A./N. Hello audience! As you may or may not know, my writer's block is gone! However…as soon as it disappeared, my sinus infection (go to my profile page for explanation about disappearance of writer's block and sinus infection) turned into bronchitis or pneumonia or something really bad like that. Therefore, this chapter was put on hold for a week or two. Then I had to stay at my grandparents' house for two days and they don't have a wireless internet signal… so yeah… Anyways, the actual date will be in the next chapter! I know I said that it would be in this one (I think I said that) but that seems to have changed. Sorry about that. Feel free to yell at me in your reviews! Also, thanks for the awesome reviews for the last chapter! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything! Just my OC character :/

"Casual…" I muttered as I searched through my small, overstuffed closet in my small apartment. I really need to rent a new apartment. Now that I'm no longer a student I can actually afford a bigger one with hopefully a bigger closet.

Half of the clothes I owned were tossed out on the floor and my bed. For the past half hour – since I got off of the phone with Bruce – has been filled with me picking up an article of clothing, looking it over, and then throwing it into my slowly growing 'discard pile'. Nothing here works!

Huffing in irritation, I turned away from my closet and looked around my now-messy room. Articles of clothing ranging from dresses to bras to shoes covered every inch of my once very tidy room. Except for a spot at the foot of my bed where I could see the corner of a trunk sticking out. Curious, I walked over to where the trunk was a moved all of the clothing away to find piles of my old college books. No wonder I didn't know this trunk was here, I thought bitterly. I wonder how much these books would sell for… Instead of continuing with my internal conversation about the sell cost of my old books I carefully moved them from the trunk and stared.

I remember this trunk. I remember its alabaster wood and almost fairytale-like look. It was a gift from my mother when I had turned seven years old. You see, on my mother's side of the family, it's a tradition to pass down this trunk to the eldest daughter on her seventh birthday. I was never really sure why, but I wish that I could have asked her before she died. Before… never mind.

I ran my hand across the smooth wood of the lid and traced the designs etched into the silver metal parts on the corners and edges. Slowly, I walked over to the nightstand on the right side of my bed and opened a drawer revealing a small silver key. How had I not remembered this before? It's probably been two years since I looked through the things in there. I walked back to the trunk and slipped the key into its hole and turned it to the right.

When the soft click signified the trunk unlocking, I lifted its lid and peered inside. I felt a wide smile appear on my face. My mother's favorite books and pictures littered the top of the very full trunk. I picked each and every one up and laid them gently on the floor next to me after examining them carefully.

Beneath all of the books and pictures were articles of clothing. My eyes got misty as I recalled my mother placing these clothes in the trunk. She had said to me, "When you're all grown up and you can fit in these clothes, I want you to wear them on your first date with your Prince Charming. It's what I wore when I went on my first date with your father so I consider them good luck." Now as a little seven year old girl, I still thought that boys were yucky and had told her that it would be a long time before I could wear them. My father had overheard the conversation and said, "You should be able to wear that in another forty years or so." My mother's eyes had twinkled as she laughed at both my father and me.

With a watery smile, I picked up the county styled sun dress and cardigan. My mother was born and raised in the south - right in the heart of eastern Kentucky, so most of her clothing had a country style to them.

The dress was a tad old fashioned with lace straps and a few embroidered flowers, but the restaurant that Bruce and I are going to is also old fashioned. No worries there! I held the dress close to me and silently sent a thank you up to her in Heaven.

I don't know if he's going to be my Prince Charming, Mom, I thought, but you said that these clothes were good luck. Maybe…maybe he's the one that I've been looking for.

I sat there for a few moments longer before standing up and grabbing a hanger and placing the dress and cardigan on it. I then placed the hanger on a hook at the entrance to my apartment and began to pick up my mother's books and pictures and the clothes that I had thrown around. As I placed the last article of clothing back in my closet, a sudden realization came to me.

I need to find shoes to match the dress. Well crap.


I woke up the next morning in bright spirits. My neighbors hadn't started their early morning argument yet, I had actually woken up on time, shoes for my dress had been found, and I didn't burn my coffee! Yeah, I'm living the life.

