Title: Betty, the Bat, and the Bird: (Ficlet #3)
Fandom: Batman Begins/Ugly Betty
Characters/Pairing: Betty Suarez, Bruce Wayne
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,460
Summary: Betty gives Bruce one of her famed peptalks. Bruce decides to leave the country. Maybe not the result she was hoping for.
Notes: I've been busy with getting a job and getting whattheficathon ready. Obviously Dark Knight is coming out soon, and while I completely intend to finish this, I might write a drabble or two for that here and there. I'm also working on a small Reaper fic. So those were my distractions too. But I make it up to you with a slightly longer ficlet! Hopefully it's worth it. I do enjoy Bruce in this one.

• First Arc: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part14, and Part 15

• Second Arc: Part 1, Part 2



With stacks of papers and a mug of coffee in her hands, Betty stood from behind her desk, knocked, and walked into Bruce's office. "Good morning," she chirped. Her hands were somewhat emptied when she dropped the papers on the side table by the wall. She then headed over to stand in front of Bruce, thrusting the steaming mug of coffee in his face as she looked him over. She took inventory of his various injuries on a daily basis, and though she didn't write them down, she remembered. She knew this was the third time since she'd returned to the office that at least a thin layer of makeup had been applied over his nose. "You look horrible. Rough night?"

"You haven't seen the papers." Bruce took the coffee from her outstretched hand and quickly took a sip.

"No, I haven't. You know, it was weird… I took the ferry over this morning and the guy at the dock was out of everything except for the Star Ledger and the Enquirer." Betty shook her head, giving a sigh. "I hate the Ledger. It's all Jersey news."

Bruce took another sip and set his cup down. Betty watched as he reached down into his leather briefcase, pulling out that day's Gotham Gazette. Betty usually purchased one for herself on the way in (she had a bit of a journalistic crush on one of the op-ed writers) but coming in from the docks that morning had screwed with her schedule a bit. She'd barely had time to pick up a bagel and fruit bowl. She put the bagel in front of Bruce now, along with a small thing of cream cheese and a plastic knife.

She handed him the knife just as he handed her the Gazette. "I ate already."

"Lying, Bruce? At this point in our relationship?" Betty shook her head again and smirked slightly. "Alfred called to let me know you needed breakfast before I was out of Queens. What did I tell you about coming in early and not eating?"

"Page three," Bruce said gruffly. He took the bagel from her reluctantly and Betty looked down at the paper, flipping through shortly to the indicated page.

When she looked down at the page three or four articles greeted her. She skimmed the headlines, noting something about a corrupt assemblyman, and some analysis on the upcoming election (Bruce's friend, Harvey, was running for something), and then the final headline, Arkahm Asylum Goes Green!: ivy and vines cover entire building overnight. Betty could only assume this was what she'd been looking for.

"This is page three news?" Betty asked incredulously, looking up at Bruce. Ivy covering an entire building overnight seemed like it would be worthy of more than page three.

"Look at page one."

He'd spread that cream cheese awfully fast, Betty noted, but still, she turned back to the front page. The Penguin Terrorises Gallery Opening! she read and looked up again. "Who's the Penguin?" she had to ask. It frustrated her a bit, because she liked to think that she had Gotham villains memorized. It was matter of both pride and survival.

"Picture. Bottom of the page, second column."

Well you're friendly this morning. The words almost slipped from her lips, but she thought better of it, instead glancing down the page once more. It took her little time to locate the aforementioned picture. A round, beady-eyed man stared back at her. Perched between his small, closely set eyes was a long hooked nose, round spectacles perched on top. He wore an old fashioned yet dapper coat and tails, though the cumberbund underneath didn't seem to fit just right. His top hat didn't even look clean in the picture. Betty pushed her hair out of her face and scratched her forehead as she stared at the picture. He didn't really look threatening, but she'd learned not to judge a Gotham book by its cover.

She folded the paper back up after she'd read the caption. Glitzy Grifter Grabs Gems. "Good alliteration, 'cept it's kind of obvious the spent some time with the Word thesaurus putting that one together," Betty mused to herself. She paused to see if Bruce would respond, but it was quickly becoming apparent that he wasn't in the mood for small talk this morning. She sighed. "So, the Penguin? And… Arkham was Poison Ivy? The whole green vine thing…"

"Yes." Succinct. She was definitely going to be doing most of the talking this morning.

