Re: Bar: Cat C/Bruce W
Bruce was always a little surprised at her easy physical familiarity, a familiarity that no one else had. There were a number of people who knew how potentially deadly he could be, but moreover there was usually a sense of privacy that seemed to exude out from the tailored suits and steady gaze. People seemed hesitant to even shake his hand. He thought it was probably something in his face, and when he was trying to be the genial businessman he made sure to smile more than felt natural. He resisted the automatic impulse to touch where she had touched, to see if there was something strange there to detect. Just gray, he suspected.
Bruce felt a surprising trace of... something. An unsettled feeling at the bottom of his stomach. An unease he hadn't felt before. He couldn't identify it.
Thoughtlessly, he sipped at the drink she had given him.
"Doing what?" he repeated. "What is it that he's doing?" Bruce thought of Damian as an errant child. He didn't treat him like a man or think of him like a man. He expected him to be unpredictable and more often foolish than smart. He took nothing Damian said with any particular weight, the discordant insults and moodiness too much of what young Bruce had been ages ago.
"It is better if he does," Bruce said, this time referring to their errant scientist.
He gave her a steady look when she asked for more medical details, and it had a hint of a scold in it. That was a little too much to ask.