Dick was returning from a meeting with Lucius when he came across a woman who looked to be on the verge of tears. "Miss?" he ventured, approaching her. "Are you all right?"

Emily gave him a weak smile and a nod, then turned her watery eyes back to the department listings on the wall. A second later her face jerked back around to the man who'd come to a halt a foot or so away. Hel-lo, her heart leapt. "I…I'm all right, really," she replied as stably as she could manage. And so are you, she took him in with a brief glance. Designer suit, expensive shoes, gorgeous smile, she gasped to herself. Must work in marketing, or something. Something important.

"Are you new around here?"

"Oh, I…yes. It's my first day, actually," she confessed, suddenly feeling frumpy. She'd put on the best thing she owned this morning, but beside him she felt as if she were wearing a burlap sack. I would swear I've seen him somewhere before, she peered at him.

"Something?" he asked good-naturedly.

"No," she shook her head, realizing that she'd been staring. "I'm sorry, I…you looked familiar, but I can't place you."

"No problem," he laughed. "I do that all the time." He didn't, truly – Bruce had trained him long ago to memorize names and faces instantly – but she was edgy as hell, and a little commiseration never hurt when it came to calming people down. She doesn't recognize me, he crowed. That's a nice change of pace. Fifteen years of life as the ward of one of the richest men in the country had made him used to media coverage, but the last couple of years it seemed the buzzing never let up. You come home from Bludhaven, and apparently that makes you something special, he thought bemusedly. Probably because no one in their right mind would come back to Gotham. "Can I help you find something? Or someone?"

"I'm supposed to deliver this file to Research and Development," she explained. "I've already taken all day doing it." She giggled nervously. "I'm so lost."

"Hey, it's your first day. This place can be confusing. I'm on my way down there now, actually, so I'd be happy to show you where it is."

"Oh, thank you," she gushed. What the hell is wrong with me? I mean, yes, he's got Hollywood looks, but good lord, Emily, since when do you fall head over heels? Pull yourself together! "I'm Emily Darnell, by the way," she offered her hand. Well, that was forward, you dunce. A second later he took it, though, and her fears fled. He shook well, she couldn't help but notice, firm enough to be serious but not crushing her hand the way the few other men she'd shaken with had. No ring, she noted, glancing at his left hand. Really, Emily?! she berated herself again immediately afterwards. This isn't a movie! Snap out of it!

"Nice to meet you, Miss Darnell. I'm Dick," he grinned, knowing that the papers never used his nickname. "Just Dick. I don't stand on ceremony." Let's see how long this lasts, he decided, falling into step beside her. It'll be nice to have a conversation with someone who doesn't realize I'm the boss' kid. "So, where are you working?"

"I'm Mr. Wayne's new executive secretary. Well, I'm training to be, at least. And please," she blushed slightly, "call me Emily."

It took all of his training to not let his surprise show. Oh, man, Bruce's new secretary? This is hilarious. All of the other ones only applied because they were obsessed with everything tied to him, Dora said, and here's this new one who doesn't even realize…wow. I like her already. "Hey, that's a great job. You'll like it up there, he's a pushover for his secretaries. Not like that," he added quickly, seeing her blanch. "I just meant that once you get past the gruff exterior he's a, uh, really generous person." He'd wanted to say 'teddy bear,' but that would have made his connection with the top floor far too obvious.

"…Oh?" she queried, giving him a strange look. "You must have worked here for a while, then?"

"Yeah," he answered easily. "You could say that." Bruce had been bringing him in at least once a week since he was nine, after all; he supposed being adored by the desk girls and patted on the back by any and every man looking to curry the CEO's favor counted as work. "I'm down in R&D these days." He paused as they waited for the elevator. "How long have you been in Gotham?"

"About five years. I had a job with Consolidated Steel until recently…" she trailed off. Oh, why did I mention that? After everything that happened with poor Mr. McAvoy…just because Mr. Wayne happened to be his friend and stood up for him doesn't mean that everyone who works for him feels the same. Foolish, Em, foolish!

"Consolidated, huh? That was a shame," he shook his head. "I went to school with Jimmy McAvoy's son. You know, Bobby? He's working on a law degree at Yale. Well, he was," he lamented. Damned McCarthy and his cronies. McAvoy was as American as Superman, and they destroyed him. Bastards. "Now I guess he's just trying to keep himself out of jail. Were you…close to the top?"

