Selina stared at the dog, and it stared right back, snarling and barking viciously at her. White had asked her to meet him down here, and it was probably because he wanted to get his dogs good and riled before their next fight, and Selina was the best woman for the job. All of White's dogs hated Selina for some reason unknown to either of them, and every time the dogs saw her, they went crazy. Selina did not care much for the animals either, so it was a fair trade, as far as she was concerned. She did not particularly want the affections of White's dumb animals, anyways.
Selina sneered at the dog and took a long drag of her cigarette, blowing out the smoke in the canine's face. "Fuck you, Fido," she said under her breath.
"His name is Duke," White corrected her, walking up behind her with a fresh Cuban cigar clenched between his teeth, "and he doesn't take kindly to second-hand smoke." He took the cigar from his mouth and let out a puff of smoke, himself. "But whatever works for you, doll face," he said with a shrug. "If that's the most creative way you can think of to get him worked up into a lather, then by all means. Smoke away."
Selina turned to look at White in half-disgust. "You asked me to meet you down here so I could rile up your dog, Warren?" she asked.
White shrugged. "You sound surprised, my dear," he said, putting the cigar back into his mouth. "You know you're the only one can get 'em all worked up like that." He looked at Duke, who was glaring at the two of them, snarling, and grinned. "Boo!" he said, kicking the mesh cage. Instantly the dog jumped up against the mesh and started trying to bite through it, barking viciously and slathering all over the cage. White laughed and indicated the dog. "You see?" he asked, looking over at Selina. "You're magic."
He puffed at his cigar for a long moment, and the two stood in silence, looking in at the brooding dog. Then Selina turned to White. "You know, you promised me you'd get me a date with Bruce Wayne if I got you that Joker freak," she reminded him, her cigarette smoking in her hand. "You gonna follow through on that?"
White took his cigar from his mouth and smirked. "Really?" he asked. "You think getting him over to my apartment is enough for me to hook you up with Bruce Wayne?" He looked over at her, incredulous. "Darlin', if I'd known I had to do as little as you did to get him to come over, I would've just done it myself." He shook his head, chuckling, and put the cigar back between his teeth. "Bruce Wayne," he said, almost mocking Selina.
Selina glared at him. "Oh, well, excuse me, Warren," she said, looking away from him. She took a drag of her cigarette and blew out the smoke slowly. "Next time, I'll let you have sex with him."
White paused, then turned to look at her. Selina turned to look at him as well. Then White looked away again, clearing his throat. "Bruce Wayne, you say?" he asked. He looked back at Selina. "He's got reservations for tonight at the Aquarius," he said, taking his cigar from his mouth and tapping the ashes onto the floor. "He's got a girl with him, though, so…"
"I'm hotter," Selina countered without even thinking. She looked over at White. "Book me a reservation."
"Already did," White replied, returning his cigar to his mouth. "Seven tonight. Don't be late." He looked at his watch and raised his eyebrows. "Almost four," he said. He looked back up at her. "You should start getting ready soon. Wouldn't want to miss out."
Selina smiled at him. "You're the best, Warren," she said. Then she looked back at the dog, stared at it for a long moment, and then tossed her cigarette at the cage. Then, with a turn of her heel, she was off to get ready for her date at the Aquarius.
. . .
Fox set his pen aside and read over the words he had written, then folded up the piece of paper and put it in his breast pocket with a heavy sigh. He had been going over what he would say in Jessica's eulogy for the last few days, and nothing he had come up with had sounded quite right. He had finally decided to say whatever came to mind when he stood to give the speech in remembrance of his sister; words from the heart were better than anything he could put down on paper.
He sighed, leaning back in his chair, and looked over at a framed photograph that sat on his desk. It was a picture of Fox and his sister at her graduation from medical school. He was hugging her tightly in her cap and gown, and she was holding her certification proudly for everyone to see. Fox smiled faintly and picked up the photograph, looking hard at it. He would ask for Jessica to be buried with this photograph, he decided. It would be symbolic of all the happy times they had together, and there was nothing more he wanted for her than to be happy, wherever she was now.
Jessica's funeral had been scheduled to fall on Monday, the strangest day for a funeral, but Fox supposed that, with the Joker running amok, they had to use any day possible for things like that – seeing as there were so many more deaths to deal with, so many more funerals that had to be planned and carried out. He frowned, thinking about it, suddenly wondering how many other murders had been committed since, and even before, Jessica's. He was lucky to have gotten a funeral date at all, he decided. The people in the funeral business were probably getting an economic boost from the Joker's homicidal streak. The thought made him shudder.
Fox set the photograph back down on his desk and folded his hands across his ribcage, staring at the picture. Then his gaze moved to the phone. It was really unfair of him, he thought, to cut off all communication from Bruce Wayne. It was not Wayne's fault that the Joker had managed to con his way into Wayne Manor and kill Jessica. The Joker had probably done it because he was thrilled by the challenge, not because Jessica was in any way special. At this, Fox frowned. Jessica was special, even if the Joker did not think so.
Then he paused. Even before the Joker had gone into Wayne Manor to kill Jessica, he had been looking for her. He had traced her to Gotham General and gotten her room number, so it was no surprise that he had somehow figured out that she had been moved to Wayne Manor – probably from the clueless people at Gotham General, trying to be as helpful as possible, not knowing that they were condemning an innocent woman to death. Fox picked up the photograph and stared at it again. Jessica's death had not really been Bruce Wayne's fault at all, he realized. If there was anyone to blame, it was Gotham General.
Fox set the photograph back down on the desk and picked up the telephone, dialing in the familiar number of Wayne Manor, and waited for someone to pick up.
. . .
