"So, what was it you wanted to talk about with me?"
"Oh, stop the pretense, Denalynne...why are you doing this?
She took a few calculating steps towards the fountain, then turned to face him again.
"Well, I should hope my speech wasn't that vague..."
"You know what I mean!" he said, heatedly. "I know you, and you didn't take all the trouble to come down to Gotham and throw together that pep talk JUST to help us out...did you."
Dark eyes met a pair of hardened green. The air seemed to freeze around them.
"Oh Adam...never did think I could do anything right." Denalynne reached up and slid the stone-work pin out of her hair. "Well, maybe you did at one time, or you wouldn't have given me this. A family heirloom, is that what you called it?"
"What I call things obviously doesn't matter to you…things like 'daughter', or 'commitment'...look, that's not what I called you out here for." His voice faltered.
"Please, Denalynne..." he strode over, placed pleading hands lightly on her shoulders. "Don't do this. Lacey's going to hear about you being here, it'll be all over the news tomorrow. Do you have any idea what a hard time I had telling her she couldn't come with me for the gala? The divorce has done enough without seeing her mother perfectly happy to be partying and canoodling with billionaire playboys!"
She smiled at the look which came across his face.
"You're so pitiful, Adam...but I'll play along. So here's the part where I get all remorseful about my behavior?" Her lips curled into a sneer. "And here's where I say that I really, really care what your brat feels?"
VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV
Officer Montoya looked at Bruce inquisitively. "That was Sergeant Adam Branson!"
Bruce's brows furrowed, then he asked though half-knowing the answer. "And she is his...?"
"His ex, and in the worst possible way. Though I suppose you wouldn't have heard about it if you didn't read Seddersville papers at the time. Branson told me all this once, she filed and left him with their daughter. Didn't she say anything? Well," she scoffed "of course she didn't..."
But Bruce wasn't listening to Montoya anymore. His ears picked up the sound of an argument growing rapidly louder each moment.
"Excuse me." he said grimly, and headed for the door. He leaped the steps to the garden, and nearly landed on a small, broken object. A quick glance down revealed it to be the stonework pin.
"Let go of me, you monster!"
"You selfish,unfeeling woman, you-"
Bruce crossed the distance to the grappling couple and tore Adam away from Denalynne. Several other officers raced into the courtyard and grabbed a hold of their comrade. By this time all the other guests were gaping at the scene through every window, staring at the shattered night through French doors.
And, right away, came the flash of a camera.
VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV
Sergeant Adams had been taken into custody, and the festivities dissipated just as quickly. But the press hadn't. Film would later splash images of the thrashing, infuriated sergeant and of the crying, disheveled hostess across Gotham.
Bruce had to set his jaw and grimly keep his position beside Denalynne as a medic wrapped a shock blanket around her shoulders and checked for injuries. There were none. Bruce could've told the medic that. But there was no end of crying and shivering, of a perfectly mistreated woman. And Bruce could have predicted that, too.
"H-he j-j-j-just wanted to talk, and I thought that we could finally make it right after the divorce, but then he became so angry..."
Bruce stood up and strode through the small cluster of officers and reporters. Mayor Hill stood on the edge, but quickly approached Bruce, as though to say something.
Not quickly enough though. Perhaps he should have stayed and seen it out.
No, Bruce thought darkly. He'd seen enough.
And a moment later the night enveloped its prodigal.
