Rain was pouring from the black sky when the tyres hit the tarmac, thunder shaking the ground and purple bolts of lightning illuminating the cityscape through the mist and dense rainfall.

"Here," Bruce said, shrugging off his jacket and giving it to Carla as the captain taxied their jet away from the runway.

She paused at the top of the short flight of stairs leading down onto the ground, lips pursed in distaste at the weather they'd landed into compared to the blissful sunshine they'd left behind in Sicily.

A blacked out Mercedes waited for them just a few feet away but the raindrops were pounding the ground with such force they bounced upwards with each splash, streams of water falling from the wings of the plane while strong gales forced the drift harder east.

"It's only water, you'll dry off," Bruce gave her a gentle nudge as he came up behind her with their bags in his hand, though quickly barred his teeth when he saw just how hard it was raining.

A gentleman jumped out of the drivers seat of the Mercedes and pulled open the door, Carla prompted by a hand on the small of her back to haul Bruce's jacket over her head and make a run for it.

She did exactly that, uttering a thank you to the man holding open the door for her as she dived into the backseat, only she was certain he wouldn't have been able to hear her over the sounds of the jet engines and the rain.

The noise quietened once the doors were closed and Bruce let out a sigh of relief once he sank down into the leather seat, dripping from head to toe with his t-shirt clinging to his body and his hair swept across his forehead. Carla stole a quick glance at his muscles through the sodden fabric and watched as he ran his hands through his hair, slicking it back out of his face before his lips curved into a smile.

"Lovely weather to welcome you back to Gotham with, don't you think?"

Bruce leaned forward and shook the hand of the man in the drivers seat, giving him an affectionate squeeze of the shoulder.

"Thank you for this Lucius, it's great to see you. This is Carla, by the way. Carla, Lucius Fox."

He turned around and extended his hand to Carla, kind eyes offering her instant comfort and a genuine smile putting her at ease in a place that rarely did. She shook his hand and smiled politely.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Fox."

"Please, just Lucius. I've heard a lot about you, the pleasure is all mine."

"Is that so?" Carla raised a brow, smirking at Bruce who scoffed and turned to look out of the window, avoiding showing the redness in his cheeks.

"Oh yes," Lucius continued, "Whenever I call Mr Wayne I'm lucky if I get sixty seconds to actually talk about Wayne Enterprises, most of the time he's just talking about you. And I can see why."

"Hey," Bruce scowled playfully and pointed a finger at Lucius, "Watch it, Fox."

Lucius laughed and revved the engine, heated seats warming their damp bodies and clothes within seconds, "Alright, let's get you two home."

Home was a beautiful two-story stone built cottage nestled somewhere in the Palisades, miles away from the bustling, memory-ridden city streets of Gotham. They probably weren't far from Wayne Manor though the country roads all looked the same in the dark and Carla couldn't begin to guess where exactly they were, though the way Bruce kept glancing out of the window as they drove on told her that he did.

After Harvey and Rachel's twins had been born, it hadn't been an instant decision to come to Gotham to visit. Carla and Bruce had gone back and forth over the idea for weeks, some days feeling like they could brave anything and other days feeling like just tasting the air might set them back to a time they didn't want to revisit.

Despite being the instigator, it was Carla who began to doubt the idea of the trip more so than Bruce. The more she thought about it, the more she started to remember things that she'd tried to forget, the more she saw old cuts on her body when she looked in the mirror and the more her heart began to ache with the pain that she knew Bruce had endured for that place.

They mulled over the idea for a while before Bruce's persuasion worked its magic. Carla agreed under the condition that they wouldn't step foot in the city itself, staying as far out as possible and only spending the time there that was necessary. Bruce was more than happy to comply, not wanting to risk walking around in the city anyway, and so with the help of Lucius Fox, everything fell into place.

"I don't remember the last time I lit a fire in September," Bruce mumbled, eyes narrowed as he pushed another log into the hearth of a stone fireplace.

Carla wandered into the cosy living room wrapped in a red satin robe, bare faced with a fresh blow dry after taking a long, hot shower as soon as they arrived. She shivered beneath her skin and walked over to the fire, standing with her hands outstretched over the flames.