Wayne pulled his Lamborghini up into the driveway of Wayne Manor and parked it, then got out, smoothing out the front of his suit and looking up towards the house. For some reason he could not quite place, the sight of Wayne Manor made him almost sad. Wayne stared at the large mansion for another long moment, trying to decide what exactly seemed to be the gloomy raincloud that hung over the head of the place, and then, unable to decide, he heaved a heavy sigh as he started up the stairs towards the front doors.
Not much had been going well for Wayne lately. Rachel had grown tired of waiting for him to give up his double-life of Batman and had left him for Harvey Dent, whom Wayne was almost certain was not the White Knight he appeared to be. Then he had fought and successfully captured the Joker, only to have the GCPD be outsmarted by the psychopath more times than he cared to count. Then there was the incident with Jessica… and Fox quitting WayneTech, which had directly affected Wayne Enterprises' sales. It killed Wayne to have to go into a partnership, especially with someone who considered him with as much contempt as Noah Sweets seemed to, but it was inevitable. If Wayne Enterprises were to suffer one more major blow while standing on its own, it might plunge into the depths of near bankruptcy.
The door opened for him, and Wayne stepped inside, shedding his coat and handing it off to Alfred. "I'm not sure if I can take much more of this," he admitted, turning to look mournfully at his butler as Alfred folded Wayne's coat over his arm. "All of this… high society nonsense. I might just go back to living on the streets in some foreign country."
"Well," said Alfred with a deep breath, "if you do, just be sure to leave the car keys."
Wayne smiled. "Always got something witty to say, don't you, Alfred?" he asked.
Alfred smiled back. "I do try, Sir," he said. Wayne nodded, then turned and started for his upstairs dressing-room. Alfred followed closely behind. "And how was your meeting with the Sweets siblings, Master Wayne?" Alfred asked, his eyebrows raised in interest.
"He hates me, Alfred," Wayne replied with a heavy breath. "And she… I'm not sure if she knows the stock market from the shoe market." He reached the top of the stairs and turned towards his dressing-room.
"Going somewhere special tonight, Sir?" asked Alfred, lingering behind.
"I've got a date with Jenna Sweet," Wayne replied, pulling off his shirt and tossing it aside onto the back of a nearby chair.
Alfred moved forward and picked up the shirt, folding it over his arm with Wayne's coat. "She's certainly a far stretch from Miss Dawes, Sir," he commented, "if you don't mind me saying."
"It's not an actual date, Alfred," Wayne told him, pulling open a drawer of his dresser and pulling out a crisp white dress shirt. "It's just for business." He held up the white shirt. "What do you think?" he asked. "Dressy enough?"
"Are you taking her to the opera, or to the drive-through?" Alfred asked.
Wayne raised his eyebrows. "Right," he said, tossing the shirt onto the back of the chair. He pulled out another shirt and held it up. "How about this one?" he asked.
"That one looks good," said Alfred, picking up the second discarded shirt with a nod.
Wayne nodded as well and slipped the shirt over his head, pulling it on, and then buttoned up the few last buttons that needed attending to. Alfred watched with a kind of patient observation. Then he looked up.
"Master Wayne," he said, "Mister Fox just called, not too long ago."
Wayne looked up in interest. "Fox?" he asked. "Fox called? What did he say?"
Alfred nodded. "Yes, Sir, he called," he said. "He asked if you would come to his sister's funeral tomorrow. He said it would mean the world to him if you would." Alfred let out a quiet, sad breath. "He says he knows it isn't your fault," he added. "And he also said he was sincerely sorry for saying it was."
Wayne stopped fiddling with his buttons, staring at Alfred. "I'll come," he said, nodding assuredly. He went back to fooling with his buttons. "Not only will I come," he said, "but I'll pay for the whole thing. No expense is too much." He held out a hand for his coat, and Alfred handed it to him. Wayne pulled his coat on over his dress shirt and buttoned it up. "Call the funeral home," he instructed Alfred. "Ask them to send the bill for Jessica's funeral to Wayne Enterprises." He smoothed out the front of his suit.
"How do I look?" he asked.
Alfred grinned at him. "Charming," he answered.
Wayne checked his Rolex. It was a little past five. Then he looked back up at Alfred. "Well, I've still got a little time," he said, smiling, suddenly feeling so much better about himself. "I'm going to go buy something that isn't for sale."
Alfred nodded, still smiling. "It's good to have you back, Sir," he said.
. . .
Wayne settled himself more comfortably into his seat at the table he had reserved at the Aquarius and picked up his wine glass, sipping at the cold water he had ordered while he waited for his date to arrive. He checked his Rolex. It was almost exactly seven o' clock. He was early, but that did not mean he should not be worried that his date would forget the time set for the dinner… or even that she was expected to arrive. Then again, he told himself with a sigh, she had not made much effort to arrive on time to their important business meeting, so there was no evidence that she should show up on time for this.
Wayne sighed and sipped at the cold water, then set it back down in front of him and picked up the menu. For him, this was not exactly an expensive place, but for the lesser elite, he was sure that going to someplace like this would be a rare occurrence. He scanned the tiny, curly font for something that looked good, but he was not really hungry. He was still thinking about earlier that day, when Alfred had told him that Fox had forgiven him. It was still fresh in his mind, and he was still glowing slightly from the effect of getting one of his best and oldest friends back.
Wayne set the menu down in front of him and folded his hands on top of it, thinking. If only tonight could go on without incident, it would be wonderful. If he could have a nice, quiet dinner with Jenna Sweets, perhaps get to know the girl a little better, and maybe even manage to get some of her brother's secretive plans for the company merge out of her – with the right sweet words and perhaps a little fine wine – without something going awry, it would be the best evening he had had in a long while. But the chances of that happening, especially in Gotham, with so many dangerous criminals on the loose, were slim to none.
Wayne let out a deep breath and picked up the menu again, scanning it. The least he could do was try to enjoy himself, for however short a time it lasted. He checked his Rolex again. He only hoped his date would arrive before trouble found him – which it had a way of doing at the most inopportune times.
