won’t accept Pattinson as a true Bruce Wayne until he has a matching asshole playboy line like Christian “let’s put some tables together…I own the place” Bale and Ben “the Daily Planet…do I own this one?” Affleck. when he does, that’s gonna be a hell of a trifecta.
While Battinson seems like he'd adopt kids upon attaining slightly more mental stability, and Batfleck is broadcasting divorced dad/dead kid dad💀, Christian Bale's Batman (balebat? Nolanbat?) gives me "has never had a fatherly urge in his life" and probably would hold a baby far away from him with his fingers, smiling uncomfortably.
bale!bruce wayne x fem!oc
summary: two years after her husband's death, renowned architect sinclaire scott - claire - returns to gotham to oversee the restoration of wayne manor. as determined as she is to keep her distance from the city and the memories that haunt her, bruce wayne is a ghost she cant ignore. ♫ hoax by taylor swift.
content includes balebat, the dark knight trilogy (specifically tdk) friends to lovers, grief, depression, alcohol use, references to death, angst, fluff, eventual spice, bruce wayne needs a hug, so does the oc
author's note: trying something different. not super psyched about it.. so if you want to see this continue, pls let me know:s
part one of ???
chapter one - "eclipsed sun"
“Miss Sinclaire Scott?” the unfamiliar English voice, said over the phone. It had taken 2 rings to get across the living room to the phone, and 2 more to contemplate picking up. She rarely did these days.
“It- it’s just Claire,” she stuttered. “Can I help you?”
“Right, ahem,” he said before pausing for a moment as if to commit the correction to memory. “Claire, this is Alfred Pennyworth.”
Alfred… Pennyworth…? She thought to herself. Why did the name sound vaguely familiar? Perhaps he was the jeweler on high street. She had taken some old coins of Philip’s there to get apprasied-
“Hello?” Alfred cut in when she didn’t answer. Claire was lost in her thoughts, as usual, but his voice brought her out of the labyrinth of her mind.
“Yes, I- I’m sorry, Alfred,” she said. “You’ll have to forgive me, my memory betrays me these days. Who- who are you?
Her memory betrays her. Ha. Well, if Alfred knew anything about Sinclaire Scott, he’d know that was a poor excuse for a 28-year-old girl. The reality of it was, she had spent too much time drinking these days instead of working or doing literally anything else productive. She told herself she was grieving, that it was her coping mechanism, no matter how poor. And while her therapist, Dr. Baker, was incredibly supportive, she did not approve of Claire’s growing dependence on alcohol. Not that Claire cared. Her days blurred together too much in the English countryside estate she practically haunted rather than inhabited.
On the other end, Alfred cleared his throat. “I am the butler and acting estate manager of Wayne Manor in Gotham.”
There had been a time when Sinclaire Scott was thee Sinclaire Scott, a renowned architect who could sketch floor plans from memory with the exact measurements after a single walkthrough. Her mind had once been sharp. So sharp, in fact, that her business, Scott Signatures, managed to attract the attention of thee Philip Barclay, a successful investment banker working at Gotham Wealth Management Group. He contracted her out for some work on his penthouse. They were married within the year.
One evening, Philip called Claire to tell her they’d have to push their reservation an hour at their favorite Italian restaurant downtown. Some acquisition wasn’t going the way he planned, and if she wanted him to buy that home for them in Paris, he’d have to stay. Claire, darling, I’ll be home soon. I know, I know, baby. Just give me an hour and I’ll be all yours. I promise.
It had to end in tragedy, though, right? Because Gotham destroys everything worth living for.
Just twenty minutes after that call, Claire and all of Gotham watched smoke pour from the upper floors of Philip’s office building. Philip Barclay died in the explosion along with dozens of others. He was 32-years-old. When GCPD showed up at the penthouse, Claire screamed loud enough to shred her throat raw.
And so, the woman with the sharp mind, who once managed multi-million dollar projects, now forgot names, ignored calls, and neglected the books at Scott Signatures completely.
The phone threatened to slip from her hand at the mention of the wretched city. Claire pressed her fingers harder around the receiver, a poor attempt at steadying herself.
“Oh,” she said, barely loud enough to hear. “I… live in London now, actually, I don’t-”
“Yes, I could tell,” Alfred said. “You’re beginning to sound like a proper Brit, if I do say so myself.”
She let a small smile come over her lips, but didn’t respond before he began again.
