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Hey, someone I know is in the hospital right now and isn't doing too hot, it isn't Covid, but it could be worse. So, if you don't hear from me for a while, that's probably why. I don't own any of this. Please leave a review. Merry Christmas! Christ is Born! Enjoy.

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It was a good thing Diana had left the car early because Circe was waiting on the steps to Wayne Manor when Alfred and Bruce pulled up. Bruce took a deep breath, resumed his playboy demeanor, and strode out of the car toward Circe with confidence and conviction.

"Let's have a drink, I have the finest liquor in this whole city."

Circe nodded and followed him inside. The drawing room had a fully stocked bar for situations just like these. Alfred slipped behind the counter and threw a towel over his arm, immediately assuming the role of bartender.

"Well, he certainly makes himself useful." Circe laughed and gestured toward Alfred. "Oh how I miss my royal servants."

Bruce smiled through gritted teeth. "Alfred, has served my family since before I was born. He has learned a few skills in that time. I'll have some bourbon, Alfred. What would you like, Circe?"

"Do you have any ouzo?"

"One moment, ma'am." Alfred gave a slight bow and left the room, the more obscure drinks were kept in the cellar.

"As much as I hate to say it, business first. Otherwise, I'm likely to forget. You don't look like the kind of woman that would allow me to remember anything but you." Bruce looked directly into Circe's eyes.

Circe blushed ever so slightly and leaned forward letting as much cleavage show as possible. Her face was inches from his, her breath teasing an impending kiss. She cupped his face in one of her hands.

"Now I wouldn't be a very good guest if I didn't do just that, now would I?" She turned her head and kissed him on the cheek before leaning back in her chair as Alfred walked back into the room.

Bruce just gave a smoldering smile to conceal his stomach turning inside him. "So, business…"

"Yes, of course." Circe said and grabbed her recently poured glass of ouzo.

Alfred pulled a quick sleight-of-hand while Circe was taking her first sip. He switched out the bourbon bottle with another identical one that had only colored water inside. He then poured Bruce's drink and slid it over to him.

"I need to know why I wasn't the first one to hear your incredible voice. I mean, I could have booked you for a whole weekend at the opera house or gotten you somewhere even bigger. So who beat me to it?"

"Really? Well, I think I'll have to keep in touch with you if you have those sorts of connections. If you must know it was a man named Oswald Cobblepot, we came to a deal."

"Oh, I know Cobblepot. He is constantly trying to show me up in this city. Not being the richest man in Gotham doesn't seem to sit right with him. Well, I'll just have to get that bastard back by stealing you."

"Mr. Wayne, you can have me anytime you like." She punctuated this statement by slowly sucking the finger she had used to stir her drink a moment earlier.

Bruce adjusted his tie, cleared his throat, and downed the rest of his drink; all for effect. To his surprise, Circe followed suit and held out her empty glass for Alfred to pour more into. Alfred poured them both new glasses and immediately retreated from the room, leaving the bottles out. As soon as Alfred left, Circe began to touch Bruce's body an uncomfortable amount. Chest, shoulders, face, repeat.

"So, how did Cobblepot find you?" Bruce was hoping that between the alcohol, her obvious arousal, and the 'truth serum' Alfred had just slipped in her drink, Circe would be loose-lipped enough to start spilling secrets.

She leaned back in her seat, "Let me ask you this, Bruce." She squinted. "How do you feel about ladies of the night?"

He was startled by this question, but pressed onward. "I've had my fair share. Why? Don't tell me you-"

"Hades! No! But I am well-known for my ability to turn people into animals and for my ability to create hybrids. Well, in today's world of sexual freedom this ability has a rather niche market among those who have more, let's say, animalistic urges. Cobblepot happens to be one of these people who also has enough money to pay me and the girls. He has a thing for birds." She winked at Bruce. Her speech was becoming more and more slurred as she spoke.

Now knowing way more than he wanted to about how the Penguin spent his free time, and being even more disgusted with who his current company was, Bruce let his jaw drop. "Okaay, so I assume you gave him a discount in exchange for a night at the opera?"

"Noo, that's just how I met him, or rather, how he found me. No, the whole time we were working out how much his playtime was going to cost him he was complaining about Batman. The man has an unhealthy obsession, surprised he didn't ask for bat-girls. Anyway, I let slip that I knew something about Batman that he didn't. Immediately he promised me anything in the world for that information. I told him all I ever wanted was to be a famous singer. He made a call and suddenly I had a gig at Gotham Opera House, so I gave him some info on Batman."

"Wow, you know something about Batman?" Bruce looked at her in faux amazement. Inside he was terrified, he needed to know if she had told Cobblepot about his performance at Mykonos.

Circe rolled her eyes. "Honestly, your whole city. I mean yeah, the guy looks like Achilles, but come on. I'll only tell you what I told him: 'If you want Batman out of Gotham, all you have to do is start a problem only he can solve in Gateway City.'"

Bruce did not know whether to panic or relax. He could only hope that Cobblepot had not figured out what Circe actually knew from what she had told him.

"I'll have someone draw up a contract in the morning. Let's toast to our business concluded and head upstairs." He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her hips close as he refilled her glass and slipped a knockout drug into it.

They both said cheers and then started toward the stairs. Circe broke away from his arms and climbed the stairs just enough in front of him that her butt was swaying back and forth in front of his face. She proceeded to neatly slip off her dress and throw it back at him. To Bruce's relief she was wearing undergarments and passed out on the steps before she had a chance to remove those. He was about to pick her up and carry her to his bedroom when Diana appeared from nowhere.

"I'll take care of this, thank you very much." She abruptly took the dress out of Bruce's hands and slung Circe over one shoulder.

"Did you do everything I told you to?" Bruce asked Diana as she joined him and Alfred for tea in the kitchen.

"Yes, if I woke up in that room, I'd be convinced I did something terrible too. I saw bruises starting to form from where she fell, so I made it look like things got a bit out of hand too."

"Good. I assume you were monitoring things from the Batcave?"

"Yeah, thanks for turning off the security for me."

"I added you to the whitelist, Ms. Diana. You should be able to get in and out from now on. I had to add Mr. Kent as well, Master Bruce seems to have forgotten how." There was no trace of sarcasm in Alfred's voice, but it was not necessary to convey the sarcasm itself.

"Thank you, Alfred." Diana raised her cup of tea to the butler. "I'm exhausted, so I'm going to go. I'll have the Watchtower beam me up."

Bruce made the same gesture with his cup that Diana had made a moment earlier and Alfred said goodbye and led her out of the manor. She called the Watchtower and felt her environment change as she was suddenly hundreds of miles above the Earth. She went to her room and found herself decidedly awake by the time she was ready for bed. In response to this, she picked up the book she was currently reading and read until she felt tired again. The Lord of the Rings had been suggested to her by several people as a classic, it had been on her list for a long time buried under many more books she deemed culturally relevant. Arwen was by far her favorite character.