Jenna smoothed down the ends of her fluttery summer dress. Maybe it was a bit inappropriate to be wearing a low-cut, short cocktail dress to a supposed business dinner (in the current weather, no less; forty degrees might be chilly for something so skimpy). If her brother knew, he'd probably disapprove.
She grinned and playfully cupped her newly-curled hair in one hand. Hell, if he knew anything about this dinner, he'd be more mad than a...a...
She frowned and put her hands on her hips, thinking hard for the right word. In the end, she gave up and trounced out of her room.
Noah glanced up from a packet of papers he'd been shuffling about aimlessly when she passed the dinner table. "Sheesh, you're finally dressed?" he said, standing slowly as he tucked the papers hurriedly back into their folder. He glared up at his sister. "Benjamin is nearly done with dinner..."
Jenna frowned. "What, Benjy didn't let you know?" She stared at her brother for a moment, then went to the walk-in closet near the door and began searching for some suitable shoes. Flats, definitely, since she had to drive to the restaurant herself and she didn't particularly feel like dying any time soon. "I'm eating out tonight. Got a date."
"Shocker." Noah made a face and sat once more, pulling the papers back out of the file now that he didn't have to attend to dinner. "Who is it this time, some supermodel? An actor? Can't be a politician; you'd bore him to de..." A soft snicker interrupted him. Jenna emerged from the closet clasping a pair of pastel pink flats in her hands. She bent over and pulled them on.
"It's a business friend, actually," she replied haughtily. Her brother thought he knew everything, did he? Well, she'd fix that nicely. "Bruce Wayne. Talked to him after that little meeting this morning." She ignored the look of absolute loathing and outrage on Noah's face as she pulled open one of the front double-doors. "Don't wait up for me." With a grin and a wink, she was gone, leaving Noah fuming.
She checked her watch a few minutes later as she screeched down the street in her Mini Cooper, eliciting a shriek of outrage and a few shouted profanities from her fellow drivers as she swerved in her lane. She righted the car at once, biting her lip. She was a bit late. But she could always play off fifteen minutes as being fashionable. She nodded to herself. It was Bruce freaking Wayne, for chrissakes. It's not like he cared, anyways.
So when she entered the Aquarius and spotted Wayne almost immediately, looking slightly irritated, she sat down with only a short, "Sorry; got caught by my brother," as an apology. A playful grin tugged at the edges of her lips as she nodded her thanks to the waiter who set a glass of water down in front of her. "Bad day?" she asked Wayne.
Wayne looked up from checking his watch for what he felt was the hundredth time when he heard the familiar, upbeat voice of his date. He stared at her for a moment, slightly dazed, and then fixed a friendly, understanding smile across his face. "That's all right," he said, getting up from his seat and pulling out a chair for her to sit in. "I haven't been waiting long." He pushed the seat back in slightly when she seated herself, then crossed back to his own chair and sat down, looking at her.
"Your brother?" asked Wayne with a smile. "Well, he can be rather… how should I put it… demanding." Then a short chuckle escaped his lips. "But you know that better than I do, I guess," he told her. He finished off the water in his wine glass and then looked around for a waiter. Finally he saw one and flagged him down. The waiter was only too happy to come over and bend to Wayne's level with a genteel smile.
"What can I get for you, Mister Wayne?"
"Uh, get me a bottle of your best wine, the oldest date you've got," Wayne said. "Tonight's a special occasion."
"Of course," said the waiter, and he turned away, back to the kitchen.
Wayne turned back to Jenna then with a proud smile. "So, tell me about yourself, Jenna," he said. "What kind of things do you like to do? Or… buy?" He chuckled. "Sometimes I forget that I'm dealing with someone who's in the same league as I am." He fidgeted, slightly awkward in the stilted conversation. "But this is just a friendly business dinner, isn't it?" He smiled at her, then looked away, somewhat impatient for the waiter to return. "Just a friendly business dinner," he repeated under his breath.
"Bruce?"
Wayne looked up at the familiar voice, eyes wide. Rachel was standing across the dining-hall from him, staring at him, wearing a dazzling navy dress. Wayne was speechless for a moment, then asked, "Rachel?"
Rachel moved across the dining-hall towards the two of them, still looking somewhat surprised. "What are you doing here, Bruce?" she asked.
"I'm… on a date," Wayne said, indicating Jenna. "Rachel, this is Jenna Sweets, from Sweets, Inc."
"Pleasure," said Rachel, nodding to Jenna, still a little dazed. Then she turned back to Wayne. "Well, I was just waiting on Harvey to come, we were going to get dinner here, too…"
"Oh, you should join us," said Wayne, getting up from his seat. He motioned for one of the waiters to come over and push the next table over together with the one he and Jenna were sitting at.
"I don't think you can do that, Bruce," Rachel said.
"Oh, I can," Wayne assured her. "I own the place." The waiter quickly came over, took hold of the next table and pulled the two of them together, then moved the chairs over so that the now-larger table sat four people. Rachel looked on in slightly astonished horror, but Wayne grinned at her and indicated for her to take a seat. "Go on," he said. "Talk to us while you wait for Harvey."
"I, um…" Rachel began.
"Wayne?"
Wayne looked up, and a cold grin split his face when he saw Dent standing behind Rachel. "Harvey," he said. "Rachel was just saying how much she wanted the two of you to sit with the two of us."
Dent stared at Wayne, confused, then looked over at Rachel. Rachel shook her head, stunned, and shrugged, her mouth slightly open in wordless bewilderment. Then Dent looked back at Wayne and nodded. "O-okay," he said with a shrug. "We can do that." He started to move to pull out a chair for Rachel, but Wayne stood first and pulled the chair out, letting Rachel take her seat. He offered a smug, cold smile to Dent, and Dent hesitated before returning a baffled half-smile. Then Dent took his own seat across from Rachel, looking very out-of-place.
