Leaning back in my chair, I rested my boot-clad feet on my desk, as well as sipping the Starbucks coffee I had bought earlier and browsing through police files. I had managed to hack into the GCPD's database and steal them. The ones that had my attention were the reports written about the Batman by Jim Gordon himself.

"Jarvis, could you find the very first file Jim wrote on Batman, please?" I requested, placing my coffee cup down onto the desk, removing my feet as I did so. I pushed my chair back, the wheels making the chair glide across the concrete floor, so I had a better view of the big screens.

"Of course, Miss Dawn but you should know that there is an unknown caller on your secure line."

"Are you sure you've secured the line? I don't want anyone getting this location, J."

"The line is secure, and encrypted to hide your location, Miss Dawn."

"Alright then, patch the person through. No video link." I instructed.

Jarvis did so, and I leaned back in my chair, my hands curling round my coffee cup, intrigued as to who was calling me. My instincts told me that it was someone I had been expecting or waiting around for. I picked up my ear piece that acted as a voice changer, thanks to Tony, and switched it on before I spoke.

"Hello this is the Dark Vixen's helpline. Leave your name, number, home address and social security number and she'll get back to you as soon as possible." I grinned at my own wit as there was no one else about to appreciate it.

"I need you to patrol the city tonight."

"Well, well, well, is that you B-man? Are you asking me for my help?" I teased him, knowing that he would hate it. He was serious 24/7 when it came to this job. Apart from those few lapses in judgement when we'd kissed, but hey, even the good guy gets to take a few breathtaking minutes off.

"Will you do it or not?"

"You call, I come. I thought I explained this? Why'd you need me tonight of all nights?"

"I'm going out of town for the next three days, I need you to patrol for me."

"What are you leaving the city for?" I asked, sipping the remains of my cup of coffee before throwing it in the bin beside my desk.

"You don't need to know."

"I'll decide whether I need to know or not. So tell me…what task out of Gotham is so pressing that you would leave the city in my oh so capable hands?"

"The District Attorney Harvey Dent and Jim Gordon needed help to get a fugitive who fled back to his home country in Shanghai. That's where I'm going."

"Thanks for sharing, Bats. Need me to leave now?" I asked, standing and walking over to the cabinet where I keep my mask and weapons. I stuck my mask on my face, before I picked up a few of my throwing knives and decided to take my sais out for a spin. One of my martial arts tutors had taught me how to use the sai and I became quite efficient at it.

"Yes. Now."

"Why so serious all the time, Bats? Lighten up a little. I'm leaving now!" I laughed, hearing his growl in my ear. I walked over to my bike, straddling it and turning on the engine to help prove my point.

"This isn't a game."

"Oh, but this thing we're doing most certainly is. And I have to say I'm having fun playing. Are you having fun, Bats?" I asked, pushing his patience a little more, and I knew I was getting to him.

"Are you trying to make me regret asking for your help?" Batman answered in his signature gravely voice, this time angrier than before, which, of course, only made it more funny.

"It is so easy to get under your skin! You need to relax. You just need to remember that I was doing this when I was sixteen. If I could protect the city back then, I can do it now. Stop worrying, go get the bad guy and we'll talk more when you get back. Dark Vixen out."

I hung up on him, and drove away heading towards the Narrows, where most of the crime in Gotham occurred, to begin my watch. This felt good. Normal. Like I was sixteen years old and had the same moral code again. I was doing what I did best, and fighting for the good guys again. My life was on track again.

There was no suspicious gang activity that I could see, apart from the odd drug deal which I quickly broke up and knocked both dealer and buyer unconscious and left them chained to pipes so the police could pick them up. There was one guy who was being assaulted by a female attacker (it's not always female victims) and I easily subdued her and got the guy to safety. For most of the night, I stayed lurking in the shadows, just watching my city from rooftops.

I've always belonged to the night, despite having a healthy fear for it. It's only natural given my childhood trauma to have the fear I do. Being afraid of the night and what it holds gives me a certain respect for it too, which makes me more wary and cautious of it. Well most of the time, I'm cautious…some of the time. When I can remember to be, I'm careful.

