Bruce hadn't checked up on her when she'd been staying in the Gotham penthouse, and she hadn't expected him to start now that she'd found herself in Italy at the whims of the hotel. She'd guessed that he had things to do here, the things that took him away from the villa through the sunlight hours of the day, and she didn't question it. She was there by his generosity, much like she had been in Gotham, and it wasn't her place to push him for answers. Though that didn't seem to deter the annoyed faces that Lucia made every time she managed to make it known that Bruce had left before sunrise... again. Iris only gave the woman a smile (sometimes a laugh if her face was especially twisted with the annoyance), and did her best to reassure her that it was fine. More than once, there was a quick response that included words that sounded like 'lasciare' and 'moglie', but Lucia never explained or tried to translate those.
The days had passed quietly, but with enough action and strangeness that the minutes sped by. She was doing her best to pick up words here and there, repeating the things Lucia said until they began to stick in her mind. It was a very slow process, but the other woman was doing the same with English, and their strange conversations, though still stilted and filled with pantomime and often too much confusion to overcome, were growing easier. She knew that Lucia likely had other things to do than follow her around as she continued to explore her new world, things that she did before Iris had appeared, but the woman didn't seem to mind keeping her company. Chaperoning her as she walked, joining her as she sat, glaring at her during meals. The knife-edge of guilt was continuing to grow in her stomach, and she knew it would only be another day or two before she tried to insist that she was fine and that Lucia didn't need to watch her.
But that day was still in the future, this day finding them sitting beneath a tree, Iris doing her best to toss a bit of stick for the dog to chase and retrieve. He barked every time he dropped the wood at the edge of her skirts, a demand for more play even after her arm had begun to grow tired. Her energy was better than it had once been, the air and walking helping even though her body had begun to protest the extra food. It left shadows beneath her eyes again, though she was sleeping better than she had in the past (exhausted by the fresh air and exertion of her walks), and made her want to reject the food, but it was hard to say no in the face of Lucia's stubbornness. So she did her best, even though it was a struggle. But a struggle that she was mostly able to ignore as she was taking a walk or playing with the dog. Lucia had managed to tell her that it was Bruce's dog, and that his name was Pip. She had simply accepted the name until a few nights ago, when she'd been looking out the window as a group of dark shapes flitted through the sky. Lucia had seen as well, pointed (as they both so often did), and said 'pipistrelli'. It had taken a moment to connect the dots between the creatures and the dog's name, but she'd softly replied 'bats' as she smiled (more fondly than she should have) and shook her head.
In the sunshine, Pip barely resembled a bat, fetching the stick again and dropping it in the grass near Iris' hand. He wagged his tail so hard that his entire back end shook, and she laughed again as she picked it up. Before she could throw it, Lucia's (rather pleased, from what she could tell) 'signore' caught her attention, and she looked over at the woman, who was in turn looking at an approaching figure. It took a moment for her to shade her eyes and focus on him, quickly recognizing the height, width of shoulder, and confident step. Pip barked again, and though Iris reached out (eyes still on the figure) to try to quiet the dog, he was already gone, closing the distance to greet Bruce.