Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Pilot
Gotham City, Wayne Foundation Building
It was the most anticipated event each year—The Thomas and Martha Wayne Memorial Charity Gala. Journalists and photographers lined the red carpet outside the illustrious Wayne Foundation Building, eagerly anticipating the arrival of the most esteemed hosts of the event: the Waynes.
When it was rumoured that the billionaire’s mysterious wife would finally make her public appearance five months after their wedding, members of the media from all major cities flocked over to Gotham. All they hoped was to get a single glimpse and snapshot of the lucky lady who took on the Wayne name by virtue of marriage.
A black Aston Martin pulled up at the front. Out stepped the renowned billionaire himself, Bruce Wayne, in a suit tailored just for him. He glanced at the public, flashing his signature charming smile at the spectators. He shifted his body towards the car once more, extending the palm of his hand towards the passenger’s seat.
This was it, the moment everyone had been waiting for.
Feet in lilac pumps detailed with precious Swarovski crystals stepped out of the car. The reporters at the red carpet went abuzz at the sight of the lady they had been waiting for so long to see. She held onto her husband’s hand gently, slightly lifting the hem of her skirt to prevent herself from tripping.
At last, the beautiful milky-skinned madam finally made her appearance. In a lilac designer evening gown and wearing a platinum wedding ring to match her husband’s, everyone found her appearance alone enchanting. All the reporters gasped upon noticing who she was, sharing whispers among each other and into their comms.
“Isn’t that Yvonne Thomas?!” One of them exclaimed.
“She was my wife’s doctor, Chairman Derrick Thomas and Adele Thomas’ youngest child,” another reporter mumbled to his colleague.
“No way… no, I didn’t anticipate Wayne would marry Chairman Thomas’ daughter either!” One reporter whispered-yelled into his comms, probably to his boss.
Bruce leaned a little closer to his wife. Yvonne raised her head in response to make eye contact with him. He was much taller than her, after all.
“Are you nervous, Yvonne?” The reporters heard Bruce gently ask his wife.
“Oh, I’m alright, Bruce. Don’t worry about me,” Yvonne gently replied with a graceful smile on her face, slightly squeezing his arm.
While there were bound to be whispers, there were also bound to be excited comments.
“Mrs Wayne! Over here! Smile!”
“Mrs Wayne, how are you feeling tonight?!”
“Mrs Wayne, a comment please?”
All the attention was directed solely onto the young madam that night. Yvonne Evangeline Wayne had to admit—though she did tell her husband she was fine at first—three hours into the night, and endless questions from reporters and overbearing wealthy socialites later, she thought she could use a teeny tiny break.
Before heading out, she glanced at her husband, ever so busy entertaining the guests that evening with his million dollar smile plastered across his face. To the untrained eye, he was the air-headed billionaire who solved all his problems with his wallet, a smile and a witty quip. The masses had no idea that her husband was the Dark Knight.
And so, Yvonne silently slipped out of the grand ballroom and headed towards the one place she could escape to. Bruce had told her all about the private garden on the top floor just outside his penthouse, and how it was perfect for a momentary escapade. It was the perfect place to get a breath of fresh air.
It didn’t take long for her to finally reach her temporary sanctuary. There was a book she had been itching to finish at the penthouse, so she took it with her before heading to the garden. Comfortably sitting on a bench there, she silently immersed herself into the book, forgetting all her problems and troubles for just a moment.
Yvonne pursed her lips in frustration. She was losing concentration about an hour into the book. Her eyes only seemed to glaze the words on the page as she thought of her husband, Bruce Wayne.
Their marriage had been a business proposal of sorts. In truth, it was a convenient way for Bruce to be able to commit to his more pressing duties—Gotham City, his mission, the entire world. They were old friends, and knew each other quite well. Yvonne would say his secret life was more important than his own marriage.
She had to admit, it did get lonely sometimes, but she had the Wayne family butler, Alfred to keep her company. It made her pain of loneliness hurt somewhat less.
Why had she truly agreed to the arrangement then? Was it to keep every other man off her back, and to protect herself?
Well, in short, the answers were ‘yes’ and ‘yes’.
