Bruce
Wayne Manor
"You said that you would go. The orphanage relies heavily on the funding it receives from Wayne Enterprises, but these benefits are just as vital to their ability to provide good care to the children. You are the face of Wayne Enterprises. It's just once a year, Master Bruce." Alfred wasn't going to let him off the hook. He could avoid most fundraisers throughout the year, but this one was the most important. It wasn't raising money he minded...it was the act required to go along with it.
"They'd better have good brandy," he grumbled. It had been a while since he was last drunk; might be the perfect time.
"I have been assured that they will have a wide variety of the finest, sir. You will be picking up your date at 8:00 pm."
"Who?" He was sick of models.
"A model. Someone with a local agency. She wanted the publicity," Alfred said, far too used to the routine.
"Great. Have any earplugs?"
Alfred snickered and walked to remove the tuxedo coat from the entry closet. Putting it on, Bruce checked his appearance in the mirror before walking out to the waiting limousine. It was time to put on a show, as always. If he could get through the evening without insulting the intelligence of his date, he would consider it a resounding success.
"Do enjoy your evening, sir," Alfred said, knowing he would not.
His date was the typical rail-thin model who couldn't carry on a conversation. Not all models were miserable to be around, but the personable ones were few and far between. Most just wanted to make a name for themselves by being seen on the arm of "Bruce Wayne". Most would also leak stories about the amazing weekend they ended up spending together on his yacht. He didn't even own a yacht. The lies were good for keeping his mask in place, though, so he played coy when approached by newspapers later.
"She was a lovely lady," he would say, making sure not to move the press needle too far in one direction or the other.
When they arrived at the Gotham Society Lounge and Bar, the photographers were lining the entryway in full force. Taking a deep breath, he spoke his first words to his date since "hello" in front of her apartment.
"Shall we?" He offered his arm and she turned on a fake smile to match his own. They walked through the blinding flashes, and he let his mind wander back to everything else he could be doing right now. The list was endless, but he was here with the Gotham "elite", ready to wine and dine and make the orphanage a little richer.
Zatanna
She had ended up walking for hours. The cool air had helped clear her head a bit and also gave her a chance to look at things a little more objectively. She was clearly going to be captured and in pain at some point, but she hadn't seen her death.
Maybe I get out.
It was the only thing she could think of that would keep her from screaming. She was still training with Bruce. She had the whole Justice League on her side. There was nothing else she could do to stack the odds in her favor, so she would have to trust that she would survive. If she didn't trust in that, she would drive herself mad.
Her phone was buzzing when she walked in the door, closely followed by Asshole, who did not appreciate being left outside in the cold for so long. He shot her a dirty look as he ran upstairs, probably to take over her bed.
"Hello?"
"You forgot, didn't you? You always forget." Tony's voice was in a panic. She wracked her memory for what she possibly could have forgotten.
"No...yes. Catch me up?"
"Fundraiser. Tonight. Now, in fact. It's starting right now," he said, exasperated.
"Oh, shit! I completely forgot. Shit! I'll get ready and go." She was already running up the stairs to shower.
"Good, because your date is going to be there in 20 minutes."
"Ugh...who? I hate it when you get me dates," she sighed, remembering some of the real stinkers along the way.
"You seemed to enjoy the Prince of Brunei," he quipped.
"Okay, fair enough."
"It's a just a local businessman. He seems nice enough. If he's not, you can always pull a vanishing act in the middle of the dance floor. Hell, that might make them more money!" Tony knew how to win her over.
"Alright, send your escort my way. I'm going to shower and get ready. Thanks for being my memory for me." She hung up the phone and took a quick shower before casting a spell to get a killer dress and the right hair and makeup. Maybe the businessman would be worth getting ready for - stranger things have happened. Hearing the car drive up, she walked outside and shook hands with her handsome escort. Tony was at least good at picking lookers.
"Thanks for keeping me company this evening Mr….?"
"Andrews. Greg Andrews. And it's my pleasure," he said, holding the door to the limo open for her.
They made small talk on the way to Gotham Heights, and she took the time to further assess him. His eyes were a pale green and hair dirty blonde; he wore his suit well. As far as dates go, she could have done worse. Once they arrived, they made the obligatory strut through the press line, with reporters yelling questions she couldn't even make out. She just smiled and nodded and told them to have a lovely evening. Happy to be inside, they made their way to the bar. It felt like a night where she would be spending entirely too much time there.
I should have made Sophie come as a chaperon.
She ordered champagne while her date…
Shit, what was his name? Gary?
"Greg," he said. Thankfully, he didn't seem too offended that she had already forgotten. He was holding a glass of whiskey and looking around the room awkwardly.