She watched him, more specifically his face. "Which one of them killed your nose?"

"The Penguin," came the short answer.

"He must have been jealous." Betty tapped the Penguin's large schnoz in the picture and grinned. "Not that I'm making fun of the guy for his looks or anything, but, well… this is unfortunate. I mean, what…" she trailed off, realizing that Bruce wasn't even giving her the benefit of grunting in response anymore. Usually, he at least did that.

She sighed. "Okay, not the best of nights." She shuffled a few pieces of paper around on his desk, not really having anything to do with them. It was an unusually quiet morning at the office; perhaps fate's way of balancing out the rough night Bruce had apparently had. "I'm sorry," she offered softly.

It would have been awkward had he spoken too soon, she supposed. It might have sounded as if he were brushing her off, simply not caring for what she'd said. The pause that ensued, off-putting as the silence was, at least let her know that he was considering her words. They weren't empty at all.

"It's not your fault." Neither were his words empty. Bruce sounded just as sincere as she'd been herself, but Betty recognized the tone of his voice. It wasn't her fault because everything rested on his shoulders. It really was a lot, she thought, to blame the crime rate of an entire city on himself. Even if it was his own alter ego. "Gotham isn't getting any safer."

"Well that's not your fault either," Betty countered. "Two freaks-of-the-week happened to get their weeks confused and all came out at once. It's gotta happen sometimes. You're just one man, remember? And I think you do a pretty good job… just being one guy without powers. You can't do everything yourself. You run a billion dollar company and you work all night putting bad guys in jail. You get three hours of sleep a night. You work way too hard, and you're going to get upset because some guy who calls himself the Penguin happened to get the upper hand for one night? Arkham is on one side of the city and the museum's on the other. You're really good at what you do, Bruce, but you're not two people. Maybe you just need a sidekick. Or a partner. But if not, you can't beat yourself up over things that you can't help."

She sounded like her father, and maybe that surprised her a bit. She hadn't meant to say so much and she certainly hadn't meant to sound as parental as she had. It had gone from pep-talk to stern talking to that she was pretty sure she'd gotten from her father once upon a time at the age of seventeen.

Just as Betty thought she'd been dismissed through silence –there was only so much awkward paper shuffling a girl could do, after all– Bruce spoke again. His voice was as dark as Betty had ever heard it. "You act as if I have any right to bring someone else into this world."

"Um, hello, I'm standing right here." She couldn't help but point to herself, giving Bruce a look as her nervousness began to slip away once more. As if she was completely in the dark about what he did at nights.

"That's different," he said almost immediately, as if he'd already known what she'd been about to say. "You're not out there putting your life at risk."

"No," Betty said, looking him square in the eye. "Instead I'm inside putting my life at risk. You're the one who wanted to fire me because you thought it was too dangerous for me to work for you, now that the Joker knows. That's dangerous, isn't it? Risky? Whatever you want to call it."

Bruce gave her a look. "It's a risk I'm still not completely comfortable with you taking."

"I'm twenty-three, Bruce, I can make my own decisions. I want to be here," she said, shaking her head. "Maybe you need a vacation."

"Abandoning Gotham is not going to help," he answered. His hand reached out for the coffee mug and he took another sip.

Betty noted that the mug wasn't steaming anymore. She trotted over to the coffee maker to the side of the room and took the pot off of the hot plate to bring back over to Bruce and top off his mug. When he nodded his thanks she smiled just slightly in recognition of the fact that there was no grunt accompanying his nod.

"I think," she started slowly. "That a vacation would be good for you. Think about it, you could just go away and take some time to relax. You'd come back feeling refreshed and maybe more focused. Not so much with the blaming yourself for every little thing that happens. Couldn't you ask someone to watch Gotham for you while you're away? Superman? Or that Green Arrow guy? Superman still owes you for that whole thing with… My-zeck-pie-lick?" Betty could feel her tongue knotting up the moment she thought about even trying to pronounce the name.

