I apologize for taking down Everlasting Raine. I had some things to revise so I hope that this one suits your taste. Enjoy.

The rain came down thickly, showering everyone in a cloud of haze and steam. There was no green fog that covered this part of the city. Only abandoned dreams and hopes that would never return. My mother's hand was a vice on my shoulder, loving, as her tears rang loudly down her face. Mine was indifferent, the smell of my fresh roses being dampened by the current weather. My eyes glazed the dark cherry wood coffins with an indescribable longing. I should be right next to them—right in that same box and placed underground forgotten and alone.

"They have to lower them now, sweetheart."

I nodded once with my stomach sticking in my throat.

My father gave the ok and all of Gotham's Elite watched my husband and son go down into the muddy ground. My eyes stung but I couldn't even tell if I was crying. Wayne Enterprises had to burry another one of its own today. The first time since Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Wayne. All of my husband's colleagues were there watching one of the most respected businessmen go down into the ground. I wanted to puke.

They, corrupted bureaucrats who believed they were doing something for this city, were here pretending to care about my family.

If only someone would come…come and save the city. Then maybe…just maybe…I could forgive.

The alarm clock rang incessantly as my numb arm rose to throw it against the wall. It would be my fifth clock that month. My head popped up from my white sheets and like old habit, I ran my fingers in search of the body that kept my heart beating. I encountered cold sheets and a plump pillow. Nothing. I pressed a finger to my eye, swiping away the evidence of my humanity.

I rolled over and landed on my floor wincing in pain. I slept in that bed every night and I still fell out of it. Cursing, I stood up to my full height of six feet one inches. I pulled up my limbs into a routine stretch, taking one glance at the picture on my nightstand, and inhaled. I stomped, as usual, out to my kitchen in only underwear and a tank top and clutched onto the freshly brewed coffee of Irish roast and downed three cups. I took out the vodka, and downed a shot of that too. Ok, ready to get dressed.

I stomped off towards my bathroom, my eyes flicking in the mirror at my reflection. Crimped brown hair crowned my face so that my skin glowed with its freckles. My trimmed body was nothing short of magnificent and anything I wore, even clothes with holes, were perfect. My cat shaped green eyes, ones that held you into an uncomfortable yet intriguing position made me shift from one slender leg to the other.

Perfect. As was to be expected. Not even sleep could make me look like a hobo. I smiled, my glinting teeth making me even wince. In happier times I was thought to be a vampire, but as everyone knows, vampires don't exist.

"Good morning, gorgeous!" Claudius burst into my bathroom, ignoring my naked body, bearing my outfit for the day. "I assembled the team in the lobby and we shall be getting ready for the Fall Fashion Show."

"Did Kelly call in sick again?" And so my day began and the bitch was in full front. "I swear if she calls in one more time her ass is mine. Get Andre and I want six of those Jimmy Choo's ready by this afternoon. I want the models in my office by ten and no, for the thousandth time, no I do not want Paul Mitchell doing my girls' hair. Get someone else, younger. I don't care who, Claudius, just do it! And get Christian Siriano on the phone he's supposed to finish the evening gowns by Tuesday night and I will have them no later than then."

He nodded, his eyes haphazardly glancing towards me with a peculiar smile. "Guess who is back in Gotham?"

"The Dali Lama?"

"No, better. Bruce Wayne."

I stopped in mid-entrance to my bathtub. I pushed my hair behind an ear hoping that Claude wouldn't see my mouth hanging open like a lunatic. "Oh?" Was all I was able to mumble in his direction before slipping into the boiling hot water.

My head disappeared beneath the water of my bath and for the briefest moment, I thought of my little boy and how his dark hair glistened in the sun at the pool when I first took him. But like everyone I loved in my life, he disappeared beneath the surface.

My heels clacked down the marble hallway of my office building, random portfolio's being handed to me and people offering kiss-ass smiles. I ignored them completely, flipping through pages and pages of examples and ideas. "Yes, I think that the long baby doll tees will be a hit but make them plain colors. I'll fax them down. And yes to the legwarmers. Everything else is utter crap. Where's my Mocha? Throw this in the trash and turn on the news."

"Yes, Miss. Drake."

No matter how many times I insisted on being call Miss. Drake, my heart leapt out in a pitiful cry of sadness. It had been Mrs. Washington for so long that my birth name didn't even fell like mine. I felt alone, scared…abandoned. Why Ivan…why couldn't you just stay with me…?

Claude saddled up beside me and laughed his flamboyant heart out. "Funny that you liked the legwarmers instead of the thigh highs."

"They are the perfect piece to the puzzle of wardrobe malfunction. I don't see what you find it funny as it is the classic piece that never dies."

"Like your corsets."

"Yes, thanks for reminding me. Andre! Get me a full list of designers who make turn of the century corsets. I've just decided they're making a comeback."

Claudius looked into the mirror once inside my spacious office and fixed up his hair. He was thinking of something—making me dread what it was. "Listen, sweetie, come out to drink with me. I have lots of straight friends who are dying to meet you."

"I don't date. And if you ever call me sweetie again, I'll chop off your trouser snake and throw it out this window." I arranged all of my papers and unfolded my agenda, assembling dates and assorting all types of appointments that were coming up.

"I know you don't date," Claude grumbled taking no notice to the threat of his prized possession being cut off, "but it would do you good. It's been four months."

"I know that, Claude. Everyone is still sending me apologetic cards at each hour of the day wishing me well. No, it wouldn't do me any good. It would only cause me to forget my work."

"How about Bruce Wayne? That would be some wild sex. The Bitch and the Prince of Gotham..."