I stayed out till early in the morning, wanting to do my best to prove to the Bats that he could trust me. There were a few muggings that I stopped, a few minor drug deals and an attempted rape - which infuriated me as it brought back horrible memories so I may have been a little too rough with him - before I headed back to my warehouse. By the time I had changed out of my suit and had locked everything down and secured everything, it was 6 am, so I decided to just head straight to my office at Turner Industries.

But first, I stopped at a newsstand to get the morning paper, and was surprised and furious when I read the headline. Wayne Joins The Russian Ballet, the headline read. I instantly skimmed the article, seeing the my boyfriend had taken all the female Russian ballerinas on a yacht to the waters of Shanghai. I was fuming because he was making a fool out of me, and because my mind was already making links to him and Batman. It was more than a coincidence that the Bats asked me to patrol for the next three days because he was chasing a fugitive to Shanghai, and now Bruce was there with the Russian Ballet.

I took my phone out of my bag with one hand, and with the other gave the newspaper vendor a buck for the paper. I called Bruce's phone, not caring about how much the call would cost me and wasn't surprised when Alfred answered.

"Bruce Wayne's phone, who might I ask is calling?" Alfred's comforting British accent asked from thousands of miles away.

"It's Suzanne, Alfred." I said, and I heard Alfred talk to someone away from the phone. Probably Bruce. That bastard. Bruce, not Alfred. Alfred's a sweetheart.

"Ah, Master Wayne is preoccupied, Miss Dawn. Can I take a message?" Alfred finally said.

"Yes, you can, Alfred. That would be great. Tell Bruce to answer his own phone and be a man. I know it must be hard to tear himself away from all those beautiful Russians, but sometimes grown ups have to face uncomfortable situations, like tongue lashings from their angry ex-girlfriends."

"Ex-girlfriend, Miss Dawn?"

"Yes, Alfred. He might be an eccentric billionaire, but he's got to know that whisking away the Russian ballet to a different continent is a dating faux pas. And quite frankly this whole thing is giving me whiplash. One moment I like him and he likes me and it's all great, but the next he's an ass. He's like two different people, and I've got my own stuff to deal with."

"Miss Dawn-" Alfred started to speak, but I cut him off.

"And to be honest, Alfred, what kind of self-respecting woman would I be if I let him just pull this crap and not bat an eyelid? I'm not going to be the girl who just puts up with it because he's Bruce Wayne. Anyway, when you get off the phone and he gets off a blonde, just tell him not to bother coming to any of the events I've asked him to. I'll find somebody else. Goodbye, Alfred."

I hung up the phone, angry at Bruce and angrier at myself for even believing Bruce's shit. How could I have been so stupid? The guy was known for being a playboy, and despite not even wanting to date him in the first place, I had let myself get sucked in by his charming smile and pretty blue eyes. I was a pathetic excuse for a woman and a lipstick feminist.

I looked up and saw this guy watching me. He was smoking hot, with these bright leafy green eyes, which were eyeing me up and down but not in a perverted way or a 'I'm-totally-picturing-what's-underneath-those-layers' kind of way either. He was just scrutinising me, I think.

"May I help you?" I questioned.

"I'm sorry…I overheard your conversation and was wondering how could anyone cheat on you. I've said it before and I'll say it again, Bruce Wayne is an idiot." The guy said, and I actually cracked a smile.

"You are most wise, mysterious stranger," I teased, and held my hand out for him to shake. "Suzanne Dawn."

"I know. Everyone knows Suzanne Dawn, Gotham's Princess," He smiled, and I was almost blinded by how beautiful his smile was as he took my hand. This guy must be a model or something. He was ridiculously attractive and he had a firm handshake. "I'm Dick Grayson."

"Where have I heard that name before?" I questioned, until it popped into my head. "Oh yeah, you were one of the Flying Grayson's, right? That acrobatic family? I saw your show once. I'm so sorry about what happened to your family."

"Thank you, but it was quite a few years ago. I've had time to adjust," Dick said, as I realised we were still shaking hands. "I saw you in court the other day. That was brave and from what I could tell a brilliant right hook."

