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"I mean god... he's such a jerk."
You had just finished telling Selina about what had happened down in the 44 Below as you sat in the cab. You didn't even hear what place Selina told the man to drive to, you were so upset and instantly started ranting.
"An absolute asshole," she said as she rolled her eyes. She started telling you about what had happened on her end of the line, before she gave a sudden gasp. "I just remembered!"
"Jesus, cat, way to scare the shit outta me. What's wrong?"
She gave a sly look and smirked. "While you were busy with bat freak getting info from that D.A. guy, I was getting info from some loud-mouth customers."
You raised a brow, silently asking her to continue.
"Well, let's just say we'll be busy tomorrow night... hope you didn't have any plans," she said amusingly, before turning her gaze out the window.
You looked at her in silence, expecting her to continue, but she still looked on. You scoffed, "Um, hello? Are ya gonna clue me in on what's going down?"
She looked at you seriously, before a smirk crept onto her face and her facade broke. Laughing, she filled you in. "Okay, okay. According to some guy working in some narcotic lab, there's supposed to be a drop going onβa score, if you will. I wrote down the place he was talking about. Anyways, we sneak there and steal whatever money they're trading right from their noses. Come on," she winked, "can't be too hard."
She gave you an eager look as you thought it over. On one hand, you guys could really use that moneyβliving isn't cheap. And it isn't like this would be the hardest thing you've done, you've done way worse...probably. But on the other hand...the consequences of getting caught are much higher. These guys probably wouldn't slap cuffs on you and send you to jail, they'd more likely shoot first and ask questions later, unlike that cop paroling the Mayor's office. But the money...
"Yeah, okay," you gave in. "Just give me the details-"
Your phone interrupted with a bzzzz.
Looking at your phone, you and Selina could see that it was your boss, Oswald Cobblepot.
Bzzzz.
You stared at the screen, panic filling you. Did he find something out? Are you in trouble? Maybe-
Bzzzz.
"I think you should answer that," Selina whispered. You hastily accepted the call and put the phone to your ear.
"Heya doll, how's it going?"
"Oh, it's going alright. It was a busy night tonight, you know how it gets," you laughed nervously.
"So me 'n Mr. Falcone have been talking; he says he's missed seein' ya 'round his place. He's invited you to accompany him to the Mayor's funeral tomorrow morning. Ain't that nice of him?"
You held your breath for a second. Carmine Falcone invited you to go with him? You must have stayed silent for a beat too long, because Oz spoke up.
"Hon?"
"Oh, um, yes! Yes, thank you for the invite. I'm just not sure that-"
"-I think you should go. Wouldn't want to upset Mr. Falcone, would you?"
"...no. Tell him that I'll be ready in the morning."
"Great, great. I'm sure he'll be pleased. We'll pick you up, darlin', don't worry about it. Have a good night." He hung up, leaving your eyes to linger on the dark phone screen. Selina's eyes burned into you as she nearly died of curiosity.
"So," she finally gave in. "What was that?"
"Oz was asking if I would accompany Falcone to the funeral tomorrow."
"...you're joking."
"I'm not! I tried backing out, but... you know..."
"Nah, I get it." Selina had a strange look on her face. "Just be back for the score, got it?"
"Of course," you smiled.
"And hey," Selina got serious. "Just be safe, yeah? You know Carmine Falcone..."
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"You know Carmine Falcone?"
"I work at the mob spot, of course I know him."
"You didn't tell me you had a relationship with him."
"I don't have a relationship with him. What's your problem?"
"Well, that's not what it looked like."
"You really gonna be an asshole about this?"
"Are you going to tell me the truth? You seeing another one of these mobsters? Some loser nobodyβ"
"Pretty," Alfred interrupted Bruce, causing him to hurriedly pause the recording of the night prior. He had been rewinding that last bit of conversation for quite some time now. Alfred continued, "New friend of yours? Although by the way you're talking, it seems a little more serious."
Bruce gave him a sharp look before sighing and looking back at the screen. "I'm not so sure."
"Looks like you upset her." The recording was paused and zoomed onto your face. Even with your angry expression and tears that threatened to swell, you still looked beautiful. Bruce casted him an annoyed look. "Shall I take this as a good sign?"
"What?"
"Your attire." Alfred gestured to Bruce, who was dressed rather handsomely. He was wearing a nice black suit and tie. "Is Bruce Wayne making an actual appearance?"
"There's a public memorial for Mayor Mitchell. Serial killers like to follow reactions to their crime," Bruce said as if it was the most obvious thing. "Riddler might not be able to resist."
"Oh, that reminds me," Alfred jumped as he took a piece of paper out of his pocket. "I took the liberty of doing a little work on this latest cipherβthe one from the rat maze." Bruce turned fully to face him, his back now facing the digital you. He could still feel your eyes burning into him. "I'm afraid his Spanish is less than perfect, but I'm fairly certain it translates to 'You are El Rata Alada.'"
"Rata Alada..." Bruce pondered for a moment before continuing, "'Rat with wings?'"
"It's slang for pigeon," Alfred informed. "Does that mean anything to you?"