"What's good here?" Wayne asked, too enthused, picking up his menu and looking over it. "You know, the lobster looks good. I've never had the lobster here… I think I'll try it." He glanced over at Rachel. "Have you ever tried the lobster here?"
"Bruce, what are you doing?" Rachel hissed.
"Just enjoying myself on my date," Wayne answered. He turned to Jenna, taking her hand in his, and smiled at her. "It's a shame, Rachel, that you and Harvey aren't having as good a time as Jenna and I are."
Dent and Rachel exchanged bewildered looks. Then Dent turned to Jenna with an awkward smile. "So, uh… Jenna," he said, hoping he got her name right. "What do you think of, uh… Batman?"
"Batman? He's a nut!" Wayne answered before Jenna could. "A man who goes around in a bat suit clearly has problems."
"I believe I was asking your date," Dent said, somewhat coldly. He and Wayne stared at each other for a long moment. Then Wayne shrugged and turned to Jenna with a smile.
"Yes, dear," he said, taking her hand again. "Do give us some insight on your views on the Bat."
Well, now Jenna had to decide whether she'd be able to forgive Bruce. Not only had he blatantly ignored her for another woman (one he used to date, no less!), but, worst of all (of course), he was insulting the Batman. She looked away at his snide comment about the city's self-appointed hero. She could forgive the flirting; after all, that was just politics in the great game of the social hierarchy. But Batman...
She frowned darkly and glanced down at the menu, offering Harvey and Rachel a tight smile when they sat down. Batman was no psycho. He was a hero, one of the few this town had left. She drew her hand away from Wayne's and replaced her icy look with a light grin. "Oh, Bats?" she said, flapping her hand a bit as if the two were old friends. "He's a doll for trying to help out the city like he has been. And I don't think he's insane. He's too..." She paused, putting one finger on her lower lip, thinking. "Charismatic," she finally settled upon, totally ignorant of how silly it might make her sound, "for something like that."
Fortunately for her, the waiter returned with the wine at that moment, leaving her to smile at him with a nod as he filled up her glass. "You know, Mr. Dent..." She took a sip of wine, purposefully drawing out her comment. "I'm surprised you're not insanely jealous of the man. Seems like you two are in competition for the position of the city's savior." She grinned. "Harvey Dent, White Knight of Gotham's legal system, defender of justice..." Her head tilted to the side. "And Batman, the dark avenger." She giggled at the nickname. "The bane of dark alleys, the mysterious vigilante whose identity we're all dying to know."
She broke off, not wanting to sound too interested. "But what do I know? I barely keep up with all the criminal goings-on in this city, anyways. I'd suppose you're pretty up-to-date on them, Miss Dawes?" She smiled at Rachel. Bookish, businesslike, boring: the three words Jenna would use to describe the woman. Not her style at all.
"Charismatic?" said Wayne with a laugh. "Really?" He turned back to look at Dent and Rachel. "'Cause I think he's nuts."
"So you've told us," said Dent slowly, picking up his utensils and turning them over in his hands. Wayne was obviously trying his already-worn-down patience, and he was trying his hardest to keep from exploding at him. He looked over at Rachel, who looked uncomfortable and awkward, and dropped his knife, putting his hand across the table to rest on her arm. Rachel looked up, surprised, and Dent smiled at her. "You doin' okay?" he asked.
Rachel hesitated, then smiled back. "Yeah," she said, nodding and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm doing fine. Just a little… flustered, is all."
Dent smiled understandingly at her. Then he turned back to Jenna, listening to her inquiry. "Well, I'm not a jealous man, Miss Sweets," he said with his signature politician's smile. "I do what I do, and… Batman does what he does." He glanced at Wayne, as if daring him to cut into his statement, then back at Jenna. "Of course I respect what Batman does," he added quickly. "I mean, who doesn't?"
Wayne raised his hand, sniffing slightly. Dent glared at him for a moment. Then Wayne looked up at him, lowering his hand. "Batman goes around beating up the bad guys," he said. "But he also destroys property and doesn't follow the simple laws laid down by the city – laid down by you, Harvey." He folded his hands in front of him, staring hard at Dent. "Of course, it's easy to admire and respect someone when you look at all the good they do," he said, "but it's also easy to overlook the bad."
"So you would rather we let the city fall prey to the hands of murderers and thieves, rather than entrust it to someone who would use – admittedly – unorthodox methods to keep it safe?" Dent asked, leaning forward to better get his point across. "You would rather we let men like the Joker run free with no fear of capture or punishment for their deeds?"
"And where exactly are the police in all of this?" Wayne asked, testy. "Have they fallen off the face of the earth? I mean, what does the city pay them for, if not to catch and punish criminals?"
"The GPD does all it can, but sometimes it needs the extra help," Dent said, intent, starting to get angry. "Can you blame them if they take the help of someone who cares about this city as much as they do?"
"Oh, so now the GPD is admitting to taking help from Batman?" Wayne asked coldly. "Because from what I remember, they were denying it at every turn. Have they changed their story now?"
"Listen, Wayne," said Dent, pointing at him, "Batman is a good man, a lot better than you could ever hope to be, and he's done a lot more for this city than you've ever done –"
"I think Batman is a good man," Rachel cut over him. She looked back at Jenna. "And there have been a few fringe cases involving the convicts that escaped from Arkham, and a few cases where the Joker's name has come up… but nothing important." She offered an uncomfortable, reassuring smile. "But that's the way it is, in the law business… a lot of legal work, and not a lot of excitement."
"Oh, there's plenty of excitement in my life," said Dent, turning back to Rachel. He took her hand in his and began to stroke it gently, smiling at her, starting to calm down. Rachel turned back to him with a confused smile. He grinned at her, then raised his eyebrows. Rachel opened her mouth in slight shock, then slapped his hand gently.
