Not My Diagnosis

Mr. Wayne caught up with me after a while. I managed to make it a few sentences into the file I was working on when he walked in. I sighed heavily, "You can't find /anything/ to occupy yourself with while you wait?"

"I thought I would just sit in here and watch you work. I like watching you work. You're tour was... cute. And how you handled the man down the hall intrigued me. Watching you so effortlessly disarm him stirred thoughts of just how dangerous you are; it was ... arousing to say the least."

"That's nice," was my thoughtless answer as I focused on writing.

I heard him pace over to me and could feel him looming behind me. I paused in my writing, but pressed on through the distraction. His hands cupped my neck and slid down my chest. "I see you found another shirt." He started unfastening my buttons.

"You didn't expect me to try and work with the one you destroyed, did you? Especially with your little parade," I muttered as I reached up and batted his hands again, which turned to be a futile effort. I just continued to write.

"Mm... I like your choice of clothes."

"It's similar to yours." At this point he had unbuttoned me down completely, including my coat, and had his hands resting on my shoulders.

"Yes, well, they looked better on you, especially on your back," he purred.

"Your reaction to my encounter with that man should not have been sexual arousal; there is something wrong with how your synapses are firing," I said rather coldly, standing and taking the papers I needed with me. I walked out of the office, my clothes starting to fall off of my shoulders, but I didn't have a hand to tend to them and kept on down the hall.

Bruce was right on my heels as I made my way down to the first floor and into the dining hall, sitting down at one of the empty tables beyond the officers and continuing my work. "You seem to be under the impression that I care what people think. I'm Bruce Wayne. I can do whatever I want and whoever I want. Now, you can put down your books and join me up where it's nice and quiet, or I can tear the rest of your clothes off and fuck you through the table."

I flushed a bit at the terminology and threw him a daring glance. I thought, at the time, he was bluffing. I went back to writing and looking through papers and he looked around and stood up, placing a hand on my shoulder and leaning down. He whispered with a smugness to his voice, "This is you last chance." I paused and then kept writing.

He put an unbreakable grasp on my shoulders and spun me around, the chair falling to the ground. He threw me to the table and tore my shirt open, assaulting my neck, his hands working at unfastening my pants. While I was busy fighting him off I watched everyone stand and mouths fall agape. He managed to pull my trousers to my thighs when I let a full kick loose on him and he stumbled backwards, chuckling a little. I huffed as I sat up, straightening my glasses and fixing my pants as I stood.

"What are you all looking at? The demonstration of his insanity is over. I believe you all have tasks to busy yourselves with," I breathed to the employees and patrons. "Tell me, gentlemen, how was the food? To your satisfaction?" They nodded, all of them still not as busy as I would like. I grabbed my papers and walked from the room, parting with, "Please, feel free to stay as long as you like; I may need the protection." Their eyes followed me out and I almost started into a run up the stairs and down to my office.

I stormed in and slammed the door, locking it and setting the chair against it. 'Who does he think he is? He could have cost me my license.' I threw the papers to the desk and kneeled, about to write when I realised my frustration was impairing me. I took my glasses off and set them on the desk, putting my hands together by the fingertips in front of my face, staring through them as I tried to think.

I exhaled slowly and replaced my glasses, writing quickly as the thoughts came to me. Several minutes passed and I expected a knock, but there came none. Maybe he finally took the hint. I kept in my writing and shook my head.


~~*~~


It was several hours later when I finally finished all of the reports I needed to have done. I had what I needed sorted and copied and I unbarred the door and walked out, looking around. I saw nothing. I paced up to the third floor and was taken aback by Him standing by one of the cells, staring in through the observation window. I stopped and waited. It was a little awkward as we had been at arms with each other.

"I wonder how many of these people are of your work," he contemplated, still staring at cell 67.

"Seven of the twelve are mine. They are all from your prison. Falcone is down the hall if you wish to see him," I spoke smoothly, effortlessly, like talking to a client. I place the files along side the appropriate doors, stopping at the one he was watching.

"What's wrong with her?" He asked quietly.

"I'm afraid that's confidential information," I stated as I set her file in the hanger by her door.

"Is she one of yours??" He turned on me, his eyes piercing.

I took a sharp breath and exhaled with, "No."

I continued down that half of the hallway. "My patients do not exhibit physical symptoms most of the time. They lay there and panic. Their fear is paralyzing. It wouldn't make sense for me to make a toxin that caused them to flail like that." I placed the last file in its slot and walked back over to him.

He shook his head and turned to me. I gave him an irritated look and leaned against the wall with my arms crossed. "I'm not impressed with your demonstration earlier. You could have cost me my license."

"You shouldn't have your license with what you do."

"I know scandal is all your Wayne life is about, but I cannot afford it."

"It's not like I couldn't have bought any of your dignity back anyway."

I frowned. "That's not the point."

He waved his hand dismissively, "I'm tired of fighting. Let's go make up," he chuckled.

"What happened to your remorse for that woman?"

"I can't fix her. That's why I pay you. Besides, I've been feeling pretty down lately; I need some lightness of spirit." He encroached upon me, and started reworking the buttons down my shirt. "Are you going to show me your room?"

"I think I should have you evaluated." I batted at his hands as they came at my shirt.

"You just drive me crazy," he laughed, ripping at the unfastened section of my shirt, popping a few of the buttons off.

I reached for the slide of the viewing window he was looking through and slid it closed and slipped out from underneath him, swiftly making my way down the hall to the dead end. I could feel him on my heels and I lunged into a short run, reaching the door, unlocking it and making my way in before he could reach it.

"Little crane, little crane, let me in," was what barely made it's way through the seal of the door.

I would have responded, but I knew it wouldn't reach him. I just had to wait for him to figure out that I had dropped the keys outside the door.

