Disclaimer: So Brucey is not mine (sadness), but why do you keep making me say that? Anyway, here is some interaction between our two favorite characters other than Batman himself, along with some interjection by our villain! R & R, pleeeeease!!

In the velvety darkness of a Gotham night, Wayne Manor glowed like a beacon from its perch on a hill overlooking the city. The view was one that extended for miles around. A soft evening breeze swayed in the trees, and stars winked out from the clear, black sky.

Inside the great mansion, the charity event was in full swing.

"How are you enjoying yourself, Miss Kensington?" Alfred said, coming up behind Vic to stand beside her.

Vic smiled placidly. "Lovely. Given my absent date."

"Master Wayne is mingling." Alfred attempted to explain.

Vic chuckled. "I didn't say that it upset me that he was absent, Alfred." She tipped her flute of champagne back and drained its remains. "This," she wiggled the glass, "has been company enough."

Alfred smiled knowingly. "Indeed, Miss Kensington." With an almost imperceptible shake of his head, he turned to walk away.

"Why did Bruce ask me to be his date if only to leave me standing alone in the corner, Alfred?" Vic finally asked, breaking the silence.

"That is a question that only he can answer, Miss Kensington. You should ask him, for I should very much like to know myself."

Vic sighed and picked absentmindedly at the glitter that shimmered against her black cocktail dress and shifted on her black heels. She had the realization that her feet hurt from standing there for so long. "This has been a waste of my time." She muttered with a frustrated sigh. Leaving her corner she began making her way through the crowd. Weaving through the wealth of human traffic, she finally made it to the door where she was presented with her purse and wrap. "Thank you." She said shortly with a curt nod of her head.

Casting a glance over her shoulder, Vic met Bruce Wayne's eyes in the crowd. She shook her head and pursed her lips in a gesture of disgust and turned briskly on her heel to walk away. She was making her way down the front steps of the mansion when she heard Bruce behind her.

"Miss Kensington!"

She ignored him and kept on walking.

"Miss Kensington! Victoria!"

She whirled. "What."

Bruce paused, as though he couldn't think of the right thing to say.

She smirked. "That's what I thought. You are exactly what I thought you were. Nothing more than a billionaire playboy." She raked him with a scathing glare. "I have no idea why I agreed to this!"

"I do." Bruce replied, grinning lazily.

Vic rolled her eyes. "Just because you are a billionaire, Mr. Wayne, it does not mean you have all the answers to all the questions in this world."

Bruce shook his head. "No, Miss Kensington, I don't. But I do know the answer to this question. Would you care to hear my hypothesis?"

Against her better judgment, Vic nodded.

"You came tonight, Miss Kensington, because whether you care to admit it or not, you are curious about me and about Wayne Manor. You're curious about how I spend my time when I'm not in the public eye. You're extremely curious about what I might be doing with all of my money." Bruce came to stand uncomfortably close to her. "Just how close to the truth am I?"

Flustered, Vic turned away from him. "I'm the journalist here. I should be the one asking all of the questions."

Bruce spread his hands. "Then ask away."

"No." Vic replied. "You're making this far too easy."

"What do you want me to do? Dance around and avoid you and all your little journalistic tape recorder like the plague? Act like I've got everything in the world to hide?" Bruce peered at her steadily, waiting for her answer.

"Yes!" Vic retorted. "At least then I would no you weren't hiding something. If there is anything that I have learned about the social elite in Gotham, it is that they want you to think they have something to hide even when they don't. They like the scandal, the intrigue. You on the other hand, Mr. Wayne, are far too open, leading me to believe that you are hiding something." She stood her ground and met his gaze, waiting for him to flinch or break eye contact. Anything to signal that what she guessed was right.

"That is an intriguing supposition, Miss Kensington," Bruce murmured. He paused and then asked, "Tell me, what do you think of Batman?"

Vic blinked, startled by the sudden change of topic. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"More than you might guess." Bruce replied. "Just tell me what you think of the caped crusader." He grinned at the nickname.

"On the record or off the record?" Vic asked, fiddling with her purse strap.

"Both."

"On the record, I think the man is yesterday's news. He infatuated the people for a while, but like all of the great heroes they will tire of him, and eventually turn against him." She shrugged. "Personally, I think the man is a fraud."

Bruce raised his eyebrows. "Sounds like you're harboring some animosity towards our batty friend."

"Anyone that flies around Gotham at night in a rubber suit and a cape must have some kind of hidden agenda. Mark my words, he casing the joint, and just waiting for his moment to swoop in and take whatever it is that he's after." She frowned. "I think he wants to hurt this city."

"Why don't you ask him and find out for yourself? I can already see the headlines." Bruce chuckled. "Gotham's leading investigative reporter gets the first sit down interview with the infamous Batman."

"You're mocking me." Vic warned.

"If this Bat guy is after something, what do you think it is?"

"I wish I knew." Vic shook her head. "I think he might be mixed up with this new villain that I've been following lately." She turned away and walked back to the steps of Wayne Manor and sat down, missing the momentary expression of alarm that crossed Bruce's face.

"Don't tell me Gotham is under siege again." Bruce said half-jokingly.

"This guy is bad. Worse than the last crazy that came stampeding through the streets, looking to dominate Gotham." She shuddered. "He's real. He's very real."

"And you're afraid of him." Bruce finished her unspoken thought.

"I'm afraid of what he can do. Of what he might be able to do. There is still so much I don't know. Nothing adds up here...it is all so random...," she trailed off.

"I wish I could help." Bruce said quietly.

Vic glanced at him silently and then looked away again.

"Maybe you should call in the Batman for some back up. Just in case." Bruce smirked knowingly.

Vic pinned him with a stoic glance. "I was just beginning to like you. Now you blew it."

"Maybe I can fix that." Bruce came and took her hand, pulling her up off the step. "Come inside and dance with me. The night is still young, after all."

She eyeballed him for a moment before nodding her acquiescence. "Fine. Lead on, playboy."

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From the corner swathed in shadows he watched them. He scowled and glared at them as they spoke. That reporter would be trouble for him. Just as journalists always were. "Well, fine." He growled. "I can take care of you just as easily as the rest. And your little boyfriend, too."

Glaring into the night sky he looked for the one he really wanted. "Maybe I can use you to lead me to the Batman. An upstanding citizen such as he wouldn't let an innocent goody goody like you fall to someone like me." He laughed a coarse and brittle laugh. "Come to me, my pretty, come to me."