"Stop that!" she said quietly. "Not in front of Bruce and his date!"
"Oh, it's okay, Rachel," said Wayne, picking up his wine glass. "I've got plenty of excitement in my life, too." He raised his eyebrows at Jenna, toasted her, then took a long drink of wine. Then he set the glass down in front of him and let out a satisfied sigh. "Now that is good stuff," he said, shaking his head.
"Collateral damage." Jenna just had to put in her own two cents, especially when it concerned Batsy. "We can nitpick all of the buildings and cars and whatever the guy's destroyed, but in the end, what's the net gain? We've got more criminals than ever in jail, and even more running scared." She shrugged and laced her hands together on the table. "I know I'd be willing to look past his silly outfit. What's necessary, is necessary."
She took another drink of her own wine before thinking to apologize. "Sorry, Bruce, I've got to take Mr. Dent's side on this one," she said with a smile and a shrug. That was all she'd say about the matter; he was forgiven, for now. After all, he had such a cute face.
She nodded along with Bruce, checking the clock on the wall nearby and then wondering why. She wasn't bored, was she? Politics had never been her thing, true, but she was at a table with the two most sought-after men in all of Gotham (and one of their dates; she nearly rolled her eyes at that). Yet, somehow, she found herself almost wishing that something would happen elsewhere in the city. It would give her an excuse to abandon her date.
Wayne turned to Jenna, slightly taken aback. He had no idea that Jenna was such a fan of Batman, or he would not have verbally attacked him quite so severely. He opened his mouth to say something when suddenly he was cut off by, "Bruce Wayne? Is that really the famous Bruce Wayne?" Wayne frowned at the unfamiliar voice and turned to see a curvy blonde making her way across the dining hall towards him, her slinky black dress slit up to her thigh, her high-arched feet delicate but sure in her glittering black heels. He smiled, confused, but still trying to seem as amiable as possible.
"That would be me," he said, turning to face her as she approached the table. "Can I help you?"
"Oh my god," she said, tossing one hand in the air in dramatic surprise. "I never thought I'd see the day when I would meet Bruce Wayne in the flesh." She put the hand to her supple chest, her silvery laughter fake and flirty. "I'm Selina," she said, holding out her hand to him. "Selina Kyle."
"It's, um... It's a pleasure, Miss Kyle," said Wayne, taking the hand delicately and giving it a slight squeeze.
"Oh!" said Selina, retrieving her hand as if embarrassed and laughing falsely again. "Call me Selina." She stared at the table, then around at the other people who were sitting with Wayne. "You seem to be having a party over here, Bruce," she said.
"Um, I prefer Mister Wayne, if you don't mind," said Wayne, seeming uncomfortable. He shot Jenna an apologetic, trapped look, then returned his gaze to Selina.
Selina ignored him, instead pointing to an empty spot at the end of the table. "Do you mind if I join you?" she asked.
"Um..." Wayne began to say, but again he was cut off.
"Sure!" said Dent, smiling at Selina. "Go ahead, pull up a seat. The more, the merrier, we always say. Don't we, Bruce?" He shot a smug grin to Wayne, who looked back at him, helpless.
"Uh, of course," he said, looking back at Selina. "We love, um... company." He half-indicated a nearby chair. "Go ahead and... join us," he said, his voice trailing off.
"Don't mind if I do," Selina said. She waved over one of the waiters, then pointed to the chair. The waiter moved the chair to the end of the table where Wayne sat, and then pulled it out for Selina to take a seat, which she did. Selina leaned on her elbows on the table, looking over at Wayne and batting her eyelashes flirtatiously. "So, Bruce," she said, emphasizing his name, "what in the world is a classy man like you doing in a place like this?"
"Oh, I think this place is plenty classy," Wayne replied. "In fact, that's why I bought it."
Selina giggled flirtatiously and slapped him lightly on the hand. "Oh, stop it, you tease," she said. She leaned forward towards him, accentuating her cleavage. Wayne glanced down at it, then turned his eyes away, looking uncomfortable. "You know, I've heard all about you," she said. "About Wayne Enterprises... about how much of a playboy you are, with... all that money..." She leaned towards him further. "What do you do with all that money, Bruce?" she asked in a low tone. "You must be saving it for... something special."
"We were just discussing Batman, Miss Kyle," Rachel jumped in, looking more than a little put off by Selina's antics. "Would you care to share some of your views on him?"
"I think the man's a nut," said Wayne, putting a hand to his chest, glad to have something to distract him from the uncomfortable innuendos that Selina was making. "Everyone at the table disagrees with me, though."
"It's because you're wrong," said Dent. "Batman is a good person."
"You're a good person," Bruce specified. "Batman is a vigilante. He just does what he does to show off. He doesn't really care about Gotham, he just likes to run around in a bat suit to prove something to himself."
"Oh, I agree with you, Bruce," said Selina, nodding. She turned back to Dent with a smirk. "Batman's nothing more than a jerk with a thing for dressing up." She laughed. "He was probably the kid who got beat up on the playground for his lunch money, and now he's going around beating up everyone who bullied him as a kid."
Wayne laughed at this, too, though his laughter sounded uncomfortable. "I like you," he said, nodding to Selina.
"I like you, too, Bruce," she said, turning back to him with a smile.
His laughter subsided, and he cleared his throat. Then he picked up the menu and looked at it again. "I'm thinking of getting the lobster," he told Selina. "Have you tried...?" His voice trailed off as he looked over and saw her taking a sip of wine out of his glass.
"Cheap stuff," she said, making a face as she set down the glass. Then she shook her head. "Don't get the lobster, it's terrible. Full of grease and trans fats... nasty stuff." She took the menu, making sure to touch his hand in the process. "Get the goose foie gras," she said, pointing to it.
Wayne turned in his seat and flagged down one of the waiters. "I'm ready to order," he told him. "Anyone else ready to order?" He turned to his date. "Jenna?" he asked.
