long overdue

[watchesthewatchers]

It's Ricki's little ramshackle apartment, but there Peter is one morning, perched on the loveseat, reading a file, waiting for Bruce Wayne to arrive.

He has a gun, but tucked out of sight, not on his person. Just in case.

Comments

[watchesthewatchers]

"Peter."

He corrects, faintly, into his wine, heat rising up in his face.

"I'm sorry, I'm making a fool of myself. I really should leave you two, let me-"

[lasiurus]

Bruce needs to maintain the airhead act, but he feels a little bad for it now.

"No, stay. He'll want to see you. I'm about the only person he knows here. How did you find this place though? I didn't know Tony was sending anything to this address. ...I sound kind of like a Norman Bates stalker figure there, don't I?"

[watchesthewatchers]

"He found me at Tony's."

He explains, settling down a tiny bit.

"I was visiting him there when Ricki came in for one of their meetings. We arranged that I'd come by for a day or two. He's been working, but I've been visiting the city, a little."

[lasiurus]

"Come by for what?"

And this time, Bruce is more serious. There's a small touch of a threat there.

[watchesthewatchers]

"I'm sorry- I didn't realize. Are you monogamous?"

Doe eyed surprise. Drop a bomb, avoid a question.

[lasiurus]

They're not, but Bruce has slept with exactly two people in the last twelve years. It does skew his view of polyamory a bit.

But mostly, it's the fact that Peter was Ricki's handler, and he knows exactly how dangerous and manipulative those people are. He sets the glass aside, and appears loose and relaxed--it's actually more dangerous than if he had been tense.

"What do you want with him, Peter? To tempt him back to the fold?"

[watchesthewatchers]

"To make sure you don't get him killed. You're good at that, Mister Wayne."

Peter answers, sweetly, lacing his fingers together and setting his chin on his hands.

[lasiurus]

That hits home. Hard.

"I'm not the one who dangled his daughter's welfare over his head so I could send him into warzones, Peter. I'm not the one who lied to him about his informant being dead. And I'm not the one who cut him loose and burned him when his cover was blown. If you think you're going to show up here and manipulate him again, I will stop you. I don't care what you are to Tony."

[watchesthewatchers]

"One, I found out about his daughter seven years into our working relationship. Two, the second thing never happened, but it's interesting that he obviously hasn't told you a single thing about how the end of his career came. Three, he asked me to come. I'm not recruiting him. As you so astutely pointed out, he no longer has a cover."

Ticking off on his long, graceful fingers.

"And Irena wasn't an informant. That was an ugly necessity that saved hundreds of lives. You may not care what I am to Tony, but he knows where I am and he'll kill you if I disappear. Amateur."

[lasiurus]

"He could try."

It looks, though, as if Bruce is going to just swallow back what Peter had said.

"The thing is, I wouldn't make you disappear. I'm not a murderer."

And then with dangerous precision, he's thrown his wine glass into Peter's face and using the distraction (and potential wine-blinding) to leap forward to tackle him onto the ground.

[watchesthewatchers]

Peter goes down and lands badly, stool and his own wineglass coming with him in a tinkle of cracked glass.

He knows he's outmatched, so stays limp as a ragdoll underneath him, breath punched out of his lungs by the impact.

He manages to gasp out;

"Feeling strong?"

[lasiurus]

Bruce punches his jaw, and then again in the same place. Just a little higher and he could have dislocated it, but he wants Peter to keep talking.

Spies come armed, he knows that, so he pins one of Peter's arms under his knee and forces Peter's other wrist around so if he struggles it will snap. This way he can search him with relative ease with his remaining hand.

"Who told you?"

About Rachel. About it being his fault.

[watchesthewatchers]

Perfect. It'll come up with ugly bruising. He gives him a slow, calculating look, and tells him;

"Let my hand go or I'll break it. We aren't playing the game you think we are. You don't want to lose any more than you already have."

[lasiurus]

He just glares at him and digs for that gun. There's not a chance he's letting Peter up if he's armed. Breaking a bone would be so satisfying right now...

But he doesn't know how Ricki would react. He's sure Tony will side with Peter over this, but he'll stress about that later. When no one will see.

"He's not yours anymore. Get used to that."

[watchesthewatchers]

"I'm here to share a bloody curry, not send him into battle unarmed. That's your job."

He snarls, and then thrashes, hard, perfectly and resolutely intent on snapping that bone.

Peter's determination can be, frankly, terrifying.

[lasiurus]

There's a gun involved, which means Bruce is as immovable as a mountain. He would rather let Peter maim himself head to toe than allow him access to a weapon...

And so he lets that wrist snap, and grabs the gun.

[watchesthewatchers]

Peter's head falls back with a gasp, and goes still again in his grip with a careful chuckle.

"Going to shoot me too? For what, not pulling a gun on you? I'd never harm you, he's half in love with you."

[lasiurus]

He takes the gun apart and keeps the clip.

"Sure you wouldn't. You care about him now that he's not on your bankroll, right?"

He scoffs, and gets his phone to call Ricki. And then he'll call an ambulance.

[watchesthewatchers]

The phone rings, and Peter's head lifts sharply. It's from the street outside.

"Let me up, now. He's coming."

Ordering him, quietly.

[lasiurus]

He looks like he might just hit him again. He wants to so badly he's almost ashamed of himself.

He pushes up and goes to meet Ricki; Peter can find his own way.

[watchesthewatchers]

He drags the stool upright with the good arm, and then toes the glass to one side, cradling the hurt arm to his chest.

It isn't long before Ricki answers the phone, voice drifting up as he climbs the stairs.

"Hello, you. What are you up to?"

[lasiurus]

He meets him at the landing, tense and anxious and looking like a kitten that's been stepped on. He gives him a very weak smile and turns his phone off.

"There was a visitor when I got here."

[rickitikitarr]

"Peter still about?"

Asks Ricki, curiously, juggling two bags of Indian food.

"I should have warned you he was in town. I didn't realize you'd be on your way over."

Leaning up the steps to give him a deft kiss.

[lasiurus]

He returns it perhaps a little too fervently, just in case Ricki decides that ought to be the last kiss they have.

"He is. I'm sorry, I didn't know you'd have company, I was just...."

Not the point.

"He doesn't like me. I had to disarm him. Uh, he...broke his wrist. We should probably get him to a hospital."

[rickitikitarr]

"Jesus! Of course he's armed, Bruce-"

Bursting up the stairs, past him, in to the little apartment.

The window is cracked, Peter is nowhere to be found. Ricki staggers to a halt, drops the food on the counter, and takes a deep breath. Then another.