"Yeah, a stool pigeon-"
"-Where are your cufflinks?" Alfred interrupted.
"I couldn't find them."
"Well, you can't go out like that," the older man declared as he started to undo his own links.
"Alfred, I don't want your cufflinks."
The man handed Bruce the small piece of jewelry. "You have to keep up appearances. You're still a Wayne."
Bruce scoffed, "And what about you? You a Wayne?" Your cyber eyes felt hotter against his back.
"Your father gave them to me..." the man said solemnly. Bruce looked downwards, a little ashamed, but glanced back up to see Alfred giving him a small smile. "And besides, I'm just loaning them to you. I want them back!"
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Getting ready in the dingy, broken, and mess of an apartment you called home sucked. There was no time to clean after the break-in and unfortunately, it was hard to look at the place without seeing Anika. You kept your eyes on the floor for the most part.
You picked what you thought was most appropriate for a funeral; it was challenging considering that most of your clothes were for your work. Simple was the keyβsimple black dress, simple makeup, simple boots. The fall weather was chilly, so you borrowed Selina's black trench coat to layer over your outfit. A car horn made you jump away from the mirror.
The driver politely opened the door so you could make your way into the vehicle. Your boss was sitting in the passenger seat, smoking a cigarette, while Falcone was sitting beside you.
"Morning darling, you look absolutely gorgeous," he kissed your hand, "let's get this shit show over with."
You smiled, albeit uncomfortable, and stayed silent the whole trip. The men were discussing how much they did not want to go to this event but hey, gotta do what you gotta do, I guess. It didn't take long to reach the church and with a look from Falcone, Oz got out of the car to deal with the crowd.
"Hold it," he ordered, voice muffled through the car. "You good, fellas?" The crowd took the hit and backed away. He opened the door with a "We're good Mr. Falcone" and Falcone stepped out, but not before giving you a wink. He cautiously looked around before offering his hand to you. You took it.
Your black knee-high boots clacked against the wet pavement as you settled yourself into the crook of the man's arm, making your way into the building. You were about to enter until-
"Heyβhey! Give us a wide berth here, will ya, Slick?" You turned around to see Oz yelling at a man, but he was already looking at you with a strange intensity in his eyes. Wait a minute... was that?
"Watchit, fellas. You got the Prince of the City there. Some event, huh? Brought out the one guy in the city more reclusive than me."
"Thought you'd never leave the Shoreline," Bruce Wayne fired immediately. "Aren't you afraid someone'll take a shot at you?"
"Why? 'Cause your father ain't around? Guys," Falcone looked back at you and Oz, "you know Bruce Wayne?"
"Wow, is that right?" Oz was not impressed in the slightest, unlike you. Bruce Wayne never makes a public appearance; it's a rarity. Honestly, if it weren't for all of Gotham never shutting up about his parents, you would have thought him a myth. You had to admit though, he was a little handsome.
"His father saved my life. I got shot in the chest, right here," Falcone pointed to the place on yourself, ghosting over your right lower rib. Bruce's glare darkened. "I couldn't go to no hospital, so we showed up on his doorstep. Operated right on the dining room table. Kid here, he saw the whole thing from up on the stairs lookin' down." Falcone lowered his voice and leaned towards Bruce. "I remember your face. You don't think that meant something when he did that?
"It meant he took the Hippocratic Oath."
Falcone looked taken aback before letting a small chuckle escape. "'Hippocratic Oath.' That's good."
"Excuse me," Bruce went to pass by as Falcone laughed.
"Hey." One of Falcone's bodyguards took him by the shoulder. "I was thinking, ya know, since I have my lovely assistant here," he clapped you on both of your shoulders and gave them a squeeze. "Baby, you know I hate to share, but be a doll and keep Mr. Recluse some company, will ya? Help him loosen out of his shell a bit, I think he needs it," Falcone laughed again. You expected Bruce Wayne to reject his offer, but he surprisingly obliged. Politely smiling and offering his elbow to you after sending Falcone one more glare, you took it with a shy smile and followed after him. The cameras of the paparazzi exploded with light.
Bruce kept you nice and close to him as you both made your way inside. There were mourners all around; some cried, some looked bored, and some had a look of disdain.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer started. "Thank you all for coming to today's memorial for our beloved mayor, Don Mitchell Jr. Our program will begin shortly. As a reminder..."
"I'm sorry," Bruce spoke softly after a while of silence. "I can't figure out how such a gorgeous woman is hanging around a guy like Falcone. I've seemed to have forgotten my manners. My name's Bruce Wayne, what's yours?" He smiled slightly at you as he introduced himself. He looked slightly eager. You already knew who he was, of course because who didn't, but it was nice to see him introduce himself. It was... kinda cool.
You bashfully smiled back. "Thank you, Mr. Wayneβ"
"Bruce."
"βBruce." Your smile grew as you played along. "My name isβ"
"What good is a safety net if it doesn't catch nobody?" A man interrupted. "Didn't help my daughter when she needed it, I can tell you that. Guy was just another rich scum sucker. He got what he deserved." The man looked Bruce in the eyes. "Know what I mean? Hey... don't I know you?"
