stranger. You picked well. The squab was especially tender.”
Stranger nodded in satisfaction. “I aim to please, Bruce. Having dined here before, I was aware of the quality. But it’s getting late.”
“Still eating my custard broule. Why so impatient?”
“You know why, Bruce.” Stranger whispered, leaning forward. Raw hunger lit his eyes.
“I haven’t agreed-“
“You are gorgeous, Bruce Wayne. I want you.”
“You aren’t going to stop, are you?”
“No.”
“Then I should-“ Bruce halted. Overwhelming scent crushed his senses. Musk and spice, fruit and earth. Intoxicating. Hot.
“I-“ his face felt flush, skin moist under the pricey suit. He couldn’t control his reaction, despite training and discipline. The room was spinning. He vaguely heard the Stranger order the check. Everything was a blur. The bizarre feeling of unreality returned.
His suit was becoming scratchy, uncomfortable. Bruce wanted to get naked, and soon.
Motion. Fresh air, noise of traffic. Something hard and rough pressed against his back. Silk against his leg. A shaded face, handsome and dark. Solid warmth in his arms. And those eyes…no longer white suns, but points of brilliant emerald green. They reminded Bruce of a trip overseas long ago…the Aegean Sea…
“I am not a Stranger…all the time, Bruce.”
Soft lips intruded his space, touching a cheek. A wet stroke of that tongue, whip strokes that tasted before devouring. Bruce was consumed by a hunger, a blazing desire to the core of his soul he’d never experienced before. Taste of honey, sweet honey and spice. He wanted it, all of it. Powerful arms returned the embrace, feeling strength and heat. Groping through a haze of lust, Bruce laced his fingers through wavy white hair, feeling the silken strands move to his touch. Stranger’s fedora fluttered quietly to the ground.
We go elsewhere, love. It’s no longer private or discreet here.
Bruce was still in a haze. Where are we? I don’t care.
You will if we don’t leave.
()
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Celestial Sensations