The Schemer

The Warrior

"You have a reliable informer, Mr Wayne."

"My informer happens to have a soft spot towards you, Doctor." Mirth was heard in Wayne's voice, a barely noticeable smile playing on his lips. His tone was polite enough to trick a bull into a friendship, and yet, Clara had a strange, gnawing feeling about the man.

"Then I should pray that his fondness would not disappear anytime soon if it continuously provides me such pleasant company." Her words made Wayne lift his eyebrows, mouth quirking even further.

"You're just as intricate as Lucius told me you were. If I weren't ready for a riddle to be incarnated in woman's body," His eyes drifted towards Clara's desk, taking in the unfinished construction, "I would have been extremely confused. Probably would have interpreted your sarcasm as honest pleasantries." Here, that honest, friend-like smile appeared once more. The man didn't take offence, apparently, or at least he hid it very well. 

"My bantering should not be taken as an insult, Mr Wayne."

"I assure that none is taken."

Clara nodded, acknowledging his statement. It was time for the real purpose of his visit to be revealed. "As much as I would like to stay here and continue chatting, I have to perform a surgery in less than twenty minutes. Is there something important that you wanted to talk about?"

"Well, not something as significant as saving somebody's life, I'm afraid. In a few days, I'm throwing a fundraiser party in honour of Harvey Dent. I would love to see you there too, Doctor."

"Gotham's White Knight? Is this some kind of attempt to publicly show your own benevolent position in terms of his actions? Agreement with the vision of Gotham's future that he has?" Cynicism could be noticed in Clara's low, husky tone, one eyebrow lifted, giving her face a sceptical appearance.

"Are you telling me you don't share my affection?"

"I have my doubts, Mr Wayne. A pretty face and empty talk do not eliminate them."

"Well, then give the man himself a chance to clear your mistrust." Silence followed his proposition, warm brown eyes locked with guarded, steely ones. Bruce could detect the doctor's reluctance to accept his offer. "Furthermore, Lucius informed me how exactly you tend to spend your evenings, Clara." Addressing her by name, Clara mused, the man tried to create a feeling of trust, an acquaintance. "Give the poor man a break for the evening, and come to me. Your punches severely affect his grumpiness." Mentioning of her mentor, instructor and also a man who managed to earn her trust broke something inside Clara. 

"I will make an appearance." The shock of such quick change in behaviour momentarily wiped the man's mouth of any positive emotion, only for it to come even brighter. Bruce's smile was genuine and broad. Not an ear-to-ear grin, but wide none the less. 

"Perfect. I will contact you sometime in the evening for further details, immediately when I get back from Hong Kong." Stretching his hand once more, Wayne continued. "I will not disturb you anymore, Doctor. I'm sure somebody is waiting for your skills to be used." 

Clara did not reply, only nodding once, giving him a handshake. She did not question how the man got her number. After all, being a billionaire had its perks in terms of collecting personal information. 

Immediately after Wayne left, the woman decided to also follow his actions, leaving an unfinished house of cards behind. Somebody's cancer was more important than the stupid game. It's not. 

Clara exited the cabinet, making her way towards the operating room. The fourth one was used specifically for reproductive organs' surgeries. When it came to the world of medical tools, some of them were universal, but the majority were specialized for specific cases. It was much easier to dedicate an operating room with needed instruments for one kind of organ, rather than keep transferring and mixing them up. When she finally arrived, the whole team of residents and nurses was already there, ready to do their job. It took five minutes for Clara to get ready, too. After washing her hands and arms, putting on a white coat, a mask, a head cap and gloves, she was ready to dig inside Miranda's body, identify damaged tissue of her ovaries, and cut it out.