"Not the first time some nut has threatened me, probably not the last and I've been taking mixed martial arts since I was a teen, so that guy was lucky he didn't end up with a broken arm," I smiled at him, and then looked down at our hands again. "Do you mind if I have my hand back now?"

"Oh yeah, sorry! I'm sorry, I just keep getting distracted. You have the prettiest smile." Dick said, and I laughed as he finally let my hand go.

"I like you. I have to go to work now, but are you free for lunch? Today is my "eat like a regular person" day, which means I'm hunting down some small diner somewhere for a burger. You know any place?" I questioned, as I opened up my purse and plucked out one of my business cards.

"There's this place on fifth that has the best burgers in Gotham, and I know the guy who owns it. I'm sure he'll have a table for us." Dick said, smiling that bright smile again and almost making me melt into a pool. He sort of reminded me of Bruce in that way…both ridiculously attractive and charming. It was almost irritating.

"Here's my number, if you change your mind. I won't judge. My life is a crazy train, so if you don't want to involve yourself with that…I completely understand," I grinned at him, and started to back away. "But…I personally think that would be a big mistake. So call me."

"See you at lunch!" He called to me, as I turned round and walked away, that same big grin still on my face.

As I headed into work, I tried to take my mind off of the douche bag who I worked under and the cute new guy I'd just met. Harold picked me up from the street corner I was on and drove me to the Turner Industries headquarters. I didn't need to flash my ID badge, because everyone knew who I was in that building. The elevator ride up to my office floor was quiet as no one else dared to get into the elevator with me, but two security guards. Harry had upped the security in the building as well since that creep, the Joker, had his goons try to pick me up. So now I had men standing outside my office at all times, and if I went to grab some coffee or to the bathroom, they'd follow me and wait outside the room until they could escort me back to the office. It was kind of ridiculous, but I won't lie and say it didn't make me feel good inside. All these years I thought Harry didn't care at all, and now I had an armed guard. Times change, I guess.

I signed paperwork, I helped out in the science department, and I talked with the board of my father's company; all while I tried to stop my brain from connecting Bruce to Batman. I mean, yes, there was evidence. Bruce and Batman both left town at the same time, Bruce had the resources and the motivation to be Batman and they had similar physical features, but really? Bruce couldn't be Batman! Bruce was a selfish jerk and Batman was a selfless hero. There was no way that Bruce was Batman. Or was there?

Lunch was my only saving grace. Turns out I had missed dating 'normal' guys. Dick was just a breath of fresh air…he was funny, and witty, and smart, and belonged in an Abercrombie and Fitch advert, but I think the thing I liked most about him was that I knew he was being real with me. I could never tell with Bruce, because of Rachel. I couldn't tell that if all the things he was saying and promising were true because he was still clearly in love with another woman.

Dick wasn't…as far as I could tell. There was something about him that I could relate to. Maybe it was watching a family member die in front of us in a tragic and horrific way, or that we both had the same ideals.

Needless to say that I'd found my new date to my benefit.

Wednesday and Thursday flew past and I spent most of my time working, and talking to an Dick. We met up for lunch each day, and he'd agreed to throwing on a tux to be my date to the benefit. Bruce had left about five or six messages on my cell but I hadn't answered them. If he really wanted to talk, then he would come and see me. He wasn't allowed to my office in Turner Industries, and in the only board meeting for Wayne Industries we had had since his return, I remained professional and talked to him, but as soon as the meeting was over, I was out of there, and ignored him trying to call after me.

For now, I was doing the last minute touches on the ballroom I was hosting my GCPD fundraiser in. I was already dressed in my ball gown, and I would leave just before the first guests arrived and show up about twenty minutes late with my date. It would certainly get tongues wagging. As would my dress. It was a tan one of a kind Zuhair Murad that was made for me. It was beautiful and, without sounding too vain, I looked beautiful in it.

I had placed the last few finishing touches around the ballroom, smoothing a table cloth or directing the decorating staff in straightening the banner above the small podium, when Jim arrived with Barbara.

I smiled at him and strode towards him, gesturing to the room.