She needed him, just as he needed her. It was a perfect business decision for the masses to see, to protect the pair as a shield.
Unbeknownst to the lady in question, her husband had silently come up to the garden to check up on her. He took light steps towards her, and once he got closer, he leaned over to see what book she had been reading.
Ah. A Tale of Two Cities. Dickens. Perhaps his wife hadn’t had the time to indulge herself in literature lately. She loved English literature.
“Yvonne.”
She gave him no response.
He gently placed a hand on her shoulder. A frown crept onto his face, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Her shoulder was cold to the touch. Was she not shivering?
Yvonne flinched slightly and turned around to face him when she felt the warmth of his hand. “Oh, Bruce! What are you doing here?”
Bruce took off his blazer and placed it around her shoulders. “I came to check up on you, Yvonne. Are you feeling exhausted?”
Yvonne flashed him a small smile, tugging onto his blazer. It smelled just like him. She loved his cool cologne. “I’m alright. I just needed a quick getaway.”
“How quick is quick in your book?”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, Yvonne, you’ve been out here for two hours.”
“Oh,” replied Yvonne, gripping onto her book. She didn’t want to go back to that stuffy ballroom. She’d much rather stay in the garden all alone to read her book. “Perhaps, I just needed a longer getaway.”
Without another word, her husband took a seat right next to her, looking at the view of the clear, starry night sky. Yvonne turned to him, looking at his pale blue eyes. She waited for him to say something, anything, but he said and did nothing.
Yvonne turned to her book once more, not paying him much mind. “You’re not heading back downstairs, are you, Bruce?”
“I just needed a quick getaway.”
Yvonne looked up from her book again, turning to him. She felt a little smile creep up on her face. “How quick is quick in your book?”
He merely gave her a light chuckle. She was right. Bruce was never going back downstairs to entertain anyone else that night.
Yvonne turned back to her book with a little smile on her face. “Um, Bruce.”
“Hm? Yes? What is it?” Bruce turned to her again.
Yvonne pursed her lips, deciding against it. “… never mind.”
Bruce exhaled through his nose, his eyes focused solely on his wife. “You know, Yvonne, you can ask me anything.”
Yvonne bit her inner lower lip before turning back to her husband. “I was about to ask if you were going to go to ‘work’,” Yvonne said quietly, “when you’re already so exhausted.”
There was a near indescribable look on his face. Yvonne would say it was close to sullenness. The atmosphere around them changed instantly; it was heavier now than it was ever before.
“I’ve told you about ‘work’,” he said quietly, solemnly. “I’ve told you my reasons for doing so. Nothing can deter me from fulfilling the promise I made to myself.”
Yvonne held back a sigh. Every day, she lived with a weight in her chest, one which got heavier each time she saw her husband in his dark grey kevlar suit and black cowl. ‘Bruce could die tonight’ constantly plagued her thoughts.
Whenever he was off-world with the Justice League or on patrol throughout the city, she was either at work or at the manor, thinking to herself, ‘was he ever going to make it back alive? Maybe, maybe not’. Yet he made it back each time.
But no matter what, Yvonne always held onto the hope that her husband would make it back home well and alive. If not for her sake, at least for Alfred’s. He didn’t love her that much, after all.
And so, the only reply Yvonne could quietly and slowly conjure up each time was, “okay. Stay safe out there. I’ll be at home, waiting for you as always.”
Yvonne and Bruce shared a look, and she swore his eyes softened just a little. Perhaps, all he needed was just that little boost and reassurance from time to time.
As for Bruce, he never said it aloud, but hoped that his actions spoke louder than words ever could. He’d strive to make it back home from a mission each time, for Yvonne’s sake and Alfred’s, even if she didn’t love him.
“I know,” was his response, sitting upright again. “‘Work’ for me only begins in an hour, so, Yvonne, will you let me accompany you out here in the meantime?”
Yvonne smiled and nodded slightly. “Sure.”
The silence ensued, and the atmosphere got lighter, almost returning to normal. Yvonne happily returned to her book. Bruce found himself silently reading along to what she was reading.
They may not love each other, but at the very least, they somewhat care for each other, enough to be able to enjoy peaceful and mundane little moments like this together.