Edward Nygma, dressed in a black three-piece suit with his favorite green tie, came timidly into the house of Wayne for the first time. The entire entrance hall was sparkling clean and smelt of pine and lemon, not to mention the various perfumes and colones of ladies and gentleman attending the great party.

The entire thing was almost remenicent of a party he'd read about in school; The Great Gatsby, in which no one knew anything about the host of several parties that just seemed to become grander and grander the more you looked. The only differance was Mr. Bruce Wayne seemed to be a very personalbe man, although Edward had never come face to face and personally talked before.

He came to find himself milling around the table bearing the apetizers and champaigne, staring down into his own amber reflection in the glass. The people seemed to move about him like he was non-existant; a real Mr. Celephane. Fortunately he didn't care to much to interact, as his nerves were standing on end like hairs on the back of the neck. He did however take great stock of what people were doing, how they were poised and dressed, and even little snatches of conversation being had.

Bruce Wayne burst through the giant double doors in a grand entrance, using a clumsly smirk to hide the fact that he had just come from putting a few more drug dealers in the back Gordon's police car.

He gracefully made his way through the sea of people and into the middle of the ballroom. "Good evening." He said as clear as glass. His voice carried through the room as if riding on the wind currents. His eyes flickered to meet every one of his guest's gaze.
"I hope you're having a wonderful time. I'm sorry for being late, you know how gas pumps are nowadays. Never let someone else fill your car up."

The slight wave of soft laughter bounced off the clean white walls and danced on the sparkling floor.

Bruce's black hair shimmered like moonlight against the lights above. His blue eyes, done surveying the scene, cast a crystalized gaze before him. He was dressed finely in a black suit with the traditional black tie against white undershirt. He gave off a proud air. He seemed exactly what you would expect from Gotham's Prince, but yet, at the same time, made you take another look into those blue irises.
Of course it could just be the trick of light that made you think they held a darker glow.
"My name's Bruce Wayne, but if you didn't know that already," he allowed a fake chuckle to escape his lips, "then you must be at the wrong party."

Edward stopped his survelance of all other people when the doors burst open. He saw Mr. Wayne there, standing like an earthy monarch. A sort of comferting presance flooded the room, as though your favorit cousin had shown up to a family reunion. Strangely enough though, it was the slight glints of darker thoughts clouding the otherwise lovely blue of his eyes that intregued Edward the most.

He was usually a quiet and seemingly nervous sort, and did not approach him directly. Especially as he'd only come to work in the firm approximately three weeks ago. Instead, he made a non-chalaunt cross to the other side of the room, casually passing by him, turning only to smile and glance and offer his hand in a formal greeting between two poeple who might've met at a coffee shop or on the street. Although Edward greatly respected him and even, envied him in some darker reaches of the mind, he didn't dote or fawn as the other marionettes in the large and gleaming white ballroom seemed to.

Bruce gave a polite nod when a man, a new employee, dressed in a fine suit passed by him and shook his hand. After he had continued his walk through the crowd, Bruce gave a soft laugh at the delicate oddity of the man's green tie. It stuck out in a comanding way against the blur of normalcy that surrounded Bruce everyday.

Intrigued, Bruce politely pressed the palm of his hand on the other gentlemen's shoulder, who was busying himself with retelling stories of an old time in Gotham, and gave a soft smile to the rest of them listening in. Bruce knew that none of them, deep down, really cared. They just wanted to be in the same radius as the 'infamous' Bruce Wayne, is all.

Bruce gently ghosted his way past the mass amount of people, he had forgotten that Alfred invited so many, and his eye caught sight of his person-of-interest.

A soft hand clapsing on a firm shoulder...
A curling of fingertips...
And suddenly Bruce was caught with the intense green shooting from the man's eyes, almost as intoxicating as his green tie.

Bruce regained his composure. "Bruce Wayne." He offered with a smile.

Edward was a bit caught, not by surprise but by a bit of steadfast thrill. He turned to see the blue eyes so close at hand that they could most likely see through the back of his skull. He turned on an elegant heel and extened his hand once more. "Oh, Edward Nygma; Technical support... sir." He added hastely, used to being his own 'sir' but feeling the need to give respect where respect was due.