"Mr. Mxyzptlk," Bruce corrected, somehow saying the imp's name perfectly.

"Right," Betty said quickly. "Him. Superman owes you for that one. You're the one who got him to say his name backwards. Ask him to watch Gotham for a week. Go and take a vacation. Take Dick with you… you have a son now. Bond with him. Go… snowboarding together. Or something." To be honest, Betty really couldn't see Bruce snowboarding, but she was sure he got the point.

Maybe he had. Betty was surprised to see even a trace of enthusiasm cross his features. Nowhere near a smile, but it was something. Betty stepped back, coffee pot still in her hand as she waited for him to give some sign that that really had been enthusiasm she'd seen light up his eyes.

And then, the words he didn't say very often, but that she loved to hear.

"You're right."

"I am?"

"You are." Features still grim, Bruce looked straight at her. "On all counts."

"Okay, I don't remember what 'all' was, but I'm going to assume you want to go on a vacation and you want to take Dick." She smiled at him, not-so-secretly pleased with herself. "Where are you going to go?"

He was quiet for a moment before his answer came, clear and sure. "Bhutan."

Betty blinked. "Bhutan? Um… okay." She paused, deciding on exactly how dumb it would make her seem, asking her next question. "What's Bhutan? Er… more importantly, where is Bhutan, and will I be able to get anyone to fly you are Dick there?"

"It's a kingdom in South Asia, and I'll take care of travel plans." Was it her imagination or had his mood just suddenly improved? It wasn't as if he was smiling and singing a jaunty tune, but something in his demeanor had changed noticeably. Betty wasn't going to question a good thing.

"That's good," she said instead, plastering another smile on her lips. "That's great! You and Dick, seeing the world. Or, well, South Asia. When do you want to go?"

"A month from now." Betty couldn't help but notice how sure of himself he sounded. Not that she was complaining. A happy boss meant a happy day for her. She finally put the coffee pot back on the hot plate and went about finding a pen and pad to start taking notes.

"How long? One week? Two?" she asked, pen poised above the paper to jot down notes.

"Six."

Her mouth formed a small o. "Six… days?"

"Six weeks," he said.

"That's… definitely a vacation," she commented, but wrote it down hastily. "Six weeks all in Bhutan?"

Bruce nodded. "That's right. Again, don't worry about the travel– I'll deal with it. And you'll be paid for the time off, of course.

"Really? Thank you." Six weeks paid vacation was definitely not something to complain about. Her eyes were maybe a bit wide and her face may have paled (six weeks paid vacation was something Betty hadn't dreamed of having until maternity leave, and she hadn't exactly planned on taking that any time soon), but she was thrilled. "What are you going to do with Dick in Bhutan for six weeks?"

"You'd be surprised the amount of things you can do there for six weeks." He stood from behind is desk, coffee mug in hand. She watched as he walked over to the large windows that overlooked the entirety of Gotham City. Betty had never been able to go too close. Her fear of heights and a weird sort of motion sickness always got the best of her when she looked out or down.

"Probably," Betty answered honestly. She shrugged a bit, but smiled nevertheless as she slid the pen through the spiral binding on her pad so as not to lose it. "So, I'm going to go cancel your March now."

"Just move everything around. I'll take a busy February, if necessary."

It was going to be necessary, but if Bruce didn't care then neither did she. "Anyone you want me to notify specially? Like Selina?"

"Selina can find out from the papers like everyone else will, I'm sure," Bruce said simply.

"Anything else?" she figured there would be, what with this being ridiculously sudden and all.

He shook his head. "That's all."

Betty nodded and gathered her things in her arms. A final smile was offered before she turned to head out of the room.

After she'd closed his door behind her, Betty stopped for a few seconds, screwing up her face in confusion and wondering exactly what had just happened back in that office between her and Bruce. She hadn't actually expected him to take her up on her vacation suggestion. She was still a little shocked that he had. Bruce didn't just do things spontaneously. He didn't just… go places. Everything he did was carefully thought out and planned to a tee, even the crazier things he did under his billionaire playboy persona… everything was perfectly planned and executed.

As she sat down behind her desk, Betty found herself wondering exactly what was in Bhutan.