About five minutes had passed and I had taken the time to finish unfastening my coat, sliding it slightly off my shoulders and unfastening the fly of my pants. I went and sat against the far wall on the padded, fold-out bed, legs spread and leaning back, supporting myself with my hands.

The lock clicked and I smirked to myself as he barged through, slamming the door behind him, and in this time he hadn't noticed me until the door clicked shut and he stood, locking his focus on me. He stepped back, a look of disbelief running his face before a feral grin overcame his features. The smirk I had turned into a grin as he approached, shedding his coat.

He reached for me and hesitated, running his hands along the outline of my body, his eyes devouring all there was. He chuckled a little and straightened, making quick work of his shirt before laying waste to my skin.

He pushed my shirt down my arms more and planted soft kisses along my skin with unbridled hope that they would grow into something. He picked me up by the shoulders and laid me down on the cushioned floor, his lips making their round along my neck again. His hands cased my torso and down to my hips where the infiltrated the edge of my covering down there.

I gasped and arched up against him, my hands gliding down his back and to the edge of his pants, sneaking under his belt. He pulled away from my neck for a moment to take a labored breath. "How long has it been?" He went back to my neck.

I took in a gasp of air to answer. "Three weeks, four days, seventeen hours and approximately twenty-one minutes." He pulled away from me and sat up, pulling me up and spinning me around, proceeding with pulling me back against his body. He ground his hips against mine and kissed at the nape of my neck through my hair. I reached back and played with fabric on his legs, wherein he trailed his right hand around my waist and down my front until he retrieved the object of his desires from its restraints, stroking it tenderly at first.

I leaned back into him, my head lolling back onto his shoulder. He raised his fingertips to his lips and coated them with saliva, lowering them back down to an aching part of me that needed a good massage. He ran his slick fingers along the bottom of the extension and I breathed out a soft moan. A firm grip came soon after and rhythmic stroking which produced a heavier sound from me as my hands grasped the fabric of his pants.

My breath grew labored and I barely felt my glasses leave my face. He kissed my shoulders a few times before removing himself from me again. I whimpered and nearly fell forward; and then did. I turned my body before I hit and lay there in my pitiful, helpless existence. He drew the back of his hand over my face and cooed at me, his eyes ablaze.

He lifted me in the usual fashion and pulled me onto his kneeling lap. I straddled him, my trousers only allowing for so much, but it was accomplished. He pulled me closer until my endowment and his collided. I hadn't seen him brandish it, which was usually a fun part for me, but I suppose I was having more fun than usual.

He inserted his fingers into my mouth and I sucked at them absentmindedly, not quite able to make out his face yet. "Crane?"

"Hm?" He patted my cheek a few times. "What?" I blinked a few times, refocusing my sight upon him.

He chuckled softly, "Nothing." He reached down and polished the underside of himself, grasping us together and firmly continuing the task he had set on me moments ago. I leaned backwards, my clothing collecting at my elbows. His left arm caught me at the bend in my back before I left his company. A groan strained itself out of me along with a gasp as he leaned in and bit at the tender flesh on my chest.

I could feel him start to huff against my chest as his breath hastened, mine all ready far gone from that point. He stroked faster and harder and noises of gratitude found themselves leaving my lips, my body still dependent on his to keep my upright. He pulled me in closer and set to the needing flesh on my neck, his hips starting to rock against mine as his pace graduated.

My hands hand fondled around for his thighs and found them in their restraint, kneading them as he worked. "Harder," is what I managed to form between whimpers and moans. I opened my eyes and pulled my head forward as he pulled back from my neck for a moment to make sure he heard me correctly. I grinned lazily as his eyes examined mine. He tightened his grip and roughened his methodology. A stomached moan that incorporated "Mr. Wayne" fell out as my head fell back again and he let loose on random parts of my upper body.

His hips bucked against me harder and I could feel the numbness start to spark through my body. I shuddered as my climax came and found my chest, soon followed by that of Mr. Wayne with a final fews thrusts up against me. I let out a shuddered breath as he dropped me to the floor. I landed with a puff and weighed down my restrained arms, his eyes feeding on the sight of me before him. I closed my eyes, relaxing back as I tried to catch my breath, giggling for a reason relatively unbeknownst to me.

"You'll have to give me a moment. It's been a while," he panted, standing to remove his pants and boxers. He stretched as I watched him with unrelinquished joy, still giggling a little as every muscle that flexed crossed my sight. "Well, what shall we try next?" He turned, staring me down as I lay, a morsel to his sexual appetite.

"I might need more time," I laughed.

"I doubt it." He leaned down and pulled me up, looking me over and grinning. I grinned in response, hoping it would be something gentle, but I soon recognized the intention behind his seemingly harmless smile as he spun me around and put me into the downy wall. My face pushed into the padding along with part of my chest. He placed a firm grip on my hips, his hands trying to eat my skin.

A small mewling noise made an attempt at convincing him to be gentle, but it didn't quite get the message across as he took the fluid from my stomach and chest and furnished his reinvigorated manhood. "You treat me too much like a woman.," I growled against the wall, writhing underneath his grasp.

He just chuckled and said, "I wouldn't do it if you didn't like it."

"I just can't help but feel our repetition in this particular position is social repression of your true sexual nature." At this point he had let me go and straightened myself.

"Oh," was what came and more out revelation than curiosity. "That's what this is about. I thought you were talking about the kissing. I see." His hands migrated across my torso again and back to rest on my hips. "Let me then, disprove your theory."

{It's finally up. My backup hard drive kicked in. and I found the story. I will be updating weekly from now on seeing as how school has started. I hope you enjoy the predecessing smut scene you've all been reading for. Have fun.
~Dr. Crane}