"I…" She swallowed hard, remembering the dank little room she'd been interrogated in. Cruel men, cold men, launching questions that made no sense. "Yes," she answered simply.

"…I'm sorry to hear that, Emily." She looked up at the sincerity in his voice. His eyes were serious, understanding, and her pain lessened as she realized that he wasn't judging her. "I hope they weren't too nasty to you."

"Well, I'm here now," she said bravely. I tried so hard, but I'm sure something I said must have hurt Mr. McAvoy's case…they always seem to be able to twist whatever you say to suit their purposes, but you don't dare not speak…

"In a much better place," he nodded as their descent ended and the doors slid open. "Welcome to Research and Development," he changed the subject. "Or, as I like to call it, home away from home. Does that go to someone in particular? I'll take you to their office."

"…Mr. Wayne didn't say," she realized, her eyes widening as her attention was pulled back to her job. "And I didn't think to ask. He just said to take it to the…the Charm Department. I have no idea what that's supposed to mean."

"Just part of his jargon," Dick waved away. "I know what he meant. 'Charm Department' is code for Grayson." Should I tell her now? I don't want to freak her out, especially if she's still coming down off of issues with the HUAC. Still, she's already going to be upset, probably…hell. Now I wish I hadn't played around to begin with.

"Grayson…" For all that Emily didn't pay much attention to high society, she'd been in Gotham long enough to recognize that name when she heard it. "Mr. Wayne's son? He works down here?"

"Sure does."

"I would have thought the son of a multi-millionaire would be up on the management levels," she said frankly.

"Well, he does manage R&D," Dick shrugged.

"Oh. Well, I suppose that makes sense. Would you…would you mind pointing me towards his office?"

"Here, it's right up here on the left." The second door down the hall was open, the room empty. "You can just leave it on the desk."

"All right," she agreed. As she set the file down, she caught sight of the lone photograph on the tabletop. "Is that his fiancee?" she asked.

"Yeah," he smirked, watching her stare at the picture of Babs. "He's quite the lucky son of a bee, isn't he? Excuse my language."

"She's even prettier than I thought..."

"I don't know what she sees in him," he sighed honestly. "Don't get me wrong, he's a nice guy, but…she's out of this world."

"Have you met her?"

"She comes down occasionally to get him out of the office for lunch. She's a real sweetheart. Tough, though." He smiled. "Kind of like you, actually."

Had anyone else said such a thing while standing between her and the only exit, Emily would have been frightened. But this man had made her feel at ease so quickly, even after she brought up Consolidated Steel, that she knew there was no threat in the words. He was just being kind. "That's very nice of you to say, Dick," she thanked him quietly. "I should get back upstairs. I think I can find it myself, seeing as how all I have to do is get in the elevator and push the top button."

"Convenient, isn't it?"

"Yes," she laughed. "Thanks so much for your help. I…you're a very easy man to talk to, do you know that?" You've made me feel so much better about this place…

"Nah. I just like to help people."

"Well…thank you, anyway."

"Sure. Anytime." He walked out to the hallway with her – it would have been too suspicious for him to stay in what was ostensibly someone else's office – and released a low sigh of relief when she was safely at the elevator doors. Crisis averted. She'll figure it out eventually, but hopefully enough time will have passed for her to not feel like I was trying to catch her at something. Poor girl, I wish I'd known she was linked to McAvoy…I would never have pulled such a stupid stunt if I'd known she was just checked out by those headhunters...

"Hey, Mr. Grayson? I need you to sign this."

His train of thought was broken as a male voice came up behind him. Conroy, he closed his eyes. How many times to I have to tell you to just call me Dick? At the elevator, he saw Emily turn around, searching. Her gaze flew past him, no doubt to the man who was hailing him and absolutely ruining his cover, then returned to his face. Understanding, then a trace of fear, dawned in her eyes. Oh, no, Emily, wait, let me explain… He started towards her, holding his hands up in an attempt to show that he meant no harm, but the doors opened before he could take more than a single step. Wait! he wanted to call out as she backed into the compartment, her posture rigid. The doors shut, and she was gone. Oh, total hell…

Author's Note: It's hard to visit the early-to-mid 1950s without bringing McCarthy into things...maybe because it just plains boggles the mind. For those who were curious, the HUAC was the House Un-American Activities Committee. If you're unfamiliar with their shall we say interesting tactics, I advise googling them.

Emily's upset now, of course, but Dick's code name isn't 'Charm Department' for nothing...