"Not used to the Gotham snob society?" She asked, trying to get him to relax.
"Afraid not. I feel under-dressed." He looked down at his suit and frowned.
"It's fine. Tuxes are boring anyway. Come on, let's hob nob with the snobs," she said, taking his arm and leading him to a group of tuxes in the far corner.
After an hour, they were both on their fourth drink and getting a little too relaxed...laughing and joking about the ridiculous display of arrogance being put on by people proclaiming to raise money for the good of poor, abandoned children. It was absurd. They had finally wound up on the dance floor when she saw him walk in. Bruce was dressed in a tux and walking arm-in-arm with a tall, leggy stick figure of a girl. She felt a twinge of jealousy, but bit it back.
None of your business, Zee.
Despite the fact that the Wayne Foundation sponsored the evening, she never imagined he would actually be there. They were sponsors of half of the benefits held in the region. Leave it to a billionaire playboy to show up fashionably very late. They hadn't spoken since he had flipped out on her in the Batcave. Hoping to avoid him, she kept her focus on Greg, coming up with random topics to try to keep the conversation going. They were both getting a bit too drunk to really focus on much of anything.
I should have just stayed home.
Bruce
Gotham Heights Lounge
His eyes had found her in the crowd almost instantly. She was dancing with a blonde man in a suit and wearing a black dress that left little to the imagination. Her date's hands were taking full advantage of it as they moved around the floor, laughing and being friendly with the other attendees.
"Eyeing the dance floor already? I'd love to," his date said. He probably knew her name at one point, but he couldn't remember it and didn't care to try. Faking another smile, he led her over and pretended to enjoy himself, while stealing glances back at Zatanna...and her date's hands. They kept creeping lower on her back and she wasn't stopping them. Despite his efforts to fight the urge, he had finally seen enough and decided they needed to be greeted by the event's guest of honor.
"Hey! If it isn't Ms. Zatanna Zatara," he yelled over the crowd, dragging his nameless date toward them. "It's so nice to see you again."
Zatanna's eyes were filled with annoyance, but her eyelids were heavy and face was flushed. She'd clearly been drinking, and if the wobble to her date's handshake was any indication, he was keeping pace with her.
"What a pleasure, Mr. Wayne. Meet Gary Andrews," she half-slurred, not acting this time.
"It's Greg, actually. Nice to meet you. I work for your company."
Bruce's eyes briefly glanced to look at him before returning to Zatanna's annoyed face.
"Oh, right. IT?" He guessed, not having any clue.
"Business department, actually," he replied, sounding disappointed that he hadn't been recognized.
"Right. Sorry. I have a hard time keeping track. Business is booming, so you must be doing a fine job."
"Thanks," he mumbled. Bruce cast a quick glance back to him and then to his date. Both seemed uncomfortable, so he decided it would be best to move on. Reaching out to shake hands again, he flashed another fake smile.
"Nice to meet you, Gary. Zatanna, a pleasure as always. Enjoy the party and feel free to keep hitting the bar. All proceeds go to the best cause in Gotham," he declared before casting a sharp look at Zatanna and walking away with Ms. No Name.
He headed to the bar to start testing out the brandies available while his date started finding more interesting people to chat with. Two brandies in and she was dancing with some older man who had probably promised her a part in a movie. Three brandies in and his eyes started searching for Zatanna again. It took until brandy four before he found her in a dark corner with her date, making out as if no one else was there. Just as he was about to go and drag her away, he heard a voice calling out for him over the drunken, raucous crowd.
"Bruce! Bruce, please. Come to the stage and give a speech. We've almost met our goal for the evening!" Mrs. Reynolds, current head of the orphanage, was soon pulling on his arm. When he was up to the mic, he flashed his usual fake-it smile and held his drink up.
"Gotham! My friends! Thank you so much for your generosity this evening. As you all know, the orphanage is dependent on the good citizens for support. It is also a cause that is near and dear to my heart. We are so near our goal for the year, so please keep buying raffle tickets and drinking and throwing your money in the bucket. As always, I believe in leading by example, so Mrs. Reynolds, put me down for $50,000 now and I will match each $50,000 we raise until midnight!"
The crowd cheered and raised their glasses as he left the stage. Zatanna and what's-his-name weren't remotely fazed, still going after each other like horny teenagers at prom. He'd finally had enough, so he sat down at the bar, ordered another drink, and pulled out his phone.
Zatanna
Somewhere...maybe Gotham...fuzzy
Gary's hands were running along her back and his tongue was stroking against hers. She was beginning to think that maybe drink number six was a mistake, but seeing Bruce there with someone else had made her no longer care.