"It's supposed to still be summer, I hate it."

Bruce stood up beside her and grinned, "Well I heard the weather in South Carolina is beautiful right now, so we'll be back in the sunshine in two days."

As a way to entice Carla into agreeing to go back to Gotham, Bruce threw in the idea of taking a road trip down to South Carolina after remembering that she'd mentioned it many moons ago. He still didn't entirely understand what the appeal was but the idea had worked, and so their two-day trip back to the States turned into a ten-day road trip together.

"Good, I still don't like the fact that we're here all that much."

Bruce tilted his head and watched the flames reflect in her eyes as she stared vacantly into the fire, thoughts clearly somewhere else entirely.

"We're not really there," he said, lightly tugging on her hand and pulling her over to the window. Bruce stood behind her, chin resting on her shoulder with his hands wrapped around her body, lips kissing her neck just once as they looked out at the city lights in the distance, "We're miles away, we're safe."

He was right, they were miles away, but just because they couldn't hear the sound of endless traffic or late night drinkers didn't mean that they weren't walking the same ground that had once swallowed their happiness whole.

"Do you want a drink?" Carla asked, prising Bruce's hands from her stomach and edging towards the kitchen.

"When was the last time you offered me anything?"

Carla rolled her eyes at him and stood with one hand on her hip, "Do you want one or not?"

Bruce just smiled, breathing out silently in content as he admired her. The light was low in the room besides two small lamps in the corners and the fire roaring in the centre, dark shadows curving across the walls and an old couch, a liquor cabinet along the back wall and a dining table with a sheen of dust on the surface.

Carla looked beautiful in any light but Bruce liked seeing her best at times like that. There was something about seeing her dark eyes shine with mystery that reminded him of their past, and not the things he wanted to forget, but the things he'd thought about that carried him towards a future. He enjoyed how dangerous she looked, how desirable and fierce with sharp features and a tongue to match, still that same woman he'd been taken aback by after all this time.

"I'd love one. Lucius left some wine in the kitchen."

Carla nodded, "Find a blanket or something, I'll be back in a minute."

Bruce did as he was told and dug around in a cupboard beneath the stairs, rooting through boxes of old board games and stacks of DVDs before he eventually found a pile of knitted blankets. Dusting one down with a shake by the foot of the stairs, he carried it back into the living room and made himself comfortable on the couch, pulling the footstool into the middle and pushing the cushions to the side.

Carla appeared a few moments later with two glasses of wine in her hands, passing one to Bruce before sitting down beside him and curling her legs up to the side, resting her face on her hand with her elbow on the armrest of the couch.

"You ok? I know it's not easy being back here but we're doing it for our friends, right?"

"Right," she agreed in a quiet voice, eyes scanning Bruce as he sat with an arm resting across the top of the couch, one leg crossed at a knee, "Do you know that I love you?"

He frowned at her unexpected question, eyes narrowed in search of an explanation to it all somewhere within her, though of course he found nothing. Her eyes were empty and face still, her question serious and weighted enough to force her to swallow uncomfortably as she waited for him to say something.

"Of course," he breathed, "Why would you ask that?"

Bruce shifted in his seat and placed his wine down on the coffee table. Something different started to melt into Carla's eyes, something Bruce recognised from the time he'd salvaged their relationship in the moonlight on the bathroom tiles back in Sicily. Carla was frightened.

"Because the last time I was here, all I could think about was that I never said it enough. I'm not always warm or affectionate or very nice at all, but that's not a reflection on how I feel. It haunted me to think that you might've died wondering whether I even loved you at all. I've tried to show it more but it's only you that can tell me if you feel it."

The question seemed ridiculous in Bruce's mind and his first justification was the fact that Carla put her own life on the line to protect his, and that was before they'd ever even whispered the word love to each other. But to Bruce, it wasn't about words or how often those four letters passed through her lips.