I turned my TV on and flipped through the channels until I got to the local news. Although the news is always depressing, I suppose it's important to at least know what's going on in Gotham – especially since I work at a hospital.

As I got ready, I idly listened to the monotone of the reporter and the theme music to the news channel. "Billionaire Bruce Wayne had no comment today regarding his accident nearly four weeks ago. After falling almost fifty feet to the floor of a cave while spelunking, Gotham's favorite son was rushed to the hospital by his butler where spent three weeks in recovery. Since then, the billionaire has failed to make any appearances with any of those lovely ladies he seems to always be around. Is Gotham's playboy giving up his playboy persona, or is he simply waiting until he is fully recovered from his accident before facing a life of partying once more? Back to you, Tom."

I sighed. Poor Bruce, not even the news channels can leave him alone and let him have some privacy. "A new string of murders has erupted in the past two weeks over Gotham. With six women already dead, the police are struggling to find any clues as to who the killer is. All of the women thus far seem to be in their early to mid-twenties. There is no other specific physical aspect that seems to repeat, so ladies, be sure to carry your pepper spray and stay away from any of those infamous dark alleyways."

Another major crime spree already? It's only been like four weeks since The Joker was taken into custody and that Batman was blamed for the death of five people and Harvey Dent - if you ask me, that's a whole bunch of bologna. I mean why would you work so hard to clean up Gotham and fight people like the Joker, only to go out and kill some of the most important people in the city in cold blood? Bologna.

Seriously though, what has this city come to? First, we have an almost city-wide panic due to some kind of gas last year. Then, we had an insane clown terrorizing the city and blowing up hospitals just a month ago. Now, we have a new serial killer murdering women my age for an unknown reason. I really need to move out of the city.

I finished getting ready in record time and grabbed my unused can of pepper spray along with my clothes for tonight before turning off my TV and heading out of my apartment building. Although it's only eight in the morning, the sidewalks are packed with pedestrians going to and coming from work. Street vendors were just opening their stands to the morning crowds of tourists and workers. Why anyone would want to visit Gotham is beyond me, but hey, to each their own.

With one last look at the packed streets, I began to work my way through the crowds of people to the nearest subway. I would have taken the monorail, but the monorail station in my part of the city had been destroyed in the panic last year and was still under construction.

Finally, I made it to the entrance of the subway. Quickly, I made my way down the steps without making eye contact with anyone. Unless you want to be mugged, you don't look at anyone except for the ticket seller or a cashier in one of the many small stores. I handed my money for a ticket to the woman behind the ticket seller booth. She looked to be about my age with a worried look on her face. I found out why soon after: the newspaper by her arm was covering the story on the new serial killer. The woman would be considered attractive to most, I suppose, so I guess she has a good reason to worry.

She slide me my ticket and change through the glass and murmured for me to have a good day. I gave her a small reassuring smile and walked to the subway platform where I scanned my ticket and waited for my train.

It took a few minutes for the train to get there but once it did, I slipped in and took a seat close to the door. Thankfully not many people were in the compartment with me. Just a few teenagers who I'm guessing are trying to skip school.

It takes fifteen minutes to get to the subway station next to the hospital. Those fifteen minutes are almost always filled will an awkward silence between me and the other passengers. Today was no exception thankfully. I really wasn't in the mood to try to settle an argument or stop a fight.

I did, however, get a small laugh in for the day. At the next stop, a policeman stepped in the doors with purpose and looked towards the teenagers. He raised an eyebrow at them before gesturing for them to follow him out of the train car. With slumped shoulders and annoyed looks, the teens exited through the doors with the officer. "Have a good day, Ma'am," he said to me before exiting.

Four stops later found me at the hospital entrance with my clothes folded over my arm and my pepper spray in the outer pocket of my purse – right where I can reach it. Only when I stepped through the automatic doors of the building and breathed in the scent of bleach and other cleaning aids did I relax my posture. Come to think of it, I didn't really realize how stiff I was.

