Author’s Assortment #11 – Batman: First Person Bat Pt. 7

Posted: May 6, 2019 in Uncategorized

By G.N. Jacobs

Bruce Wayne read all the right papers with both feet up on the recliner feature of the wheelchair. Selina found an unusual for her stillness on the other side of the room stylishly laid out on a sofa with shoes off tearing up the latest romance novel. Somehow she’d become a character from Downton Abbey fully dressed in red to read silently with her husband and she hadn’t scratched anyone’s eyes out.

For his part, Bruce practiced the parts of his life that could happen tied to a chair like sniffing the air to guess her fragrance and the more important emotional undercurrents underneath. Boy, is she pissed about the silence, he thought enjoying a quick imagine of her in her work outfit suddenly ripped apart to reveal even more skin. He pushed the reports aside and help up his hand.

“Toss Episode One here, Selina,” Bruce said.

“Huh, Darling?” Selina asked innocently. “You want to read…”

“Yes, you hot sexy lit minx, I want to read your total crap but page turner bodice ripper,” Bruce said with his warmest smile.

“I’m not done, Bruce.”

“You’re on Episode Two of a series, Lina,” Bruce observed. “You can toss over the first one and quiz me at dinner.”

Selina held up the indicated volume giving it a teasing waggle. “Quiz me? About this book?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? It’s written a little complicated.”

“Darling Wife, it’s a romance novel written about to how an eighth grader likes her words with all the big nasty sex words added to keep away the YA crowd,” Bruce said showing much teeth to his smile. “Now if I can’t follow along then it’s pretty clear all the money put into the Wayne Foundation meant to get me through school was wasted.”

“True. You’re a smarty pants.”

“We agree on that at least,” Bruce said. “How about this, if I can’t manage and my lips move while I read you get to come over and read it to me. Tutoring for the quiz.”

Selina flushed almost as red as her dress finally allowing the full meaning of quiz to catch up to her. She lobbed over the book into his hands for a soft basket catch.

“Bruce, is my husband supposed to proposition me like this?”

“When he wants to reassure the wife that there aren’t any younger Russian tomatoes named Natasha, abso-frakking-lutely.”

“Are you sure, Dear?” Selina asked sweetly. “This book…”

Bruce held up the book to show off the cover of the woman in a cocktail dress approaching the man in the story with a rope tied in a bondage knot held behind her leg. A finger pointed out the detail.

“Selina, the cover gives it away as discreetly as a publisher might allow,” Bruce said enjoying the repartee too much. “If the acts implied by this cover don’t happen by Page 50, no let’s be generous, Page 70, I’m going to make you send the whole series back to Amazon. And trash these people on Goodreads. False advertising.”

“Okay, Love, more seriously you’ve never indicated…”

“That when the love of my life is on the board my squeamishness about this sort of thing goes straight into the toilet,” Bruce answered.

“Squeamish?” Selina probed. “I meant to ask about that.”

“They sometimes call him, The World’s Greatest Detective,” Bruce said. “It means to play him on TV, I had to read at least one boring ass scholarly book on the subject. Teaches the knots and safe words, but doesn’t make it seem fun. You do that.”

Selina flushed redder and blew a kiss. “You buried the lead. I love you works equally well for what you want.”

“Maybe, but I love you also works to thank you afterwards,” Bruce observed. “And I do.”

“What?”

“Love you.”

“I know.”

And so they read their respective books eyes bugging out with each salacious passage. Curiosity finally killed off the cat. She closed her book after moving the paper clip pressed into service as bookmark.

“This is too good,” Selina said. “Where is this boring scholarly work?”

“Behind you, third shelf from the floor, six from the left,” Bruce said. “Of the many thousands of books from all eras in the house, I keep the ones I’ve read and don’t really like in this room.”

“Now, you’ve really buried the lead.”

“Maybe.”

“You were bored and too lazy to ask Alfred for a book from another room.”

“Yes, Dear.”

“And burying the lead going the long way around ends with…”

“You…well, promising a compromising position. Instead of silently reading together like characters from a BBC show. A good day’s work don’t you think?”

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