"What do you think, Dad?" I asked, as I came to stand beside him, and looked around the room with him and Barbara, ignoring his happy-yet-sad look he always gives me when I call him 'Dad' instead of calling Harry it. Despite being on slightly better terms with Harry, my real father, now, Jim will always be my Dad. He practically raised me, and I love him like a dad so nothing is going to stop me from treating him like it.

I, and the decorators, had done a good job, I think. The place looked classy, yet not as decked out in finery as these kinds of fundraisers usually were. I didn't want to make the police officers who were attending to feel inadequate or lesser people because there were in a room full of rich, powerful people.

"You did good, kid." Jim smiled at me.

"It's beautiful, Suzie. You've done wonderfully." Barbara enthused, as I waved over one of the waiter's holding a tray of full champagne flutes. I picked two of the flutes of his tray and handed them to my adopted parents.

"Let's not jinx the evening. I'm going to shake the rich and powerful for as much as possible, so that you can be safer. I saw the riot gear you guys are using and almost punched a wall. You need better protection, Dad, for my and Mom's peace of mind."

Barbara, unlike Jim, loved me calling her 'mom'. When they were practically raising me, Barbara hadn't been able to have her own children and, what with Jim's poor cop's salary, they hadn't been able to afford any medical alternatives.

Now, they've got two of their own children, but they both still treat me as their own. I'll always be thankful for that, because Barbara's home care packages and Jim's encouraging phone calls got me through college and my, uh, night time activities.

Barbara beamed at me, before sipping on her champagne. I grinned back at her, before I made a gesture towards the entrance.

"Anyway, enjoy yourselves tonight. I have to go and make my grand entrance, but I'm leaving you in the oh so capable hands of my new personal assistant," I smiled at the thought of the kid, and Jim raised an eyebrow at me. "I just got him today. Cute, nervous little thing he is. P.J Davidson is his name if you want to do a background check as soon as you leave tonight. P.J!"

I waved P.J over, and he hurried towards us with his clipboard in hand, and his glasses perched on the end of his nose. When he pretty much skidded to a stop beside us, he pushed his spectacles up the ridge of his nose, forcing me to hold back a giggle.

"Everything is running smoothly, ma'am." P.J said, making me grimace. I was in my late twenties, not my fifties or sixties. I was not old enough for 'ma'am'.

"Don't call me 'ma'am', P.J. How many times have I got to tell you to call me Suzie? Anyway, that's good to hear," I smiled at him, before I put my hands on Jim and Barbara's shoulders. "This is Lieutenant Jim Gordon and his wife, Barbara. They are two of our biggest VIPs, okay, P.J? I want them treated as well as the Mayor, the Police Commissioner and my fellow rich businesspeople."

P.J nodded, and wrote it down.

"I'm gonna head out now, so I take it you've got everything under control?" I asked my assistant, needing assurances. I'd only just met the kid today, I didn't exactly trust him, but he had good references and his background check came back really well. He had no black marks against his name, no criminal record, nothing bad at all. I'd even gotten Jarvis to double check it all.

"Yes, ma'am…I'm mean…yes, Suzie."

"The limo is right outside, right? And you have my cue set for when I arrive?" I questioned.

"Everything, absolutely everything is ready!" P.J said, and I smiled in return.

"Right, then I'll just go. Seems I'm not needed. I will see you in about twenty minutes," I said, as I hugged Jim and Barbara goodbye. I walked towards the exit, but not before shouting over my shoulder, "Enjoy yourselves! No talking shop, Lieutenant!"

I walked outside, and down the red carpet, climbing into the limo that Harold was waiting outside of. No one else was allowed to drive me anywhere, so Harold had a license to drive pretty much any sort of vehicle. Harold closed the door behind me, and quickly moved and got in the driver's seat, just as the first photographers showed up to take red carpet photos. I'd handpicked the photographers and reporters that were allowed into the event. Funnily enough, Vicki Vale was surprised that she had gotten an invite. As well as Vale from the Gotham Gazette, reporters from the Gotham Globe, and the Daily Planet, as well as a couple of hired photographers. I like photos from my events as keepsakes and publicity. Also, Jack Ryder was going to make an appearance for his radio show, which I actually kind of liked…mostly because he had a crush on me and only said nice things about me. I was going to let him do a short interview with me before I left the ball.

