Fic: Splintered, Part 6 (2 of 2)
Part 6.1
Bruce saw Zatanna waiting for them around the corner from the entrance to Le Cirque. Although she wore the blonde wig and he could swear she'd added a few inches to her height, he recognized her mischievous violet-blue eyes and characteristic grin.
The maitre d'hotel met them at the door. "Mr. Wayne, it's a pleasure to see you again. Madam Ambassador." He bowed. "And Ms.…"
"Zatara," Bruce said.
"Ms. Zatara," the maitre d' repeated. "Right this way, please."
They entered the private room that had obviously been reserved for them, as only three places had been set. Almost immediately, a waiter came and took their drink orders.
As soon as the waiter left the room, closing the door behind him, Bruce got up and extracted a small device from his belt. He walked around the room, slowly scanning for listening devices or hidden cameras. Behind him, he heard "Etaerc ycavirp elbbub," indicating that Zatanna had the same idea.
Bruce finished just as he heard the waiter's footsteps, and hastened to sit down.
The waiter entered with their drinks; handing a glass of chardonnay to Diana, a Cosmopolitan to Zatanna, and a glass of pinot noir to Bruce. "Your appetizers will be ready momentarily," he said, just before leaving again.
Now settled, they took a moment to enjoy the view. The room had an uninterrupted view of the Bellagio Lake that fronted the Strip. Across the street, the Eiffel Tower, albeit one-half the size of the original, towered above the Paris Hotel. He could see that Diana was staring at the same thing, and he knew her well enough to know what she was thinking.
“At least we’ll always have Paris.” He winked.
“It’s a nice memory,” she allowed, then squeezed his hand under the table. “Some better than others. What are we having for dinner? Appetizers?”
"I didn't think we'd want a heavy meal this late," Bruce said. Neither he nor Diana preferred to eat much before a mission, and he'd expected Zatanna would probably feel the same.
Zatanna shrugged. "I can't complain. After all, you're buying, and he who pays the piper calls the tune."
Bruce leaned forward slightly. "And what sort of tune do you think Circe has in mind?"
"I chatted up some of the stagehands," Zatanna began, "and managed to learn a few things. Mike's been at the Wynn ever since it opened, and he's never seen anything like this before. Apparently they had some other act booked for the next few months, but one day 'Anaid' showed up, and the next thing he knew, she was performing instead. Acts typically book way in advance, so that was unusual to say the least."
"Circe can be very persuasive," Diana said, grimacing slightly.
"Did Mike notice anything else unusual?" Bruce asked.
Zatanna thought for a moment. "She's got the ego of a headliner, that's for sure, but that's not unusual. No, nothing else drew his attention, other than the flute. He said she's obsessed with the flute - won't ever let it out of her sight, and throws a fit if anyone else touches it."
Diana was fuming. "She shouldn't be touching it."
"Where is she staying?"
"At the Wynn, but it sounds like her room isn't nearly as nice as yours. It's closer to the ground. Oh, and apparently she's not a morning person. Hardly surprising; most performers aren't."
"Then we'll confront her tomorrow morning," Diana said firmly. "I've been waiting a long time for this."
"I know." Bruce squeezed her hand under the table. "But she's going to be on her guard. She knows who I am."
Both women looked surprised. "How do you know?" Zatanna asked.
He described what happened at the beginning of the show. Diana hadn't been aware of it, even though Circe had been right next to her, and Zatanna hadn't noticed either.
Zatanna nodded thoughtfully. "A time elasticity spell, maybe. That's how she did it. But I guess Diana and I are beneath her notice. Should we be insulted?"
Diana turned to her. "It has nothing to do with worth or abilities - just anatomy. Circe's man-crazy; always has been. She kept Odysseus around for a year as her boy-toy."
"Right. So maybe Gotham's most eligible bachelor here can distract her while you and I get the flute."
"That's a good idea. Can you cast a locator spell so we don't have to waste time searching her quarters? Or can you transport it directly?"
"She's probably got her quarters warded, so I don't think I can cast anything from a distance. But if Bruce keeps her occupied…"
"I'm right here, you know," he reminded them.
The waiter returned, carrying a laden tray. Setting it down on the stand, he placed the plates on the table, identifying each one as he did. " 'Le Cirque' lobster salad with black truffle dressing; house cured wild salmon carpaccio with French lentils, scallions, ginger, spiced oil and baby vegetables; Cinderella squash velouté with smoked pheasant, cinnamon chantilly and watercress; and sautéed duck foie gras with seasonal fruit. Enjoy." He bowed and left.
Perhaps it's just the wine, but Diana's looking more relaxed now. Good.
"Nice meal," Zatanna commented. "Much nicer than I usually have after a show."