“Miss Scott, I must say, I am terribly sorry for your loss,” Alfred said with sincerity.
Claire’s smile left her immediately and the feeling was replaced by her chest tightening. All she could manage was a light “Mmm.”
In response, Alfred continued carefully. “Master Wayne knew Mr. Barclay. He always spoke highly of Philip and said that he was a good man. It’s a shame what happened to him, and I am sorry that he is no longer with us.”
Claire looked down at the floor and blinked away small tears that began to form. Alfred’s words meant a lot to her, but that wasn't why he was calling. When she was confident the tears would not spill down her face, she asked, “What can I do for you Mr. Pennyworth?”
“Wayne Manor is undergoing a rather… extensive restoration and expansion project. Master Wayne requires additional living quarters and several portions of the estate are in desperate need of modernization,” he said, and quieter now, “though I trust you will be certain to preserve the original architecture.”
Claire frowned slightly now, picturing the manor in her head. It was beautiful and a dream, but… “Me?” she asked. “I… I am no longer practicing. I could certainly recommend other firms, but-”
“It would be a live in position,” Alfred continued, ignoring her, politely, somehow. “Private accommodations would be provided on the grounds, alongside a generous contract, and a majority of the authority over the project.”
Claire exhaled and rubbed her forehead. “Mr. Pennyworth, that is very kind of you to offer. But I must decline. As I said, I can send some recommendations your way. I had… have, a few connections in the area that would be more than willing to take on the project. I would personally assure it would be handled with grace and respect.”
“Respectfully, Sinclaire… I mean, forgive me, Claire- I would much prefer you,” Alfred replied. “You are the very best at what you do. And Wayne Manor is a very special place, requiring someone capable of preserving its history, but also, giving it… a new life.”
She wanted to ask questions. She wanted to inquire about the manor, its current state, areas of structural weakness, the desired improvements… but all she could think about was the smoke.
“I…” she hesitated. “Thank you for the call and for the offer, Mr. Pennyworth. Truly. I’ll- I will think about it.”
“That is all I ask, Miss Scott,” he said, relieved, but composed.
She hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment after the call ended, silence slowly beginning to fill the room again. The fire in the hearth had died out hours ago. Claire sank into the sofa, finished off the glass of wine she'd been nursing, and pulled a crocheted blanket tight around herself.
She was not going back to Gotham.
The city had taken everything from her and left her hollow. There was nothing there for her besides memories she had spent the last two years trying to outrun.
But Philip would have told her to take the job. He would have smiled that easy smile of his, kissed the top of her head, caressed her face, and said something annoyingly optimistic, like “My love, this project was made only for you.”
It was hard to admit that he was right. She had worked on some beautiful places, but getting to step foot in Wayne Manor was the honor of a lifetime, let alone to restore it. She knew that. If she was the girl that she was what felt like a lifetime ago, she'd be stupid to turn down the offer but... she couldn't bring herself to consider it.
And what should she think of Bruce Wayne knowing Philip? I mean, they both knew him, of course. Everyone in Gotham did. He was a billionaire, socialite, and on the front cover of every tabloid if they had even a sliver of news about him or Wayne Enterprises. But Philip had never spoken of him. Gotham’s financial elite all knew one another in some fashion, sure, but Alfred’s words had sounded almost… personal?
And Alfred mentioned she'd have a majority of the authority. What did that mean? Claire had spent enough time working for wealthy clients to know that what was promised and what was delivered was rarely the same thing. Whatever his relationship to Philip and this project was, she did not need the Prince of Gotham breathing down her neck. But it didn't matter, now, did it?
Because under no circumstances would she ever return to Gotham. Probably.
Look, article, it is very much not unclear why he refused; he's literally always said he's not going to play Bats again unless Christopher Nolan is at the helm. It's a shame for me, personally, because I would literally have gone to the cinema to see Christian Bale as Bruce Wayne for 30 seconds because I am Deranged, but Bale has literally been saying this for over 10 years, nobody should be surprised in the least.
Also, as much as I love the MCU, and I love a cameo as much as the next media enjoyer, I think one of the Dark Knight trilogy's strengths is the fact that it stands alone and isn't part of some larger universe. When you start introducing more-than-human characters, it changes the dynamic so much and imo would undermine a lot of the world established in the nolanverse batfilms.
I would also love to have seen Christian Bale Bats and Henry Cavill Supes on screen together!
But sometimes not getting what you want as a fan is a good thing, tbh