"Where are we going while the guests arrive, Miss Dawn?" Harold asked, and I smiled at him.

"We need to go pick up my date."

"Are you ready?" I questioned Dick, just as Harold pulled up outside the ballroom the fundraiser was being held in.

"For our private lives to be splashed across every Gotham newspaper? I'm sure it won't be that bad, right? Besides, I don't really care what they say, because I like you and you like me and that's all that matters." He flashed me that grin that made me want to melt into a puddle of Suzanne Dawn goo, but then I realised that it actually make me melt. I just wanted to. Probably because of Bruce.

Harold opened up the door on his side, and he stepped out, smiling unsurely as people started calling out for his name, and then turned to help me out. As soon as the few photographers saw us together, we were bombarded with questions and flashing cameras, which we stopped for. Dick wrapped his arm around my waist and I mimicked him, as we both smiled widely for the photographers.

"Miss Dawn! Who is your new man? Aren't you dating Bruce Wayne?" Vicki Vale questioned, and all I did was wink in reply. We would answer questions later, after I'd given a speech and put the focus of the attention on the actual fundraiser.

"What's his name, Miss Dawn?" Another reporter questioned, this one from the Globe.

"We will answer all your questions, fundraiser related and a couple of others, once we are inside and I have gotten my speech out of the way." I said, as Dick steered me in the direction of the building. I guessed the camera flashes were probably getting on his nerves.

The photographers followed us in, the reporters still hounding us with questions. We politely ignored them, as we snagged a champagne flute each, and the room quietened at the sight of us.

I looked around the room, seeing if everyone important had arrived, and then I caught eyes with someone I had expected to show up, but rather wished he hadn't bothered. Bruce stared at me, particularly at Dick's hand that was resting against my hip. I just shook my head slightly at him, my curled hair sashaying around my face before moving back into position, and tore my eyes away from him.

"Tonight we celebrate Gotham's finest. Each of us in this room has had some sort of encounter with the GCPD, whether it was for a drunk and disorderly charge or a speeding ticket. My first encounter with these brave men and women was when I was six years old, terrified and alone, and I was saved by a kind man in a dark navy uniform, who let me put the sirens on in his police car and promised that everything would be alright," I smiled sadly at Jim, raising my glass slightly at him. "Tonight, we'll crack open our check books, dust off our wallets and purses and fund the GCPD, so they are better equipped to protect our streets and themselves while in the line of duty. But first, I would like you to all raise your glasses of ridiculously expensive champagne, and give thanks to the boys and girls in blue for laying everything on the line to keep Gotham City safe from those who would try and tear it down! To the boys and girls in blue!"

Everyone in the room raised their glasses and repeated my last six words, and I smiled.

"Now, eat, drink and donate. And enjoy yourselves." I added, before I took Dick's hand in mine, squeezing it tight, before we turned to face the reporters and, most importantly, Vicki Vale. She was the one I knew would be asking most of the questions.

Vicki had certainly dressed herself up for the fundraiser, and was wearing a floor length black dress with silver chandelier earrings that weren't hidden by her hair, which she had pulled into an knot on the back of her head.

I smiled a thin-lipped smile at her, and prepared myself for her questions.

"Nice speech, Miss Dawn. Must've been hard referencing your mother's death," Vicki stated, rather than asked. There was no real question there really, because what idiot would think that talking about losing a parent or loved one wouldn't be difficult. "Is that why you threw this fundraiser? Because of her death?"

"My mother loved this city, and respected the legal system, throwing fundraisers like this one to raise money for the health sector, the police and a number of charities. Her legacy lives on through me, and I see this as a way of holding on to her memory," I replied, feeling Dick squeeze my hand in comfort. "I threw this fundraiser for the GCPD, because I share my mother's respect for the legal system, and I have friends within the police department, who I would like to have better equipment to make them safer so they can go out and protect our streets and then return home in one piece to their families."

"Who's your new man, Miss Dawn?" A reporter from the back of the pack of information-hungry wolves asked.

I looked at Dick, and he nodded, as if to say he was okay if I told them his name. I was a little bit hesitant, especially after those thugs, who were apparently working for the Joker, attacked me the other night, but if he was okay with it then I couldn't really say anything.