If he's not sleeping alone, neither am I.
"You know...we could leave," she mumbled between sloppy kisses.
"I think we could," he responded, words slurring heavily. "Your place?"
"Mmm...maybe a hotel. There's one across the street." She wasn't too keen on taking strangers back to her temperamental house unless necessary. He nodded, still clinging to her lips and running his hands over her body.
"Shit," he suddenly said, making her pull her head away. "Hang on, my phone's ringing."
"You're going to answer your phone? Now?"
"You've got to be kidding me. Shit! My alarm is going off at home," he shouted, panic breaking through his drunkenness.
"Call the cops. They can check. Come on...let's go get a room," she said, trying to win back his attention.
"I can't. I have to go. They've broken two windows and...the garage? Not my cars!" He was running toward the entrance now, leaving her fully aroused and completely pissed off.
She looked around the room, wondering if anyone had witnessed the embarrassing display, but everyone seemed to be too busy enjoying the drinks and music to take notice. That is, until she caught a grinning Bruce staring her way.
Goddammit.
Not wanting to deal with the crowd alone, she decided it would be a good time to make an exit. She walked to the entrance and requested her limousine from the valet.
"Your limo? Oh. Oh, Ms. Zatara I'm so sorry, but your friend already took it home," the valet stammered to her.
"He took...my limo. And you let him take my limo." Her hand went up to rub her eyes. A dull throb was starting to replace her buzz.
"I'm so sorry," the valet repeated, "please, let me get you another car. On us. And we'll pay for your limo. I'm so, so sorry." He kept apologizing while he flipped through pages of phone numbers. A voice from behind made her head throb even more.
"Is there some kind of problem?" Bruce's low voice asked.
"No, everything's fine. Just heading home," she replied, not turning to look at him.
"Alone? Didn't you come in a limo or something?"
"Yes to both, Mr. Wayne. Didn't you come with a partially-inflated blow up doll?" It wasn't the most creative comeback, but she was still pretty drunk.
"I thought I did. I guess she found someone more interesting to spend the evening with."
"At least she didn't take your limo," Zatanna said under her breath, still refusing to turn and look at him.
"How about a ride home? It'll take them forever to find another car tonight," he said, taking her arm and turning her around.
His eyes were warm, but intense. She tried to turn away, but he held her in place. Leaning a bit closer, she lowered her voice.
"Let's not stir the press up again, huh?"
"No need," he said quietly before turning toward the valet. "Can you have my limo pull into the garage? I'd like to avoid the press line this evening."
"Of course, Mr. Wayne, it will just be a moment."
"Thanks. And don't bother with that car for Ms. Zatara. I can give her a ride." He slipped the valet the obligatory $100 Bruce Wayne tip and stepped back toward her. "Meet me at the garage and I'll get you home."
He walked away before she could refuse. She was still angry at him and at...whatever that guy's name was. Reluctantly, she decided to join Bruce in the car before teleporting the rest of the way. She didn't trust herself to use magic until she had sobered up a little more; no telling where she would end up if she slurred the spell.
Bruce
Limo
He felt a little bad about the ruse, but not bad enough to apologize to anyone. Blonde guy's house was fine and his hands were no longer trying to rip Zatanna's clothes off in public...just some harmless tech tampering. After waiting in the car for 15 minutes, he was beginning to think she had found another way home. Just when he was about to relent and leave, she came out of the back door and slipped into the car next to him. He nodded to the driver and they headed toward Shadowcrest silently as he rolled the privacy glass up. It was several minutes before she finally spoke, staring out of her window.
"I don't need you to rescue me." She didn't sound appreciative.
"I'm not. I'm just giving you a ride home."
"I meant my date. You think I don't know that was your doing?" She finally turned to look at him, her eyes a little clearer than they had been earlier in the evening.
"I don't know what you're tal…."
"Stop, Bruce. Even drunk, I can sense deception from a mile away. Why did you decide to ruin my evening?"
"I wasn't trying to ruin your evening," he said. He wasn't expecting her to catch on to his trick so quickly...or at all.
So much for being clever.
"Then what? Did you think I'd be happy that he ditched me? I happened to be enjoying myself."
"You were drunk. He was taking advantage of you."
"He was drunk. I was taking advantage of him," she replied, glaring at him.
"Then I guess I did him a favor." She wasn't amused by his attempt at a joke. "I'm sorry. I should have minded my own business." He knew he wasn't going to get anywhere with her. It was a petty thing to do and he should have left well enough alone, but his jealousy had gotten the better of him. She turned to the window again and they continued in silence for a few minutes.
"So, how are you going to make it up to me?" She finally said, her voice a little less harsh.