"Bruce Wayne," another voice interrupted. Bruce looked a little annoyed. He pursed his lips and frowned before turning to Bella ReΓ‘l. "Why haven't you called me back?" She turned her gaze to you briefly and looked surprised. "I'm sorry, I wasn't aware you had company. I'm Bella ReΓ‘l, I'm running for mayor. I wouldn't be bothering you here, but your people keep telling me you're 'unavailable.' Will you walk with me?" Bruce followed the woman, tucking you into his side even more. Bella paused as she looked at you but continued as she positioned herself onto the other side of Bruce. He gave you an apologetic look, as if he was trying to say, 'sorry for dragging you into this.'
"You know, you really could be doing more for this city. Your family has a history of philanthropy, but as far as I can tell, you're not really doing anything." You rolled your eyes, but she couldn't see. "If I'm elected, I want to change that." The three of you found yourselves at the front of the session where the ex-mayor's son could be seen. "I'm gonna go pay my respects. Will you wait for me? I want to continue this," she said adamantly before approaching the casket.
The only thing not deeply depressing in the place was the music, which was lovely. You were going to make a comment to the man you were standing besides but he was staring at the little boy. You could only assume what he was thinking, and you had a pretty good guess, so you squeezed his arm to try and bring him back. His eyes snapped to yours before squeezing you back with a small smile.
"'Scuse me, Chief?" Being nosy, both you and Bruce shared a look before eavesdropping. "Gil Colson is missing." Your grip on Bruce's arm tightened.
"What?" The Chief asked. His badge name read 'Gordon.'
"He hasn't been heard from since last nightβ"
"βChrist, not again,"
"βHey, Mr. Wayne," a new, friendly cop chimed in with a smile and wave after noticing Bruce staring.
Bruce sighed before turning back to you. "Hopefully no more interruptions," he whispered to you. "Let's start over. My name's Bruce, what'sβ"
The world hated you because just as he uttered those words, screaming and the sound of revving engines echoed in the church. People, you included, fearfully looked around. Following Bruce's gaze upwards, a sinister presence of a lone person looked down at you. You reacted quicker than Bruceβyou could see a car driving up the church steps before he could, so you made a beeline to the little boy looking curiously. The boy, however, refused to move. He was transfixed at the vehicle heading towards him. Luckily, Bruce dove for you both and managed to roll and take the brunt of the impact as you all fell away from the car. The boy's mother quickly gathered her son and hurriedly left as you stared at where the car crashed beside you. You looked down at the man who saved you, but his gaze was still at the place the lone figure wasβalthough he was gone now. Bruce's grip tightened on you as you laid atop of him. Helping you to your feet, he saw the scared look on your face.
Cops rushed in with their weapons drawn and pointed at the vehicle.
"Get out of the car! Get out of the car and show your hands," Gordon ordered.
The car door slowly opened as the driver raised their hands above their head. The person stumbled out and, oh my god, was that...?
"Christ, it's Colson."
It was the D.A.! He was still wearing the same outfit from when you last saw him, but there was a bomb around his neck and an envelope taped to him. One of the other officers yelled about the bomb, which caused the funeral attendees to panic. Bruce tucked your face into his chest and backed away as the phone taped to Colson's hand went off. He was oddly protective, but you appreciated it for the moment.
"Let's clear this place out now!"
Police began hurriedly ushering people out of the building for their safety, but Bruce stood still. The envelope was addressed to 'The Batman' in handwriting that could only belong to a childs. Dragging Bruce to the exit after not wanting to spend more time next to a bomb, you looked for Falcone and Oz. Bruce also kept an eye out, but after about 5 minutes of looking from out the front steps, you gave up. They must have left after the first sign of trouble.
"Those assholes," you cursed under your breath. "Can't believe they left me here. I didn't even want to be here in the first place."
"Well, I couldn't have met you if they didn't make you come," Bruce spoke up after a while.
You softly laughed, "Yeah, I guess you're right, although I would hardly call it a meeting. Plus, it could've been done with less bombs." You looked helplessly at the road; your boss was your only ride and you didn't want to pay for a taxi.
"Yeah, less bombs would be nice during a proper meeting, but ideally it would be best over dinner, wouldn't you agree?" You looked at him with surprise as a taxi stopped next to you. Bruce, a little nervously, continued. "Listen, I'm sorry about all the interruptions from earlier. As you can probably tell, I don't get out much." He laughed bitterly and opened the door for you. "I would like to get to know you better under better circumstances, truly." He took a notepad and pen from his coat pocket and scribbled. "Here," he passed it to you. "I hope to hear from you." You looked at the numbers he wrote down as he gave a wad of cash to the driver. Looking back up at Bruce, he gave a small, genuine smile before shutting the cab door and hurriedly retreating.
You were mentally screaming but paused for a moment to reflect: You could tell that he was trying to charm you as he was laying it on rather thick, but you found it endearing. I mean, it's not every day that the Prince of Gotham lets you hang on his arm and accompany him. Besides, it really did seem like he wanted to get to know you. And most importantly...
He gave you his f-ing phone number!
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