Selina picked up the menu again and scanned it, then turned back to the waiter. "I'll have the escargot," she said, raising her eyebrows. "Not too heavy... I'm trying to keep my weight down." She laughed, hollow and fake, and set down her menu, leaning forward to emphasize her cleavage, and tucked a fallen lock of blonde hair behind her ear. Then she turned and looked at Jenna, and her smile faded into a disdainful sneer.
"Oh," she said, looking Jenna up and down. "You must be Bruce's date." She offered a cold, condescending smile, then turned back to Wayne and put her hand on his arm. "Can you get some Vin de paille to go with the food? It would be a lot better than this stuff." She indicated the wine glass disparagingly.
Rachel stared at Selina, her mouth all but hanging open in disbelief, then turned to look at Dent. Dent was staring at Selina in almost the same kind of shock. Then he turned to look at Rachel. The two stared at one another in disbelief, then turned back to look at Selina in morbid fascination. Watching her was like watching a train wreck; it was hard to watch, but it was impossible to look away.
Wayne smiled patiently at Selina, then nodded. "Sure," he said, turning back to the waiter. "Bring us a bottle of that." Then he turned back to Jenna. "And what do you want, Jenna?" he asked.
"So I've heard all about you, Harvey Dent," said Selina, leaning forward even more towards Dent. "Your picture is all over the place." She smiled at him, leaning on her elbow with her chin in her hand. "You're apparently the White Knight of Gotham," she said. "All the women want you."
Dent laughed, uncomfortable. "Well, I don't know about the last one," he said, "but yes, I've been called the White Knight before. I think it's rather flattering... I just do what I can for the good of Gotham." He turned to Jenna, then. "Jenna, what are you going to order?" he asked, picking up his own menu. "I think the steak looks good."
"Steak is full of fat," said Selina, wrinkling up her nose. She turned to Rachel. "You know that, I'm sure. Look at that figure... flawless. I bet you don't get a lot of appreciation for that in a law office, though, huh?"
"I... get enough," said Rachel with a smile. She and Dent exchanged glances, and she could see that he was smiling, too.
"Enough? Please." Selina played with her hair. "You and I have got to go on a shopping trip one of these days, get you some more flattering clothes. You look so... conservative in that." She giggled. "You should live a little, girl."
"Oh..." Rachel looked down at her dress, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. It was the least conventional thing she owned, as she had wanted to look sexy for Harvey, but now she felt very prudish. She glanced down at her own conservative, fully-covered bust, and suddenly felt very self-conscious. She tried to pull down the cut of her dress a little without anyone noticing, and she could feel a slight blush rising to her cheeks.
Then Selina turned back to Wayne, smiling at him. "You haven't ordered," she reminded him.
Wayne looked at her. "I'm waiting for Jenna to order," he reminded her.
"Oh," said Selina, unimpressed. She turned back to Jenna and stared at her for a long moment. "You should order quickly, honey," she said. "You're holding up the program."
Oh, hell no.
Jenna simply stared at the newcomer for the first minute or so of her obnoxious, flirtatious monologue, then she looked incredulously at Bruce. He was playing along, the bastard. She couldn't reasonably blame this on Wayne, however; it was Kyle who had so rudely inserted herself right in the middle of where she wasn't fucking wanted. And, to add icing to the cake, she was insulting Batman.
There were a few clear goals for this dinner date. Jenna had needed to get out into the public eye; it had been far too long since she'd gotten good coverage in the local gossip tabloids. She needed to get the hell away from Noah, whose protectiveness was beginning to get on her nerves again. And, of course, she had gone on this dinner date to get to know Bruce Wayne a little better, maybe even more intimately.
And Jenna Sweets always got exactly what she wanted.
The waiter appeared at her elbow just as she opened her mouth to order, and she blinked up in surprise for a moment before settling herself. "Braised veal cheek penne, if you would," she said, tone commanding. She shot an icy smile towards Selina. "It's so good that you're watching your figure. Admirable, really." She looked at Bruce, eyes shooting daggers. "Isn't it? Nice to meet a girl who knows what she needs."
The completely unveiled insult was out-of-character for her. Truth to be told, Kyle's blatantly rude attitude had set Jenna off-balance. She was much more used to people rolling over like dogs whenever she snapped her fingers; meeting someone who didn't was a bit of a shock. She grit her teeth. Oh, if only she could pound that woman into a pulp...
The thought made her pause, then sit up straighter like a peacock ruffling her disturbed feathers. Violence. Definitely out-of-character. She wasn't on the streets, she reminded herself, smoothing out the lap of her dress and placing her hand casually on the table in the range of Wayne's (if he was any sort of smart, he'd take the bait).
Then she spared a glance for Rachel, who looked obviously uncomfortable. An interesting thought popped into Jenna's head. Maybe Rachel was smart enough to know when to join forces against a common enemy - or annoyance, at least, judging by the expression on the woman's face. So she locked her steel gaze on the woman and grinned. "Well, Selina," she began, glancing at Kyle, "Miss Dawes here is a highly respected lawyer - all over the paper all the time, I've seen her just everywhere - and I'm co-owner of Sweets, Inc. But what is it that you do?" She sculpted a blond strand of hair behind her ear. "I don't remembering hearing your name much."
"I..." Selina looked surprised at Jenna's sudden counter-attack, then quickly regained her composure. "Well, I take it you don't read the paper very much," she said, shrugging, "but I'm actually very well-known in some of the... less reputable circles."
"I thought prostitution was illegal in Gotham?" Rachel put in, sounding completely honest in her statement. She looked over at Harvey, who was looking impressed at her straightforwardness and trying his hardest not to laugh at her statement. "Or am I remembering incorrectly?"
"Oh, it is," said Harvey, clearing his throat and picking up his glass of water, taking a sip of it to try and hide his growing smile.