"What do you usually eat?" Diana asked, between bites.
"Peanut butter and jelly," Zatanna admitted, abashed. "Or chicken salad. Comfort food, really. I've got a mini fridge in my dressing room."
"How do you manage to keep up with your performance and still be part of the League? I’m having trouble with my ambassadorial duties, and they're not on a specific schedule."
"Mr. Terrific has my show schedule, and he takes that into account. Fortunately, there haven't been many emergencies" - and she knocked on the table - "that have required my specific skills. It's not like I'm the only magic-user either.
"And that's a good thing," she continued. "I may need some help to figure out a counterspell for the Tears of Aphrodite. At least your absence from Gotham will give me a little extra time to plan."
"And Catwoman extra time to plan as well," Bruce said, setting down his fork.
* * *
Outside Le Cirque, Zatanna said, "I don't know about you two, but I'm feeling lucky tonight. The poker tables are calling me. See ya!" With a wink, she left.
Diana turned to Bruce, a slight smile on her face. "You don't suppose she'll use any of her…advantages?"
"I doubt it. Magician's honor."
"It's nice to know an honorable sorceress."
They made their way out to the Strip and joined the crowd entranced by the Bellagio fountains, anonymous for the moment. The lights dimmed as the fountain’s signature song, “Con Te Partiro” by Andrea Bocelli and Sarah Brightman, rang out from the speakers surrounding the lake. The fountain jets were choreographed to the song, synchronized to the highs and lows of the notes. It was Vegas schtick at its highest form, but it was mesmerizing nevertheless.
The song ended and the crowd clapped enthusiastically. Bruce turned to find the escalator that would take them to the sky-bridge that crossed back to the Wynn side of the Strip, but hesitated when another song began. He listened for a while but couldn't place the artist.
And sometimes when we touch,
The honesty's too much,
And I have to close my eyes and hide.
I want to hold you till I die,
Till we both break down and cry.
I want to hold you till the fear in me subsides.
He felt Diana's hand clasp his, then squeeze it gently.
Turning to look at her, he saw that she was smiling slightly. She looked hopeful.
She's not giving up on me.
Thank God.
Musical Credits:
"Big Spender" - Cy Coleman/Dorothy Fields
"Fever" - Otis Blackwell/Eddie Cooley
"The Nearness of You" - Hoagy Carmichael/Ned Washington
"Sometimes When We Touch" - Dan Hill/Barry Mann
Part 7.1
Bruce saw Zatanna waiting for them around the corner from the entrance to Le Cirque. Although she wore the blonde wig and he could swear she'd added a few inches to her height, he recognized her mischievous violet-blue eyes and characteristic grin.
The maitre d'hotel met them at the door. "Mr. Wayne, it's a pleasure to see you again. Madam Ambassador." He bowed. "And Ms.…"
"Zatara," Bruce said.
"Ms. Zatara," the maitre d' repeated. "Right this way, please."
They entered the private room that had obviously been reserved for them, as only three places had been set. Almost immediately, a waiter came and took their drink orders.
As soon as the waiter left the room, closing the door behind him, Bruce got up and extracted a small device from his belt. He walked around the room, slowly scanning for listening devices or hidden cameras. Behind him, he heard "Etaerc ycavirp elbbub," indicating that Zatanna had the same idea.
Bruce finished just as he heard the waiter's footsteps, and hastened to sit down.
The waiter entered with their drinks; handing a glass of chardonnay to Diana, a Cosmopolitan to Zatanna, and a glass of pinot noir to Bruce. "Your appetizers will be ready momentarily," he said, just before leaving again.
Now settled, they took a moment to enjoy the view. The room had an uninterrupted view of the Bellagio Lake that fronted the Strip. Across the street, the Eiffel Tower, albeit one-half the size of the original, towered above the Paris Hotel. He could see that Diana was staring at the same thing, and he knew her well enough to know what she was thinking.
“At least we’ll always have Paris.” He winked.
“It’s a nice memory,” she allowed, then squeezed his hand under the table. “Some better than others. What are we having for dinner? Appetizers?”
"I didn't think we'd want a heavy meal this late," Bruce said. Neither he nor Diana preferred to eat much before a mission, and he'd expected Zatanna would probably feel the same.
Zatanna shrugged. "I can't complain. After all, you're buying, and he who pays the piper calls the tune."
Bruce leaned forward slightly. "And what sort of tune do you think Circe has in mind?"
"I chatted up some of the stagehands," Zatanna began, "and managed to learn a few things. Mike's been at the Wynn ever since it opened, and he's never seen anything like this before. Apparently they had some other act booked for the next few months, but one day 'Anaid' showed up, and the next thing he knew, she was performing instead. Acts typically book way in advance, so that was unusual to say the least."