It was about the way she smiled at him, the way she looked at him, looked for him across a crowded room. It was the way Carla held onto his arm when they walked into bars or grabbed onto his hand when she'd had a little too much to drink and her heels might've been a tad too high. It was the way that she let him do things for her, she opened herself up to him, trusted him. It was the way Carla kissed him and how her hands raced through his hair, how sweet his name sounded coming from her lips, how she would trace her fingers across his scars and apply soothing oil to the ones that burned the most. She defended him and protected him and she let him love her, even though doing so was the one thing that terrified her the most. For Carla to let her guard fall completely to allow his to cover them both, that was the purest declaration of love that Bruce could've ever wished for.

"When did you know that you loved me?"

Carla lifted her shoulders and pursed her lips, "I don't know, I just...woke up one day and-"

"No but if you had to guess," Bruce waved a hand nonchalantly through the air, "When would you say you knew?"

She looked at him for a long moment, rewinding through a million and one memories that were locked inside of her mind, "This is embarrassing, I'm not-"

"Oh come on," Bruce silenced her with a laugh, "Just answer the quest-"

"The back of the ambulance."

A small smile lit a spark in Bruce's eyes as Carla begrudgingly told the truth, throwing out the words as if she couldn't say them fast enough.

"After the thing with Harvey and the Joker,"
She continued, holding her head high, "I remember feeling so upset when Rachel was there for Harvey and I...I was alone. It seemed pathetic really, when Gordon asked if he could call anybody for me and I had to say no. But then you showed up."

"I would've been there sooner but, well, you know why I wasn't."

"I know," she nodded, "But that was when I first realised."

Bruce couldn't hold back his smile and the longer he looked at her, the wider it grew. Carla was fighting with all her might to clench her jaw and keep her composure, acting unflustered even if her heart was racing out of her chest at the memory playing out in her mind, but Bruce could see it all anyway.

"Come here," he said, lifting up the edge of the blanket and opening his arms to her.

"You come here."

"Would you not be so stubborn for once?" He rolled his eyes, "Get over here, now."

Carla's dark eyes flickered with excitement and she glanced over him once, a hot flush beneath her clothes at his demanding tone that she didn't bother to hide, biting down on her lip as she put down her wine and shuffled into his arms.

Bruce stretched his legs out across the couch while Carla did the same, nestling her head against his chest with an arm draped across his body, his lips kissing through her hair while his hand lightly tickled her arm. Her skin smelled like vanilla and her hair like coconut, soft and delicate as he raked his hands through the dark strands by his shoulder, brushing loose pieces away from her face so he could kiss her forehead.

Carla stared at the fire again. Her heart fell still as she lay on his chest, the blanket around their waists and their legs tangled together, feeling like she didn't need to breathe at all so long as she could heart his heart beating beneath her. It was peaceful and right then she felt safe, even if she was in Gotham.

"I think I've loved you since I saw you take a knife to that guy's balls out in the rain."

Carla tensed, "You saw that?"

"Of course I saw. I would've let you carry on too but having someone castrated outside my restaurant might not have gone down very well," he chuckled.

"The salmon didn't go down very well either."

"You are impossible," he said with a gentle laugh, noticing the way her fingers curled around the neck of his t-shirt, "But really, I think it hit me when I saw you again after those two weeks we didn't talk."

Carla scoffed, "You mean after you were about to fuck me against a window and then you left?"

Bruce hauled in a deep breath and kissed his teeth, awkward regret labouring his lungs as he searched for the right words to back up his case. Of course he had his reasons and Carla knew that by then, but Bruce should've known better than to think that meant she'd let him off the hook.

"Yeah," he mumbled, "And then I saw you at that fundraiser and I thought you'd laugh in my face and walk away, but you didn't."

"Actually, I think I tried to."

"Well it's a good job I charmed you into staying, isn't it? I couldn't look at you, knowing that I loved you, and let you just walk away, could I? There was no hesitation when it came to the guy with the gun outside either, it was like some kind of primal instinct...I'd never felt it before but I knew I'd have done anything to keep you safe."

