I stood in front of the full length mirror. The dress was a classic. It was a white halter dress that reached the floor. A black band crossed under my bust and bowed in the back.
I had my contacts in and make up on. White heels were on my feet. My hair was pulled up and back in a complicated knot.

It felt odd to dress up like this again. Lidia smiled as she looked me over. She looked at me as a daughter. She is 49, old enough to be my mother.

"He's here."

Carlton was angry that I was going. He was more upset with the fact that I was going without weapons. Without him. I turn and grab the coat from Lidia as I glide from the room and for the lift. Carlton follows.

He said nothing in the lift. When it stopped and the doors slid open I stepped forward to go. Carlton's large hand closes around my thin wrist. He pulls once. I twirl backwards from the strength in the pull.

I smack into his chest. We stood in the doors to the lift. My eyes fly wide open as his lips crash into mine. I jerk away. I glare at him.
SMACK!

His head whipped to the side. He slowly turns his head to look at me. My cheeks were flush with embarrassment. I lock my eyes with his. It was only a second but it felt longer. He smirked at me as the doors start to close. I turn away sharply before they finish.

I glide over to Bruce. He smiled at me. I pause to look at him. He was looking at me oddly. I had yet to show him any emotion.

"What causes you to look at me so?" I ask calmly.

"He just admitted his love for you. God knows how hard it was for him and you just smack him and turn away in such a cold manner. Is it not a little harsh?"

I look at him. Reading him. Why should I not answer him?

"Carlton is my guard and butler. He may be my oldest friend, but he knows me. He knew what he was doing when he did that. He knows my views on such things. Love is too strong an emotion for me. I may be able to pretend emotions, but only from watching others show them. I hate emotions that are too strong. I hate not understanding them."

I let the silence fall. I say nothing as I keep my eyes on him. He looked shocked by my response. Is it odd for a female to reject love and emotions like a man? I do not care. I was taught this way.

"Besides. It goes against my teachings. Father taught me that love was for the weak. I understand that it isn't for the weak, but it had caused my family too much trouble. It is a female weakness that makes us second class in Father's world."

Silence again.
"Emotions make you human."

I look at Wayne again. Showing my interest in what he has to say.

"To understand them you must have felt them."

For once it sank in. I stood there starring past him. I felt so incompetent. I had felt for Maria. My eyes close as I search my mind for all of the emotions I have felt. Hate, joy, rage, happiness, sad, almost everything. Two, I had not felt since I was a child stood out. Love. Fear. I understand fear.

I look away from Wayne. I felt pathetic now. It lasts for only a moment. I glance at him.

"Are you ready for the ballet?"

He smiles. We go out to the car. He was a complete gentleman. The ride was silent. I smile at the press as I get out of the car with Wayne's help. We had seats in a booth closest to the stage.

I sit next to Wayne and look at the stage. I didn't look at the people whispering and pointing at us. I gave them no mind. Bruce Wayne and I going to the ballet together had been news all week. This is one of the events of the year in Gotham.

A few camera flashes went off as I sat and looked at the curtains. Waiting. They even went off as I turned my head to talk to the waiter for a wine. The curtains opened.

I straighten and watch. It was the Nutcracker. I loved this ballet. It had been Maria's favorite. Anthony had loved the Rat King.

"I see you like the ballet."

I turn a smile to Wayne.

"I love the ballet, Mr. Wayne," I say with a wide smile that was pure childish happiness, an emotion I rarely showed or had outside of work.

Cameras flashed like crazy. I sip my wine as the curtains close for Intermission. I felt at ease with Mr. Wayne. I didn't feel threatened. He was smiling at me as I took a sip.

I catch movement in the corner of my eye and a flash of metal. I turn my head in one of my too quick for notice movements. Too late. The thunder of a gunshot fills the theatre.

I do not scream. My chair flies backwards and a weight covers me. I look up with wide, shocked eyes. Mr. Wayne was on top of me. The hole in the wall behind where I had been seconds before smoked.