"I'm open to suggestions," he said, wondering what she was thinking.
"Find a place to stop," she said, turning to look at him. The anger had left her eyes and she had that heavy-lidded look that always made him lose his train of thought.
Rolling the privacy window down, he directed the driver to park in the nearest lot before slipping him $100.
"Go grab some coffee," he said, "take your time." The driver got out and left them alone in the car. "Are you still drunk?"
"A little. Are you?"
"A little," he smiled, grabbing her hand and interlacing his fingers with hers.
"Good," she said, smiling back and moving closer.
He reached up and brushed her hair back from her face, enjoying the flush on her cheeks, neck, and chest. The dress plunged dangerously low, almost down to her belly button. Leaning forward, he lightly brushed his lips to hers. It was the first time he had kissed her since Vegas and the taste made his head spin a little. He brought his fingers up to trace against her jawline and encourage her mouth to open. Her lips parted just enough for him to slip his tongue in and stroke against hers.
"Mmm...what were you drinking?" She mumbled the words against his mouth. He let his tongue run along her bottom lip as she did.
"Brandy," he whispered back.
"I like it," she smiled, before pushing her tongue between his teeth and filling his mouth. With a moan, he shifted to feel her body, sliding his hands up the slits on each side of her dress and pushing it over her hips. Free to move, she quickly threw her leg over his lap and straddled him. She pulled back and looked down at him, the wild look in her eyes again. Her hands started to work on his tuxedo, removing his tie before slowly opening each button as she rocked her hips into his. He relaxed and let his head fall back against the seat, enjoying the feel of her moving against him.
"I haven't had sex in a limo in a long time," he said, closing his eyes when her hands ran down his chest.
"You're doing better than me. Never had the pleasure."
"Well, then it's a good thing I rescued you," he grinned. She dug her nails into his side and thrust her hips downward. He drew in a sharp breath and grabbed her ass, holding her down against him; he could feel the heat coming from her through their clothes.
If this is her idea of punishing me, I'll have to piss her off more often.
Her hands found their way down to his belt and loosened it before undoing the button and pulling down the zipper. He lifted his hips enough to let her pull his pants and boxers down. She was still straddling him, so he hooked his thumbs under the thin band of her thong and tugged hard. With a snap of the elastic, they were torn; he pulled them off and tossed them to the side before looking up at her.
"Ass," she said before lowering her mouth to his and biting his lip. He pulled her head back and pushed the dress off of her shoulders, exposing her breasts. Taking each in his mouth, he ran slow, wet circles around her nipples with his tongue until she was moaning and running her hand up and down his shaft. He paused long enough to lift her up and lower her onto him, raising his hips up to meet hers. She set a slow pace as he returned his focus to her breasts. They were soft and full. Her moans were timed perfectly to the motion of his tongue. After several minutes of the languid pace, she finally started to move faster against him.
He moved his hands to her hips and helped her slide up and down as he thrust against her. Still sucking on her nipples, he moaned against her skin when her pace became frantic and her cries started to run into one another. He looked up in time to see her throw her head back and let out a loud moan as her muscles began to pulse around him. She was riding it out, biting her lip and digging her fingers into his arms while she came. Not ready to stop, he kept thrusting into her and tasting her breasts, switching back and forth between them, making her writhe and moan. When he was finally ready to come, he moved his hand to roll her clit between his fingers and thrust harder, burying himself in her. She screamed while another orgasm ripped through her body and he continued to slide her up and down his cock until he felt like he was going to pass out. Holding her hips down against his, he kissed up her neck, smelling her perfume mixed with the scent of their sex.
"Officially rescued," he murmured against her skin, pulling her mouth down to his before she could say anything back. Their tongues danced against each another for several minutes before their breathing had slowed to near normal. Lifting her up, he helped her off of his lap and pulled his pants back up. She adjusted her dress and cast a glance at him.
"I guess you're forgiven for ruining my evening. And for yelling at me," she said, trying not to smile.
"I'm so relieved," he said, running his hands through her hair. "How long do you think the driver has been waiting out there?"
"Probably long enough to hear me scream like a banshee. Maybe let him finish his job?"
He rolled the window down and waved to the driver, who sitting on a nearby park bench smirking at him. Getting in, he took them the rest of the way to Shadowcrest. Bruce held her body against his, running his hand along her arm. His fading buzz and the warmth of her body were making him sleepy. He was about to nod off when she spoke in a quiet voice.
"Will you stay with me tonight?" She didn't look at him, but was nervously tracing the seam of his pants.
"If your house will let me," he said, causing her to laugh lightly.
"I'll have a word with it before you go in." She sighed and leaned against him as they rode silently the rest of the way.