"That's not what I meant," laughed Selina, clearly annoyed. She put a delicate hand to her chest. "I used to date Warren White, the crime lord. As I said, I was pretty well-known in the... less reputable circles of Gotham. But..." She looked back at Wayne. "I'm over that lifestyle. It just wasn't for me. All that dirty business..." She put on a somewhat pouty expression. "I couldn't stand it. I wanted out of there. I wanted a fresh breath of air."
"Then I suggest you take a vacation to the Bahamas," said Dent, smiling at her. "There's no fresh air to be found in Gotham."
"He's teasing," Wayne assured Selina. He turned to the waiter. "I'll have the goose foie gras," he said. "That sounds good." Then he looked over at Jenna, down at the hand she was offering him. He looked back up at her, knowing. She was jealous of Selina. Well, she had every right to be; the woman had not been invited, and she had been unexplainably rude to Jenna. Then again, she probably thought of Wayne as the kind of man who liked a little female competition.
Wayne frowned slightly at the thought, then glanced over at Rachel. Taking Jenna's hand would be a blatant burn to Rachel, as well. But, he told himself, it would be good for business... the back-and-forth was tearing him apart. Finally, he reached across the table and took Jenna's hand in his, smiling at her. "Are you having a good evening, so far?" he asked. He did not have to look at Selina to know that she looked disgusted.
Selina pulled her purse up and dug around until she found her cell phone, and checked the time on it. Almost eight, and she still had not gotten into Wayne's pants – or pocketbook. She sighed, putting the phone back into her purse, and smiled apologetically at the table at large. "Sorry," she said, snapping her purse closed again. "Just checking to see if I missed any calls..." She shrugged. "Nobody's called me in the past forty-five minutes, though," she said with a slightly uncomfortable laugh. "Guess everyone's busy."
"Or no one wants to talk to you," said Rachel in a low tone, looking away and tucking a lock of dark hair behind her ear.
Selina smiled in slight disbelief at the statement. "I'm sensing a slight resentment in your tone, Miss Dawes," she said.
Rachel looked up, seemingly in surprise. "What?" she asked. "I didn't say anything."
"Oh, but you did, Miss Dawes," said Selina, her tone cold.
"You know, I think I'm going to have the steak," said Dent. He smiled over at the table at large. "I'm a man," he said, playfully showing off what would have been muscles if they had not been covered by a stylish suit. "I need red meat in my diet. And I don't have to worry about my waistline."
"Just don't swell up like a balloon," said Rachel, giggling.
"Why not?" asked Dent. "There'd be more Harvey to love."
Rachel raised her eyebrows, looking away with a giggle. "I want to be able to find everything on you, Harvey," she said. "I don't know if I'd be able to if you were... you know."
"Was that a dig at my...?" Harvey stared at her in playful disbelief. "Rachel," he said. "You know better than anyone that it's not that small."
"I just love Gotham in the Fall, don't you?" Wayne cut over them, too loudly. "It's the prettiest time of year. All the trees start turning... colours." He cleared his throat. "Or they would," he said, his voice slowly going down in volume. "If there were any... trees..."
He glanced over at Dent and Rachel, who looked a little taken aback, then looked away again. "Where is that waiter?" he asked. "He's taking his sweet time with that wine."
Jenna's eyebrows shot up at the mention of crime. She hated everything about this woman and her oppressive mannerisms, true; something about her reminded Jenna of her dear brother. There was an ever-so-slight chance this woman had somehow come in contact with Batman, though. That was enough to set aside their, ah, slight differences for the moment, and lean forward with thinly-veiled interest.
"It's a good thing you got out of that, dear," she assured the woman, nodding almost politely. "But you mentioned Warren White. He's one of the bigger players, isn't he?" She toyed around with the question in her mind for a moment, then gave up on diplomacy. "Ever have any run-ins with the great Batman?"
She glanced down at Bruce's hand on hers, and smiled at him, both pleased and smug. "Of course," she replied. Lies, lies, lies... She really didn't want to be here. Odd, how things had turned awry so quickly just because of Kyle's arrival. She glared again at the woman. Connections to Batman or not, she was still an absolute bitch.
"Batman?" Selina laughed. "Batman wouldn't dare show his face around Warren White. I think he's scared." She leaned towards Jenna slightly. "And between you and me, I'd say he has good reason to be," she said in what would have been a low voice, had she been trying to keep her voice low for anyone's consideration.
"I'm sure Batman isn't scared of someone like Warren White," Wayne scoffed, grinning incredulously.
"Of course he isn't," Dent cut in. "He's the goddamn Batman."
Selina leaned back in her chair, still watching Jenna closely. "Warren is a scary, scary man," she said. "I wouldn't be surprised if Batman was too frightened of Warren to show up around Warren's place, because he hasn't been seen."
"Warren's place?" asked Wayne, frowning slightly at Selina but keeping a good-natured, intrigued smile on his face. "What place is this?"
"Oh, Warren has a casino," said Selina. "In the Narrows. It's not exactly hidden, really... I'm surprised you can't see its lights from some of the taller buildings here in downtown Gotham." She shrugged. "Technically, it's not illegal," she said, picking up Wayne's wine glass and swirling the wine around in it, "so there's nothing the court system can do about it." She smirked over at Rachel. "Though they've tried," she said coldly.
"I remember that case," Dent put in, nodding. "White versus City of Gotham... that was a major blow to the DA's office."
"That was the follow-up to the murder case," Rachel said, pointing at Dent. "They tried to pin the murder on him, and from there it led to the casino, and money laundering..."
"But none of it could be tied to him because the evidence all had something wrong with it, and the jury voted him Not Guilty," Dent said, completing her statement. "Right, I remember being insanely frustrated on that one. That was a bitch of a case."
"So you were the Opposition, Mister Dent?" asked Selina, trying to sound intelligent with her legal talk.