"This is my good friend, Richard Grayson."

"Miss Dawn, what happened to you and Bruce Wayne?" The reporter for the Gotham Globe questioned.

"Nothing. I'm on the board of Wayne Enterprises, and I'm acting-CEO of Turner Industries. Mr Wayne and I have a working business relationship. That's all." I replied, feeling rather uncomfortable about talking about Bruce. I hadn't even spoken to him since the whole Russian ballet incident, or talked about him.

"Are you and Mr Grayson here in a relationship?" Vicki Vale asked, deciding to completely omit the subtle veil she had used when we first met, and be completely blunt about it.

"We haven't actually discussed that yet. We're just enjoying each other's company right now." Dick replied, and I smiled at the way he was handling himself and how he wasn't really pressuring me into a relationship. I wasn't ready with Bruce, and I wasn't ready with Dick either.

"Miss Dawn, you've spoken about your respect for the legal system, and we know that you studied Law at college, but what are your views on the crazed lunatic, the Joker?" Vale questioned, and I sighed.

"I think that the Joker wants you to write stories about him, to spread the fear, to help him cause the chaos he seemingly thrives on. I think you shouldn't give him that satisfaction," I said, and when Vale went to speak, I held my hand up and stopped her. "Now, if you will excuse me, Miss Vale and her fellow reporters, Mr Grayson and I have to mingle with my guests."

I dragged Dick away, about to take him to talk to the Police Commissioner, but he tugged me back, spinning me around and into his arms. I shook my head, smiling at the move, as he began to sway us from side to side.

"Smooth move, slick." I commented, as I settled into his arms, resting one hand on his shoulder, and slipping the other into his hand. His other hand was already lightly gripping my waist and the whole thing felt nice. Not electric, like with Bruce, but nice enough. There was a spark between us, but it wasn't exactly fireworks.

"I try." He replied, with a smirk, and I rolled my eyes at him.

"It was a smooth move. I'll give you a seven out of ten for it." I teased him.

"The classics are always the best." Dick said, as he pulled me even closer to him, so we were practically flush against each other. I looked up at him, and saw him already staring down at me with an all too familiar heat in his eyes. That was pure animalistic attraction and I wasn't sure how I felt about it. I mean, Dick is hot. Super hot, but…pissed or not, there was something still pulling me towards Bruce, as much as I hated to admit it.

And as quickly as the moment had started, it was soon broken by a pest, who I had wished would've followed my requests and stayed away.

"May I cut in?" His voice made me squeeze my eyes close in irritation and a scowl form on my lips. Yet, before I could open my mouth to refuse him, Dick opened his mouth instead.

"Yeah sure, Bruce, but one dance. She's my date after all." Dick said, letting his hold on me drop, and I narrowed my eyes at him, and shook my head angrily at him, as Bruce took his place. I put on a fake smile, and reluctantly moved into his arms, ignoring that electric feeling. I couldn't give into him, not after what he did. I was not forgiving him.

"You look absolutely beautiful, Suzie."

"Can we not do this?" I questioned, sighing.

"Fine. What are you doing with Dick Grayson?" Bruce retaliated, and I looked at him sharply.

"You know him?" I felt confused. Dick had never said anything.

"Well I should, he lives with me." Bruce replied, and I blinked owlishly at him for a moment, before I got over my moment of stunned silence.

"What? Dick lives with you? Explain. Quickly." I ordered, barely noticing that we were still swaying from side to side.

"He didn't tell you? When I was "missing", and Dick was made an orphan, he needed a place to stay. Alfred had been there that night and let him stay at the Manor. He's stayed with us ever since, he's practically family."

"Well secret keeping runs in the family, doesn't it?" I said, smiling tightly at him in a not-so friendly way. His grip on my hand tightened in response, but not in a painful way. Like he was trying to comfort me or something, and that made my blood boil. He was exactly not the person I wanted to receive comfort from at this moment in time.

"Alfred told me everything you said and I've called you a dozen times, tried to see you at your office, tried to talk to you after meetings…I'm sorry, Suzanne. I messed up."