My gaze was one of hell and automatically Claude backed off. "Because I'm not ready for that. There will be no sex."

Claude snorted at that. "Just give me a week and you will be linked onto Mr. Wayne's arm."

"No need. I have to keep our relationship strictly on business terms."

"He knows you exist?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, he knows I exist. Who doesn't? Besides, I was asked by Alfred, one of Bruce's most trusted assistants, to design his entire wardrobe."

Claude's mouth dropped. "You pick out Bruce Wayne's clothes?"

"I'm not going to deny myself the opportunity to dress our city's Prince. It's what I do."

"Then dress me."

"How about you get to work and then I'll forget you asked?"

Like that, as if I had snapped my fingers, the entire building shook with the work of all my employees. The day was long, tedious, ostentatious and above all, pleasurable. I loved my job because it was as cold as life. Anything that had to do with love, affection, warmth, or compassion was discarded in my mind. I was ice. I was an everlasting night.

My ears pricked up at the sound of a TV where Bruce Wayne's voice came bubbling into my mind.

I was suddenly disturbed by the voice, my mind reeling at its manly sound. It reminded me of someone I loved….someone now dead. I flitted out towards the main lobby, hit the power button, and slammed the remote into the wall just above the trashcan where it broke into small black pieces. And yet I had only flicked my hand…

It had been a few weeks since Bruce Wayne's new appearance, but he was already back in the spotlight. And so was another scary figure. He was on all of the pages of the newspaper, police officers were running around in circles pulling out their hair, and villains—the whole city rather—was beginning to worry about business. I ignored it knowing full well that I would never need this batman or his help. I had my own self protection program. It was called fists.

I had received a personal invitation by Bruce Wayne himself yesterday morning inviting me to dinner. I was going to deny it when I caught a glance of myself in the mirror. Why let this go to waste? I needed to get myself outside and—and I didn't know what but I needed to do something other than just work. When I'm in my sixties I can just pay attention to my career, but I was still young. 28, in fact. That was more than enough reason to go out.

The air was crisp like a nice frisk of the bare skin by one's lover as I walked to my penthouse just early enough to get ready. The steam from the sewer's rolled up in billows and the street lamps were unbearably askew in their broken states. The streets were desolate. Not one trance of human life against the graveyard of outdated cars and trash.

These were my favorite nights because I was tempting fate. I was tempting the Grim Reaper. Let all the evil in the world come, I could take it all.

Men whistled from an alley as I pounded my way through the shortcut I had mapped out to get to my apartment in the richest part of Gotham. I ignored them like I usually did in life. There was nothing that could hurt me.

I tripped suddenly, my heel snapping off at a large crack. Shit. These were one of my more expensive high heels. I reach down, feeling eyes on my back, and took off my shoe. I was probably going to get some odd fungus or tons of pimples on my face from touching this disgusting ground but how could I walk decently with a broken shoe? Lucky for me, I brought spares.

I felt someone grab my neck, a slow whistle sounding out in the night. It was a man, obviously, but I couldn't see his features all too well. There were other men too with the same grungy features, their clothes all torn up, and their hoods above their heads. Just what I needed to get rid of some four month pent up angst. Why no one had touched me until now, I had no idea.

"What's a hot thing like you walking these streets? Shouldn't you be on your way to a party in the upper side or something?"

I swallowed, licking my lips to moisten them. "In fact, I am and you're disrupting my schedule."

He clicked his tongue as I scanned the rest of the group—six men. Perfect. "Too bad because you're on our agenda."

"Really? On what list?"

"Our 'To do' list."

The men chuckled darkly with sly sniggers.

I laughed myself, surprising them. "Yes, really funny because, you know what? I just got a ten minute opening and guest what list you're on?"

The man's eyebrows furrowed.

"My 'Ass-kicking' list."

They all erupted in laughter but that was just enough time. I took the man's arm and threw it behind his back, locking him in a hold. The other's drew out their guns, but that wouldn't matter. They would only hit their friend. I used him as a shield as I slide my foot underneath one man, making him flip in the air as I grabbed his gun. Propping it underneath the man's armpit, I used my shield perfectly, firing off at each member until their lungs were smoking with bullets. The man I now held was dead as well, but he smelled. I threw him on the floor, wiping my hands. "Yuck." I whispered. I was completely dirty now and everything was going to have to be dry-cleaned.

I bent down to retrieve my unbeaten purse when a flap of something in the sky landed next to me. I didn't look up to see who it was. I could take on a full army if need be. I found my extra pair of shoes when a dark and grumbling voice came over me.

"That was impressive. Usually women such as yourself don't know how to kill six guys under less than three minutes."

I couldn't feel my limbs. Was I seeing right? My right hand clenched further into a fist, my knuckles turning white. "Batman, right?" I was finally able to whisper through dry lips.

He nodded. "You should be careful out here. Where did you learn all those stunts?"

I laughed suddenly free of my paralyzed state. I knelt down to strap on my shoes, my pencil skirt being uncooperative. He bent down as well, looping the strap gently. He smelled wonderful…like a fresh fall that was bringing the season's to change. But that wasn't going to make me tell him my secrets, even if he was a potential hero of Gotham.

"Thanks." I whispered.

"Anytime, Miss. Drake."

I looked up at him from under my lashes, surprised that he would even know my name. I could only see his mouth and part of his jaw but the rest of him wasn't a man. He was a creature on a mission. I shouldn't keep him from his duties because—maybe he was going to cure this city.

I glanced down for only three seconds and when I shifted my eyes back up—he was gone.