"Harvey was the Defendant's lawyer," said Rachel. "It was the City of Gotham that brought the law suit down on Warren White, not the other way around."
Selina stared at her blankly for a moment, then said in an unimpressed tone of voice, "Of course it was." Then she turned to Wayne, putting a hand on his arm. "I'm going to go powder my nose for a moment... I'll be right back." She winked at him. "Don't wait up," she said. She pushed her chair back, standing from the table, and with one last seductive look at Wayne, she turned and walked off.
Wayne looked after her, then looked back at Jenna, confused. Then he frowned as he felt his cell phone start to vibrate in his pocket. He looked down, letting go of Jenna's hand as he reached down into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, checking the Caller ID. It was the number of the phone he had installed in the Batcave, which he had told Alfred to call him on should the Batman symbol appear in the sky while he was otherwise busy. He looked up at his dinner company and offered a polite smile to them.
"I'm sorry," he said, getting up from his chair, "it's Alfred... he's probably spilled something... broken something... caught something on fire..." He shrugged, pushing his chair back in and laughing uncomfortably. "I am so sorry, Jenna," he said, turning to the young woman. "Maybe we can do this another time... when I've got a little less havoc to deal with? Maybe even earlier in the day? Lunch, or something...?"
Wayne cleared his throat, then nodded to them. "Well, I have to go," he said, and turned away from them, walking away.
Rachel watched him for a moment, then turned back to Jenna. "He does that a lot," she said, shrugging. "You know Bruce... always busy." She glanced over at Harvey, who was looking confused and sceptical, then picked up her glass of water and took an uncomfortable sip.
Wayne burst out of the restaurant and started for his Lamborghini when he was stopped short in his tracks by a voice coming from somewhere to his immediate left.
"I thought you'd come."
Wayne turned in time to see Selina step forward and wrap her arms around his neck, pressing her body into his in a seductive melt, smiling sensually up at him. "You know you're too good for her," Selina purred, resting her head on Wayne's chest. "That's why you followed me out here, so we could be alone."
"Actually..." Wayne did not know what to say to this straightforward woman. He had never met a woman quite as determined to get together with him, and her approach was a little daunting. He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I was just on my way home..."
"Oh," said Selina, sounding delighted, looking up at him again and raising her eyebrows. "Going home all alone, are we, Bruce?" She traced a lacquered fingernail down the front of his suit. "Won't you get lonely all by yourself, up in that great big house of yours?" She looked up at him. "Don't you want some... company?"
"Actually," said Wayne, trying to detach himself from Selina, "I've got company. My butler, Alfred, lives with me, and –"
"You butler?" Selina cut over him. "Sure, he's good company and all, but he can't give you what you need." She rubbed up against him, tracing his jaw with one of her fingernails. "I've seen you around, Bruce," she told him. "I know what a guy like you really wants... and it isn't some underfed hussy like her." She wrapped her arms around his neck again, looking up into his face. "You need a real woman," she told him.
Wayne raised his eyebrows, then detached himself from Selina. "I'll keep that in mind," he said, starting to walk away again.
"Wait, Bruce!" Selina said, catching his arm again. Wayne turned back to her, annoyed, and she slipped a folded piece of paper into his pocket. "Call me," she said. "You know, if you're ever... lonely." She smiled seductively, then winked at him. Then she turned and walked away, back into the restaurant.
Wayne watched her leave, then shook his head. She was really something else again. Then he looked up into the sky, where he could clearly see the Batman symbol shining against the cloudy overcast of the Gotham night sky. He checked his watch, then headed towards his Lamborghini again, hoping that whatever it was that he had been called to do, it was worth all of this frustration.
Jenna scowled and sat back in her seat. Kyle was trying to bait her again. She wasn't that stupid. She kept her mouth shut this time, shrugging and nodding along with the banter. Of course Batman wasn't scared of white; he was, as Harvey so eloquently said, the goddamn Batman, after all. She did wonder why he hadn't showed up at White's place yet, though.
Maybe, she thought with sudden glee, she could scope the place out for herself, then alert Bats to the problem, and they could work tag-team to take White down. It was just the sort of thing that would get her in Bats' good books, for sure.
Her daydreaming was interrupted when Wayne got up from the table. She stared at his pathetic excuses and looked away with a refined shrug, taking her wine glass again. Of course it ended this way. He wasn't interested; no matter what Rachel said, it was as simple as that. She immediately discarded the thought. Fine, then. His loss.
The glass nearly dropped out of her hand when, unexpectedly, her own phone vibrated in her purse. She pulled it out, barely aware of the couple still seated with her. She glanced up with an apologetic smile, muttering something about "having to take this", then moved a ways away from the table, tucking herself into a niche against a pillar.
"Jenna, the Batman signal went up a few minutes ago." Jenna's eyebrows shot up. Benny was being serious; she could tell by his tone, and he didn't waste any time with the normal niceties - no Misses, or Ma'ams. Besides, her butler wouldn't play this sort of practical joke on her.
She began moving back to the table immediately. "Thanks, Ben. Could you get my things ready?" she asked. He replied with a curt affirmation, and they hung up simultaneously just as Jenna reached the table. She smiled at Harvey and Rachel. "Sorry, it seems like I've got trouble at home, too," she offered by way of explanation. She picked up her purse from the table and tucked her phone back inside, bringing out her keys. "We'll just have to do this again sometime. It was buckets of fun." She smiled grimly, then turned and left the restaurant.
On the way out, she passed Kyle. The sight made her pause. That woman looked far too pleased with herself to have been doing anything innocent. And hadn't she said she was going to the restroom to freshen up? Jenna frowned distastefully, having half a mind to slap her then and there for her rude behavior. She ignored the instinct, thought, and left without a word to the other woman.
Some other day, she promised herself. Some day when there weren't Batman matters to be attended to.