Bruce gave a genuine smile, feeling the threat of laughter spill forth from his lungs. "Please," he shook his head, "dont call me 'sir'. Just Bruce. We're at a party, mind you. No need to be so professional." He kept a steady gaze, not wanting to tear away from the hypontic electric green he was shot with. Bruce greatly appreciated the kind gesture of Edward being so polite out of manners and not just of social standing.

And, just like that, Bruce was stuck.

For a moment, his mind froze uncharacteristically and thought of something to say. He could talk about work, but didn't he just say they were at a party? He could talk about himself, playing into the character of the playboy persona he put on after taking off the cape... But something told Bruce not to go down that road, at least not with Edward.

There was, of course, always option C.
Bruce could blame it on alcohol.

He mentally rolled his eyes and decided to go with 'none of the above'. "So Edward, have you been in Gotham long?"

It was predictable, idle chit-chat, and expected.

Just how Bruce Wayne should be.

INternally, Edward sighed; hoping for something obsene and random to come from this fasionable bon vi vont. Although, knowing there was more behind the eyes, he couldn't help but feel a sort of dissappointment in the question.

"Well Mr. Wayne," using his 'sir' name, mostly to tease him for being so informal. "I've not lived here my entire life, but the majority. It's an... interesting city to say the least."

"Ah..." Bruce lowered his eyes. Another standstill. He didn't know why conversersing with this person proved to be so difficult. Usually Bruce was so social and could start conversations about anything.

But now...

Bruce's blue eyes flickered back up to the tie Edward was wearing. He didn't dare blink, not wanting to waste such a uniquely odd sight.

Edward smiled, almost calculatively. "The tie sir?" He asked, almost hoping to catch Bruce off guard. It would be interesting to see if such a man could be surprised or, even slightly embarrassed. Such a person could prove to be very psychologically amusing.

Bruce managed a smile and lowered his head again, laughing softly to himself. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so obvious." He locked eyes with Edward. "I hope you don't find me rude."

Bruce didn't know why, but her really didn't want this person to think of him as just a scandalous playboy with too much money and too many women on his hands. In all honesty, he felt a strange connection with Edward, something invisble, almost non-existant.
It almost felt as if Bruce pushed his false identity too far then he would lose him.
And he certainly didn't want to do that.

Edward managed a meak laugh, fiddling with his tie. "Not at all sir, it's just entertaining to watch you, someone with... well milions, be so transfixed by a green piece of fabric." He smiled slyly. "Although I can see the attraction, otherwise I wouldn't be wearing it."

The same sort of kindred seemed to spark for Edward, only in a somewhat subdued mannor. He desperately wanted to keep his professional, casual, and casual proffessional (that being the work done for Mr. Wayne) seperate as best he could. He felt however, as he looked at this proud man with a lowered head, that that would be difficult to say the least.

He'd never had many friends, almost none he could consider beyond aquaintances; so the thought of actually becoming friends with a man he just met seemed as strange as... as a green tie against a black suit and shirt.

Bruce managed a grin when he was approached by a woman in a shimmering black dress. She called out his name softly and Bruce reluctantly looked away, almost regretting breaking the contact from Edward. She whispered a few words in his ear, carfeully pressing herself against him, and the Wayne heir almost wanted to roll his eyes.

But, of course, that would be out-of-character.

He turned back to Edward, a dull shell over his vibrant blue eyes, and calmly said, "I'll see you at work tomorrow, Edward." And walked away casually as the woman snaked her arm around his.

Edward stared after him for a moment, as though he'd been knocked unconcious and still remained on his feet. The woman brought only a little smile of amusement from him as he closed his eyes and shook his head, wondering if Bruce did what he did only to distract others; or even himself for that matter, from something much bigger and more overshadowing.

Then again, thought Edward, He could just be a playboy. Either way, he still held a connection someplace. Like neither of them were showing all their cards.