A/N: Forgive the mess, I haven't written anything in... god knows how long. I'm rusty, but hopefully this will be interesting enough regardless!
Anyway, this story is one of many that I'd like to write. It's post TDK and will include other characters from the comics and B:TAS, some of which will have their background fleshed out since they have never really had much of one to begin with.

Disclaimer: Batman, The Joker, and anything regarding that universe belong to their respective creators. No profit is made from this piece of writing, nor does anyone else have my permission to do so.

Drunk.
Such a state was impossible to achieve with this slop. Expensive slop, but slop nonetheless. Drunkenness was a luxury that, with quite some bitterness, she knew would not accompany her throughout the rest of the afternoon.
For the most part she accepted this.

Of course, such a revelation did not quell her determination to be accompanied by a constant buzz as long as she felt the need to remain here.
Which was basically until the prudes felt a need to cut her off or until she felt her social obligation had been met. Though she suspected none would dare go as far as to openly cut her off. It might show some sign of intolerance towards one of their very wealthy, and very absent, benefactors.
As it was, she didn't show any sign of being intoxicated.

She still couldn't believe that thee Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy and figurehead of Wayne Enterprises, could and would talk her into attending such an event. An odd accomplishment by itself, as she wasn't the type of person that usually accepted random acts of kindness.

Though it probably wasn't quite as random as she had originally thought. Whatever the case, no matter how many times she tried to refuse the offer, Mr. Wayne was not a man that liked to accept the word 'No' unless it was under his own terms. That or he really didn't want to be forced to mingle with these people.
If that was the case she couldn't blame him, as she too was doing her best to avoid rubbing elbows with Gothams elite army of prudes and staunch aristocrats, while trying desperately to get drunk enough so that her... anxiety, would abate.

On the plus side, the art that had been presented for this particular gallery was, for the most part, interesting. Until now. The last leg of the gallery turned out to be just a little too modern for her tastes. As much as she could tolerate and work with technology, when it came to her old hobbies she was pretty much a traditionalist. All of this... this postmodernism and pop art crap assaulted her eyes and did nothing to aid her current predicament.

Of course... once this little shindig was over with, she really had nowhere else to be. She hadn't heard back from Brawly yet, which probably meant that her little... anxiety issues were taking a turn for the worst.
Not that they had ever been good, but getting worse?
She very much dreaded the scenarios it brought to her floundering brain.

With an inward sigh, she finished off the last of her not-so-boozilicious drink and darted her hand into her pocket, lifting out her phone just enough to see what time it was.

Not late enough.

Marcus wouldn't even have the bar open yet. Hell, she doubted if he was even up. Not that he desperately needed the patrons, but with the types of 'customers' he served she couldn't imagine them not needing or wanting another place to... drink, while they waited for the last rays of daylight to diminish below the jagged maw of Gotham.

She began to wander around again, looking at images she had already looked at and finding them no more interesting than the last time she'd looked.
Maybe they were a bit fuzzier around the edges, but anything of further interest stopped there.
Or was that the 'anxieties' doing?
Lost in her thoughts, at some point she ended up depositing the empty glass she had been holding rather loosely with her fingertips, considering another drink but quickly deciding against it.
After all, she wasn't an alcoholic. Not in the typical sense.

As long as she didn't stay too late and took her 'medication', as she liked to think of it, things should remain tolerable.

Of course, in Gotham, nothing ever went according to plan. In fact... people would probably live longer if they never went by them.

Especially when there was always one individual that never seemed to take a night off.