Carla closed her eyes then, a rising lump in her throat as she felt Bruce's arms tighten around her, kisses scattered across her temple. She'd never doubted that he loved her but the way he cared for her, the way he protected her and kept her safe filled a void she didn't know had made her so empty for so long. Her brothers had done the same thing and her father had too, and even if they no longer did, Bruce vowed that he always would.

"We're away from that life now," she whispered.

Bruce tilted up her head with his thumb and forefinger at her chin, eyes glistening in the flames and shadows dancing across the room.

"And we'll never go back, angel."

He kissed her softly and Carla melted, her grip tightening on the collar of his t-shirt as his hand dropped to her waist, pulling her to straddle his lap.

Carla flicked her hair over one shoulder and kissed him again, her hands on the sides of his neck as his touch dared to caress her soft thighs, eventually rising up to tug on the thin cord keeping the sides of the gown tied together, leaving her bare on top of him as the satin fell from her shoulders and down her back.

Bruce's dark eyes trailed across her body, his hands racing up across her hips and her waist while she sat pretty for him, hands on his chest with a devilish smirk tugging on the edges of her pink lips. His mind was turning wild and he couldn't choke out a single word, focusing on trying to breathe as Carla nudged him to pull off his t-shirt.

He rose up and tugged it over his head with one hand, grabbing Carla by the waist and pulling her down on top of him with their lips colliding messily. Their kiss was hot and needy, deep and passionate as Carla ground her hips against him, revelling in the way she could feel his breathing quicken and his moans stifle against her neck.

Carla slipped a hand between her thighs, feeling him hard against her palm as she stroked him teasingly through his sweatpants, "Take 'em off."

Bruce swallowed and followed her orders without question, keeping his lips on hers as he lifted his hips to kick off the rest of his clothes, his teeth grazing her neck in pleasure when he felt Carla's hands take hold of him again, pumping him slowly before she dragged him across her core.

"Jesus Christ, Carla," Bruce whispered desperately, aching to be inside of her again.

She smirked and took her time to enjoy how needy he sounded beneath her, how desperate his ragged breathing became as she continued to tease him.

"Say please."

"No way," He laughed darkly as he kissed her jaw, his fingers gripping her hips as she continued to grind back and forth across him, so painfully close to giving him what he wanted.

Carla dropped her hand and pulled away from his neck, "Fine," she said simply, her face emotionless and unbothered.

Bruce felt like the air had been snatched from his lungs when her body disappeared from his grasp. He jerked forwards at the emptiness that chilled him, eyes dark and feverish as he met her seductive gaze once more before kissing her hard, one hand gripping her throat and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Please," he said between kisses, their foreheads pressed together, "Let me fuck you."

Carla grinned and kissed him again, her stomach tightening in anticipation that lasted no time at all, her hips pulled up over his thighs and suddenly feeling all of him inside of her, coaxing out a gasp from her lips as her nails raked at his shoulders.

Bruce pulled her down beneath him, taking a second to admire her laid out for him to take as his own before kissing her again, his strokes slow and filled with deep passion that heated his skin the tighter she locked her legs around his waist.

He grabbed her hand from his hair and laced their fingers together, stealing a kiss across her knuckles before resting their hands together above her shoulder, his other hand still on her waist. Carla arched her back as she felt Bruce's strokes hit deeper and deeper inside of her, broken moans being suffocated by her collapsed energy and comprehension for anything besides the way he made her feel, besides the way he looked above her with a smile on his lips and fire in his eyes.

He didn't need to touch her for her orgasm to bring her to tears on the edge of his body, the way he made love to her doing it all that night. Carla's thighs tightened around Bruce's torso and within seconds of her screaming his name, he came inside of her with his lips kissing up every last drop of pleasure from her mouth.

He stayed inside of her as he caught his breath, locking his arms as he hovered above her body and watched sweat glisten on her naked chest and across her collarbones, a rare sight to see her smiling at him, even if it was only small.

"To answer your question, yes, I know that you love me. I told you that your confession when you once told some guy that I'd beat him bloody over you was enough, and it still is. I knew then, and I knew now, and I love you too. I love all of you, and I love the way that you love me."