Detective | ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴛᴍᴀɴ

𝒇 𝒊 𝒇 𝒕 𝒆 𝒆 𝒏

Awakening from her slumber, Jess groggily rubbed her eyes, determined to shake off the remnants of sleep. A thin ray of sunlight sneaked through the crack in her bedroom window, landing directly on her face, coaxing her awake. In an attempt to take a deep breath, she struggled to fill her lungs completely. Gazing down, she noticed Bruce's head resting on her chest, his disheveled black hair obscuring his eyes.

Bruce's hand clenched tightly onto her shirt, keeping her captive and preventing her from getting up to use the bathroom. Jess made a feeble attempt to pry his fingers loose, but his grip was unyielding, forcing her to give up almost immediately. 

"Bruce," she whispered. A faint grunt escaped his pouty lips as he turned away from her, half-awake, facing the other side of the bed. Jess rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She recalled that he was not a morning person. Searching the room for a clock, she deduced that she had woken up in Bruce's room. An alarm on his side of the bed revealed the time: 9:15 a.m. in bold red digits. Yawning, she rose from the bed, quietly making her way to the bathroom and closing the door behind her.

Staring into the mirror, Jess brushed her hair away from her face, taking a long, hard look at herself. "God, Kent, what are you doing to yourself?" she muttered. After finishing her business, she exited the bathroom and left the room, allowing Bruce to continue his slumber undisturbed.

Returning to the dining room, Jess discovered Alfred sitting at the table, sifting through the mail. Her stack of evidence was neatly organized in a manila folder on the other end of the table. "Good morning, madam," Alfred greeted without diverting his attention from the mail. "There are some strawberries on the cart for you to enjoy."

"Oh my god, sorry about the mess," Jess said apologetically. "I fell asleep here, and Bruce took me upstairs."

The elderly butler glanced at Jess. "The young master escorted you to his room?" Alfred's outburst caught Jess by surprise, and she raised an eyebrow in astonishment. Alfred promptly cleared his throat. Biting her lower lip, Jess approached the manila folder, suppressing the urge to retaliate. "My apologies, that was impolite of me."

"Do I come across that poorly?" Jess asked, her brow furrowing. "Because, with all due respect, I'm beginning to think you don't particularly care for me." Just as Alfred was about to respond, Jess's phone rang, displaying Jim's caller ID on the screen. "Excuse me," she murmured, turning away to answer the call. "This is Kent."

"Hey, kid, I need you at Arkham," Gordon's voice resonated through the phone's speaker. "The inmate you've been trying to interview is willing to talk to you or Batman, and since it's daylight, you're our best bet."

Without hesitation, Jess ascended the stairs to her room. "I'll be there soon," she replied before ending the call. Afterward, she swiftly entered the shower, then donned a pair of jeans, a black shirt borrowed from her mother's apartment, laced up her Converse shoes, and secured her shoulder holster. Her hands slipped into the pockets of her red jacket, where she discovered the tracker that Bruce had discreetly attached to her.