"I just don't understand why you did it. I'm not exactly brilliant at relationships, but I thought things were going okay."

"I have a certain…reputation to-"

"Bullshit. This was not about your playboy persona and you know it. You're just scared to let anyone too close to you. Afraid that they'll get hurt or you will, because of your parents and Rachel, and because you're afraid that you'll get burned again," I said, and I felt his body tense, probably because I mentioned his parents, but I carried on ranting anyway. "My mother died when I was six. My father got so depressed that he stopped paying attention to me and let another man raise me. All my relationships have crashed and burned, but that doesn't stop me from trying to find someone. Someone who'll stick around through the good and the bad. Someone who understands me and my choices and respects them. Someone who'll love me for Suzanne the person, not Suzanne the billionaire. I'm not saying that I thought you were that person for me. I just thought that you could be."

Bruce stared down at me, and instead of that lustful fire that was usually in his eyes when he looked at me, there was something softer. Something gentler and more affectionate. It wasn't love. I don't think we were there. This wasn't a rom-com with Jennifer Aniston and Ben Affleck. It was close. It was that line between affection and love and it was terrifying. Right now, after the whole ballerina-thing and my suspicions on his 'nightly activities', I was not ready to go there with Bruce. I wasn't sure that I wanted to spend anymore time with Dick either. He lives with Bruce and he didn't tell me, even after I asked him if he knew Bruce Wayne. He just replied that everyone knows Bruce Wayne in Gotham. We'd left it like that, but he knew him. He lived with him and was practically family, and he never said a word.

"We're both broken people, Bruce, but I thought we respected each other." I shrugged, as we swayed round in a square again.

"I do respect you."

"How can you expect me to believe that when you jet off to Shanghai and lounge about on a yacht with Russian ballerinas just when I start to believe in you?" I questioned, stepping away from him. I saw Dick standing alone at the bar, and caught his eye. When he saw that I was upset, he started walking towards me but I shook my head and he stopped in his tracks. "I can't deal with this right now. I've got guests to attend to. Enjoy the rest of the gala, Bruce."

I walked away from him, and headed over to start a conversation with the Police Commissioner.

So this evening was eventful, just for the wrong reasons. It couldn't get any worse…could it?

It seemed like forever, but eventually the evening had wound down to a close. The rich of Gotham had donated $350 million dollars to the GCPD, bringing the total to an even $500 million dollars after I had contributed my own donation. It had been a success. I had spent the evening with Jim and Barbara mostly, and Harvey and Rachel, but flitted around the room being the social butterfly that was expected of me. I spent most of the rest of the evening avoiding Bruce and Dick, who I think left together some time during the middle of the event, which I was thankful for. After one confrontation with Bruce, I wasn't ready for another with Dick.

I gave another speech, thanking everyone for coming along and supporting our city's brave police department, handing Commissioner Loeb a check with the sum, and then my guests started to trickle out, one-by-one. I had fake smiled so much that I was prepared to look like a miserable bitch for the next few years to rest the muscles in my face.

After the guests had all gone, I was helping PJ direct the catering staff and clean-up crew, but my assistant could obviously see that I was tired and cranky.

"Suzanne, why don't you go home? I've got this. I'll call Harold to come pick you up." P.J said, ushering me out the door without letting me even protest.

I don't think I would have even argued with him about it. I was emotionally drained and tired, and just so ready to be at home in my bed.

Which is probably why I didn't notice the person moving towards me, while I stood at the curb waiting for Harold, until after they had grabbed me and pressed the cloth against my mouth. I struggled for a moment, before I realised that the cloth was covered with a strong dose of chloroform and I had already inhaled it.

The last thing I heard was an unsettling cackle of laughter before the lights went out and everything went dark.

A/N

I don't usually do these, but I got a review saying that I sucked at updating. I'd just like to inform you that I have a lot of health problems that I have to contend with as well as being a student at college, so sometimes I'm too busy to write or update, so I apologise for that, but you guys have lives away from FF too, so I'm just asking for some old-fashioned understanding here, okay?

I hope you liked the new chapter, I will be working on the next chapter as soon as I can.

SophStratt