As I walked towards the employee elevators I made sure I smiled brightly at every person I passed and give them a cheerful "Hello!" just like they told me to do at my very first orientation when I was a teen volunteer here. Oh how I miss the days when I was an ignorant high school student.

I clocked into my ten hour shift – thank God it's Friday – and grabbed my name badge from my locker in the staff lounge. After making sure that everything was where it should be, I stepped away from my locker only to run into –

"Hey there, Beautiful."

Jeremy.

"Good morning, Jeremy," I tried to say as politely as possible. It pained me to not come up with a retort, but sadly I have to be professional. Jeremy is East Gotham General's very own 'player'. Well, that's what he likes to believe. Ever since I was transferred here he's hit on me and my fellow nurses. It's quite annoying.

"What do you say to grabbing some dinner with me this evening after our shifts? Then maybe we can go to my place and… socialize," he said suggestively.

"Look, Jeremy," I said trying to squeeze past him, "it's not that I don't like you or anything, but I'm not interested. Okay? Besides I'm already having dinner with someone this evening. Now if you'll excuse me." Again, I tried to squeeze by him.

"What?!" he yelled in disbelief and I internally sighed. This is going to be a long ten hours.


For the last fifteen minutes of my shift, I got ready in the women's restroom. My nurse's uniform was replaced with my mother's dress and cardigan along with a pair of leather flip-flops. I pulled my hair out from my usual bun and let it fall down to my mid back in loose, natural curls. I applied just a small amount of make-up to my eyes to brighten them up a little. Finally, I was finished.

After clocking out, I quickly made my way down to the ground floor and out the automatic doors to the outside entrance of the hospital. My uniform was draped over one arm and my purse was latched safely onto my shoulder. With a frown, I realized that I didn't know what kind of car I was looking for. Pulling my cellphone from my purse, I dialed Bruce's number and waited as it rang.

On the third ring, he answered with a, "Hello?"

"Bruce, it's me. I'm outside of the hospital entrance, but I need some help. I don't exactly know what kind of car you're driving," I explained. I heard a brief laugh on the other end.

"I see you. Okay, look to your left," he instructed. Looking left, I saw nothing but grass and a large fountain. "No, your other left," he said.

I rolled my eyes. "That would be my right, not my left," I huffed.

"Right," he replied. "Now, look for a sliver Mercedes." Again, I did as he instructed.

"There's about three of them…no…four. Just drive up to the entrance you lazy bum," I said with a laugh. With a 'hmph' and a "Fine" Bruce hung up the phone and I saw one of the Mercedes pull out of its spot and make its way to me. I'm pretty sure that my jaw had dropped at some point because eventually Bruce rolled down the passenger window and said with a small smirk, "Are you getting in now or tomorrow?"

I rushed over to car and opened the door – the wing kind! – to hop in. After closing the door and putting my seatbelt on, I looked at Bruce with a playful glare. "I thought you said that this dinner was going to be casual," I teased.

"This is the most inconspicuous car that I have." Yeah, because a Mercedes Benz is 'casual'. "Besides, I can't exactly drive a motorcycle with a broken arm – and I'm sure that you wouldn't want to ride on one of those anyways," he said. Oh yeah, I forgot about his arm… I'll have to ask him how he is later, but first…

"Whatever you say Mr. Wayne," I replied with an eye roll. "Now get us to Johnny Rockets! I'm starving. I almost had to skip lunch because of one of my very annoying coworkers you know. He tried to ask me out to dinner first. Then, I had to explain to him that I was already going to dinner with you and he's been annoying me all day." I sighed dramatically and looked over at him. He had a smile on with face and his shoulders with shaking with quiet laughter.

"Oh, now I know you're not laughing at me," I said with a dangerous tone.

He glanced over at me a broke out into loud laughter. "It's hard not to! You're funny when you ramble. It's very endearing in my opinion," he said with a warm smile.

I blushed and mumbled, "You'll think endearing when I break your other arm."

Ignoring the threat, he just laughed at me again.

A./N. Love it? Hate it? Let me know! Just type your review in the big box down there! You know you want to O.O Doo it… Review!

~batfangirl