"Circe can be very persuasive," Diana said, grimacing slightly.
"Did Mike notice anything else unusual?" Bruce asked.
Zatanna thought for a moment. "She's got the ego of a headliner, that's for sure, but that's not unusual. No, nothing else drew his attention, other than the flute. He said she's obsessed with the flute - won't ever let it out of her sight, and throws a fit if anyone else touches it."
Diana was fuming. "She shouldn't be touching it."
"Where is she staying?"
"At the Wynn, but it sounds like her room isn't nearly as nice as yours. It's closer to the ground. Oh, and apparently she's not a morning person. Hardly surprising; most performers aren't."
"Then we'll confront her tomorrow morning," Diana said firmly. "I've been waiting a long time for this."
"I know." Bruce squeezed her hand under the table. "But she's going to be on her guard. She knows who I am."
Both women looked surprised. "How do you know?" Zatanna asked.
He described what happened at the beginning of the show. Diana hadn't been aware of it, even though Circe had been right next to her, and Zatanna hadn't noticed either.
Zatanna nodded thoughtfully. "A time elasticity spell, maybe. That's how she did it. But I guess Diana and I are beneath her notice. Should we be insulted?"
Diana turned to her. "It has nothing to do with worth or abilities - just anatomy. Circe's man-crazy; always has been. She kept Odysseus around for a year as her boy-toy."
"Right. So maybe Gotham's most eligible bachelor here can distract her while you and I get the flute."
"That's a good idea. Can you cast a locator spell so we don't have to waste time searching her quarters? Or can you transport it directly?"
"She's probably got her quarters warded, so I don't think I can cast anything from a distance. But if Bruce keeps her occupied…"
"I'm right here, you know," he reminded them.
The waiter returned, carrying a laden tray. Setting it down on the stand, he placed the plates on the table, identifying each one as he did. " 'Le Cirque' lobster salad with black truffle dressing; house cured wild salmon carpaccio with French lentils, scallions, ginger, spiced oil and baby vegetables; Cinderella squash velouté with smoked pheasant, cinnamon chantilly and watercress; and sautéed duck foie gras with seasonal fruit. Enjoy." He bowed and left.
Perhaps it's just the wine, but Diana's looking more relaxed now. Good.
"Nice meal," Zatanna commented. "Much nicer than I usually have after a show."
"What do you usually eat?" Diana asked, between bites.
"Peanut butter and jelly," Zatanna admitted, abashed. "Or chicken salad. Comfort food, really. I've got a mini fridge in my dressing room."
"How do you manage to keep up with your performance and still be part of the League? I’m having trouble with my ambassadorial duties, and they're not on a specific schedule."
"Mr. Terrific has my show schedule, and he takes that into account. Fortunately, there haven't been many emergencies" - and she knocked on the table - "that have required my specific skills. It's not like I'm the only magic-user either.
"And that's a good thing," she continued. "I may need some help to figure out a counterspell for the Tears of Aphrodite. At least your absence from Gotham will give me a little extra time to plan."
"And Catwoman extra time to plan as well," Bruce said, setting down his fork.
* * *
Outside Le Cirque, Zatanna said, "I don't know about you two, but I'm feeling lucky tonight. The poker tables are calling me. See ya!" With a wink, she left.
Diana turned to Bruce, a slight smile on her face. "You don't suppose she'll use any of her…advantages?"
"I doubt it. Magician's honor."
"It's nice to know an honorable sorceress."
They made their way out to the Strip and joined the crowd entranced by the Bellagio fountains, anonymous for the moment. The lights dimmed as the fountain’s signature song, “Con Te Partiro” by Andrea Bocelli and Sarah Brightman, rang out from the speakers surrounding the lake. The fountain jets were choreographed to the song, synchronized to the highs and lows of the notes. It was Vegas schtick at its highest form, but it was mesmerizing nevertheless.
The song ended and the crowd clapped enthusiastically. Bruce turned to find the escalator that would take them to the sky-bridge that crossed back to the Wynn side of the Strip, but hesitated when another song began. He listened for a while but couldn't place the artist.
And sometimes when we touch,
The honesty's too much,
And I have to close my eyes and hide.
I want to hold you till I die,
Till we both break down and cry.
I want to hold you till the fear in me subsides.
He felt Diana's hand clasp his, then squeeze it gently.
Turning to look at her, he saw that she was smiling slightly. She looked hopeful.
She's not giving up on me.
Thank God.
Musical Credits:
"Big Spender" - Cy Coleman/Dorothy Fields
"Fever" - Otis Blackwell/Eddie Cooley
"The Nearness of You" - Hoagy Carmichael/Ned Washington
"Sometimes When We Touch" - Dan Hill/Barry Mann
Part 7.1