Chaos filled the theatre. Mr. Wayne was starring down at me. A romantic moment, as women called it. I call it annoying. I push Wayne off quickly and am on my feet in seconds. My eyes lock on the back of the running person. They were blending with the crowd, but I was trained to be like them. I knew what to look for. I sneer at the back.

Wayne gets up and grips my arm lightly, trying to get me out of sight. I do not move.

"Jezika, it isn't safe here, they could strike again," he says.

I do not look at him. I am memorizing the way the man moved. They way he looked.

"Mr. Wayne, he is leaving. I'm watching him. He isn't the first to threaten my life," I drawl while watching the man disappear from my sight.

I turn my back to Wayne as I pull my coat on and pull out my phone.

"Carlton."

"Mistress."

"Lock down."

I snap the phone shut before he can start his rant. I flash a reassuring smile at Wayne. He had his coat on.

"Have you eaten tonight?" he asks as we leave the theatre.

"No, Mr. Wayne. I have yet to eat."

He looks at me as we get in the car.

"Call me Bruce. I don't like the formalities. We know each other."

I look at him. It is almost shocking to be told that.

"Bruce," I say it slowly, testing it out. I frown at my lap. It is so odd to use a first name when I wasn't working. "I'm sorry if I have offended you by the use of your last name."

"You haven't."

He smiled at me as we pulled up in front of a fancy restaurant. I step out with his help and let him lead me in. He doesn't take my arm. He seamed to understand that I don't do that much.

"Mr. Wayne," the host says as he spots us coming in. "Right this way. We have your usual table open."

The table is in the back of the restaurant. I sit. Bruce pushes my chair in after giving our coats to the host.

"What would you like tonight, Madame?"

I look over the menu. Bruce was watching me. I know he didn't know that I knew he was watching me. I hold the menu out to the waiter.

"Tonight's special if you will. A glass of water instead of wine."

"I'll have the same."

Bruce flashes me a grin. I look at him with my regular look, calm and blank. It was odd how much I had smiled tonight.

My Mind drifted. Why would Wayne ask me to the ballet? I look at his face out of my peripheral vision. He is good looking. He's older than me. Years. Why?

"What are you thinking about, Jezika?" Bruce asks, breaking our long silence.

I look at him again. I turn my gaze away. I let the silence lengthen. I open my mouth as I twirl the stem of my wine glass.

"I was wondering something."

He looks at me with more interest.

"What would that be?"

I sip my water.

"I was wondering why you asked me to go tonight," I pause as my eyes flick to his, catching his emotion. "I'm years younger. I'm sure I'm not your type. You're handsome, rich, etc. I'm... average, rich, but I'm not what you or the media call date material. I'm cold, daughter of the Mafia, and I'm a bitch. What is in this 'date' for you?"

He sits back, serious.

"You're beautiful, Jezika. Do not cut yourself short."
"I usually pose as a man, Bruce. I'm not beautiful."

"You are beautiful. Look at the men around us. They have been watching you since the door opened. You're graceful, smart, controlled, and a mystery. What man wouldn't like you?"

I sit back, locking any emotion away. My eyes flashed as I lock my eyes on his.

"Are you saying you asked me because I'm good looking?"

"No, Jezika. I asked you because you helped me. You went out of your comfort zone to try to help me when my friend died. You can say I call you a friend."

I sit back, relaxing. The waiter sets our food out. Bruce smiles at me as the waiter leaves.

"Besides, your turning 20 this week. I thought this would be nice."

I flash a smile. It was nice. The meal went by nicely. We left around two hours later.

The car pulls up to the curb as a girlish giggle escapes me. They were speaking of the Joker on the radio. It was a debate. Bruce had made a comment.

"What kind of man wears make up and prances around killing people? Mad man indeed."

My hand covered my mouth as I giggled. The doorman opens my door. I glance at the door to my building. Carlton stood there. I flash a soft smile at Bruce.

"It was a lovely evening, Bruce."

"Don't forget your promise."

"I won't. Goodnight, Bruce."

I close the door. An arm circles my waist and pulls me from the curb sharply. I do not stumble as I fall through the door to my building, making it look graceful. I pull away and march up to the lift.