There's A Lovely Bride In You're Right Eye, Now What About the Left There's A Lovely Bride In You're Right Eye, Now What About the Left?

What is love? More than just another player in the grandest circus of human emotions, which is the one that involves interaction with one another. What does it mean to be bride? How does one go about it? "Am I over thinking this?" Trish muttered, casting aside her white gloves, the wedding was tomorrow, what was she doing? She abruptly stood up, and much to her despair, found nothing to occupy her time. "I have to do something before I drive myself insane," She fumed, pacing the tiny apartment, "I won't miss this," She said aloud, just to do something, "Won't miss this tiny place, not when I live in a mansion!" She looked around, cluttered, cozy, whom was she kidding? This was her paradise! This was her mansion. What was with this anyway? Dave asking her to marry him, "I'm not ready to meet the rest of his relatives, let alone marry the guy and be a part of his family." She said, inwardly admitting she was talking to herself again. She supposed she was just too old fashion, wanting to spend so much time on everything, and what was wrong with that?

C'mon, you love the guy, her conscience chimed in as she began flipping through her clothing, she decided she'd go to work, it would spare her sitting here talking to no one, and she'd free up another day off, what could go wrong?

So she kicked herself into gear and drove off to Wayne Enterprises, to spend another day uselessly typing away until she could get enough money to quit and get a job that suited more. She was a get-up-and-do, get out and change the world sort of gal, she didn't like this, it felt like solitary confinement.

Whether she liked it or not, she spent another day sitting in "solitary confinement" typing endlessly away, exactly to prevent herself from get-up-and-doing anything rash, like say…running out on her wedding.

That's when the door opened, and in walked her father.

"Hello, dear daughter," He smiled warmly, relishing every moment he saw her there doing what he thought she should. "All ready for the big wedding?" She shrugged, not really enjoying his company; it was him, who had gotten her this job, he being friends with Mr. Wayne Sr. and all, he called in a few favours from Bruce.

"I'm sure you'll be a lovely sight in your bright white dress, you're such a pretty girl." Her father went on, and she just sat there, nodding slowly, wishing he'd maybe spare her just this once. Yeah right, she thought, pursing her lips, this is exactly what he wants for his little girl, marry rich, work at a physically undemanding, indoor job and become a lovely pet.

"I hope you're very happy together," He finished, "Now look at me," She turned reluctantly, "Ah, there we are. There's a lovely bride right there, in your right eye." Trish frowned. "I'll see you tomorrow Dad, have a nice day." It wasn't cold for a send off, but it showed some true feelings on her behalf.

The party was fresh, it was swanky, it was an awful excuse for rich people to gossip and get drunk, so they could donate their money to something they didn't care about. Dale took Trish anyway, even knowing how she felt about these things. She stood, she tried to look nice in photos, she sipped her wine delicately when she could barely resist gulping it down. The excess of it all made her feel terribly overindulgent and Bruce Wayne's speech sickened her, she could read people, she was a humanitarian, an interact –with-the-people type person. And it was a cry for help, a big fat cry for help. Despite earlier vows she'd sworn to herself, she drank the rest of her wine without taking the glass from her lips.

"Trish, this is Harvey Dent," She shook hands with the new attorney, and that turned the evening for the better. There was a definite sense of mutual righteousness that immediately had them talking about big things. Big things, they're what people who had big ideas talked about, they did big things, and big ideas were equal to big accomplishments.

"You're ideas on this new villain, amazing!" Harvey told her, taking another sip of wine, "Oh it's nothing compared to the clean up your mere presence has preformed on this city, I mean hallelujah," Trish made a gesture of praise, and both laughed. "I am truly humble in your presence, I mean I only hope to do things you have done in the future."

"You know," Harvey paused, wine glass still in hand. "You're an inspiring humanitarian, devoted truly to what you think, and I mean," His face expressed awe, " You have such a way with your words, you could address the people on this issue, you know, make them believe I can clean up this city." A look of sheer excitement covered her face, "You mean me, Of course, I…I'll see you tomorrow morning?" Harvey Dent laughed, "You're so eager, you're getting married tomorrow!" Trish bit her lip, "oh yeah,"

"Listen," Harvey handed her a card, "Call me when you get back from your honey moon, assuming it's not weeks long." Trish shook her head, "We're just spending the weekend away."

"Alright, so call me then, I've got to go," He got up and walked away, heading for Bruce and his girlfriend, a pretty woman, Trish sensed another fellow believer in people.

"The wedding's going to be televised, total media coverage!" She could hear Dave gloating to his rich, prep school friends in the background. Yep, she thought silently, time for more wine.

"- Tonight's Entertainment!" And a few gunshots were really all she heard with her back to the crowd, she turned, and there was the very problem she'd been discussing with Harvey earlier, "Speed of the devil!" She muttered to herself, awestruck, no gasping or screaming, no fainting, she was a smart girl, she'd didn't have anything this whack job wanted. She listened to the story he told as he threatened Rachel, she decided it was as phoney as the bowl of plastic fruit on her counter and she kept drinking her wine, Batman came, and she would have liked to say the rest was history, but something in her mind kept watching the very man she had earlier accepted to stand against. She wondered, endlessly, hopelessly, what makes him any different then all us stupid rich kids anyway. We do what we want, check; we step on those beneath us, check; we threaten people at dumb parties…only with business deals. And I bet, she thought, noticing the liquor may just have been getting to her, he doesn't have to get married tomorrow. She sadly shook her head, this is wrong, and attacking fundraisers is wrong, killing innocent civilians is wrong. What's your problem Trish? Are you finally, losing it after all this time surrounded by this? "Come on!" Dave took her in his arms and proceeded to drag her out the door, away from her droll musings, "I heard you scream!" He told her, loading her into his car with all the speed possible. "I don't scream," Trish said flatly. "Smart girls don't draw attention to themselves when clowns attack."

Hey, her conscience chimed in again, The killer Clown doesn't have to marry some retard!.