30/30 - Workout

by Darklady and Chicago

Disclaimers and other information in "Opening Credits"

Rating: PG

"What about Gardner's suggestion?" As J'onn read, one line on Batman's monitor screen glowed green. "A class at a Fitness Club is a great place to take girls."

"I'm sure he means to pick up girls." Batman rapidly scrolled down the list. "Guy Gardner not being a figure I think of when I hear the word 'romantic'."

J'onn brought the disputed text back up. "Have you done it?"

The cowled man automatically shot off the 'excuse me' look - only by last-minute effort managing to soften it to the milder 'What?' This might be an exercise in new experiences, but Bruce was fairly certain that being exiled to his own sofa was neither romantic not an experience he desired.

The disputed line again appeared - this time in bold. "I asked if you had tried it?"

"I belong to the Gotham Athletic Club." Batman wasn't sure where J'onn was going - but he hadn't become tactician of he JLA without learning a certain caution around traps. Which this most evidently was. Unfortunately - recognizing a trap was not the same as knowing how to diffuse it. "Sometimes Ollie and I used play racquetball." There - Batman thought. An unenticing image if ever there was one. He risked a glance at J'onn.

Who was... the hair rose at the nape of Batman's neck... smiling.

"Jasmina darling!" an effusive male voice called, followed an instant later by the appearance of a tall, well built, olive skinned man with a good tan and perfect teeth. He mounted the final stairs up to the observation level of the gym and met Jasmina del Marte with air kisses that she returned.

"What have you been up to, you naughty thing?" the man scolded. "Canceling appointments, running around with ..." His voice trailed off as he saw Jasmina's companion, who extended his hand.

"Bruce Wayne," he introduced himself.

"I see," the first man commented with a hint of disdain before returning his attention to Jasmina. "Well, I see you're still attached, silly girl. At least you've been keeping your figure, but I do think you've been skimping on your glute exercises."

"Oh, I don't think so," Bruce remarked, an undercurrent of danger lurking beneath the mild tone.

"Bruce," Jasmina chided. "This is Raoul, my personal trainer. Raoul, be nice to Bruce."

Raoul sniffed in a vaguely affronted fashion. "Come along, then, Bruce." His eyes scanned Bruce's body critically. "We'll see if you can keep up with Jasmina's regimen."

Raoul turned without further comment, making a vague beckoning gesture toward Jasmina. "Let's get going, girlfriend."

Jasmina gave Bruce a warning look, which was answered by something very close to a Bat glare. She took his hand and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Be good," she ordered, then led him down to the gym floor.

"Let me take some of the weight-"

"That won't be necessary," Bruce stated brusquely, settling under the chest press.

Raoul raised his hands. "You want to kill yourself, it's all good."

"Bruce-" Jasmina stopped, recognizing the futility of dissuading Bruce from his ego-bruised display. She wasn't sure how Raoul had managed to get beneath the "Brucie" skin, but as Bruce settled on the nautilus bench, it was clear that he was going to put on a show of strength.

She shook her head and returned to her pilates, pausing when Raoul's coaching suddenly trailed off. "Ay, mama," he murmured softly, and Jasmina followed his gaze.

Bruce was doing reps at a steady pace, sweat beginning to show on his body and stick his t-shirt to his chest. The flex of his pecs was obvious, and the sculpted quality of his body was not lost on Raoul.

"Raoul," she complained, with a pout. "Mine."

"I got no problem with seconds," Raoul answered with a hint of a leer. "I see why you keep him around though."

"Mine and straight," Jasmina said pointedly.

Raoul glanced down at her. "He just hasn't met the right man."


But she could tell it was already too late.

"So if you're ever in Rio, look me up." Raoul held Bruce's handshake a moment too long, met his eyes a little too meaningfully. Jasmina could feel Bruce mentally squirming.

"I'll do that," he lied blandly, his free hand clenching Jasmina's as his mind projected a firm "let's go" message.

"I'll see you next month, Raoul," Jasmina stated, pulling Bruce toward the door and forcing Raoul to release Bruce's hand.

"Mmm-hmm. I'll see you both then. Ta!"

Raoul barely had time for a finger waggling wave before Bruce had Jasmina out in the street and walking briskly away from the gym. "That was AWFUL," he complained.

Jasmina gave him a sideways look. "I dunno. I'm glad my trainer thinks you're cute. He has good taste."

"He's a vapid... HIMBO!"

"Bruce!" Jasmina sounded shocked. "Where on earth did you pick up that word?"

Her flippancy earned a glower from her lover.

"Oh, poor Bruce," she soothed, resting her fingers on his shoulders. "You're so tense!"

"You're surprised? Let's get back to Gotham so I can get to work."

"It's barely noon, Bruce."

"I've got cases open," he muttered, stalking down the street and only pausing when he realized Jasmina had stopped steps behind. "What?" he snapped.

She crossed her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow.

He sighed. "I'm sorry. I just -" He shuddered.

She shook her head. "I think what you need right now is not work. I think what you need is a nice hotel and a massage."

He gave her a suspicious look that provoked a laugh from her.

"No, no, I won't make you fend off another of Jasmina's circle." She projected an image into his mind of a auburn haired beauty. "You'll like Elaine. She's an excellent masseuse."

Bruce relented, once more clasping Jasmina's hand and directing their steps toward the curb to hail a taxi. "Okay," he conceded. "When we get back to Gotham."

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