Bruce fought with his wine-red tie in the full length silver mirror. He grunted, his eyebrows furrowed in a frown as he stared at a large knot formed from when he tried to tighten the tie. The young man swore under his breath, running a frustrated hand through his hair and began working his fingers to undo the tangle. He stopped momentarily to shake his sleeve and caught a look at the platinum Rolex on his wrist before expelling another curse and fidgeting with the knot.

"Having trouble, Master Wayne?"

Bruce glanced back at the drawling, British-accented voice and felt his lips turn up in a sheepish grin. Alfred Pennyworth stood in the doorway, his hands behind his back and a dry, humorless look on his face. "Yeah, a little trouble. I'm going to be late, and I could really use a hand…"

"I can see that," the older man quipped, stepping through the threshold onto the rich Persian rug and batting Bruce's hands away from the offending tie. "My god, what were you doing, tying a noose?"

"Alfred…"

"One moment, one moment…" He shook his head, sighing to himself. "I see you have a date tonight. I think I want to meet this young woman."

Bruce frowned as the older man adjusted the silk fabric around his neck. "Oh? Why's that?"

"I've never caught you so jittery, Master Wayne. She must be a sight to behold."

"I'm not jittery. I was reading the paper while tying this thing and got a little distracted."

"Mmmhm…" the older man hummed, not sounding at all convinced. Bruce sighed and held up the paper for the older man to read.

Gotham's New D.A. to Prosecute Carmine Falcone in Court

Alfred quirked his eyebrow and cast a look up from the paper at Bruce. "Your old friend Mr. Dent is prosecuting that Falcone character?" He focused on the tie again. "I thought Mr. Falcone had been sent to Arkham."

"Yeah, so did I. Apparently he got better."

"I didn't realize there was a cure for madness," Alfred snipped, tightening the tie and stepping back as Bruce looked at himself in the mirror.

"Well, there is. It's small, and green, and usually has a president's face on it."

Alfred gave a snort and shook his head, muttering something beneath his breath. Bruce turned back around and held out his arms. "Well? How do I look?"

"Positively dashing, Master Wayne," Alfred half-stated, half-sighed.

"You're just saying that," Bruce grinned, shrugging his Armani coat over his shoulders and picking up his wallet from the nightstand.

"And smart too," Alfred smiled as the young man walked past him, bounding down the grand staircase every other step at a time.

"Don't wait up for me Alfred!" Bruce called before shutting the door behind him. Alfred sighed, picking up the abandoned newspaper in the room and tucked it beneath his arm, strolling from the room at his usual mellow pace.

"No worries Master Bruce, I won't. I suppose I'll keep myself entertained with the funnies…"

-----------------------------

Bruce rolled his black Lamborghini Murciélago to a stop outside the Ritz-Carlton. Steel blue eyes traveled up the side of the building, stopping at the very top window, and the young man let out a pent up breath he had been holding in for quite some time.

"Nice car."

Bruce looked up and saw the valet, wide eyed, looking at the sleek black vehicle. He smirked, tossing him the keys, and jerked his head to the car. "I'll be right back."

"Yes sir."

Bruce rounded the hood of the car, fixing his jacket one last time, and gave the doorman a courteous nod as he opened the door.

"Good evening and welcome to the Ritz-Carlton…" The receptionist lifted her head from a clipboard and her eyebrows twitched into a slight frown. "Mr. Wayne? Bruce Wayne?"

Bruce chuckled, placing his forearms on the front desk. "I really should get a secret identity or something."

The receptionist blinked and smiled brightly. "I'm sorry sir, what would you like us to do for you tonight?"

"I'm looking for a Miss Talia Head. She's in one of your suites. I was wondering if you could send a call up there for me to tell her I'm here to pick her up for dinner."

The woman nodded, pressing one of buttons on her the phone sitting by the computer and continued to type on her computer as Bruce turned around to face the revolving doors behind him.

"Hello? Yes, this is the front desk. Mr. Bruce Wayne says he's here to pick Ms. Head up for dinner." She blinked, slowing her typing as she nodded to herself. "Uh-huh, sure. I'll tell him." She pressed the button again and smiled up at Bruce as he turned back to face her. "Her bodyguard will be down with her in a moment. He says you'll need to be searched."

Bruce laughed, scratching at his head idly. "Ah, well…I…I never heard that one before…" He clutched his jacket a bit tighter around his shoulders and shrugged. "How long do you think they'll―"

Bruce was cut off by the sound of the elevator light pinging to life and the gold doors sliding open to reveal the burly guard from last night. He looked all the more menacing today, with his sunglasses pushed firmly onto his face and a blank look across his features.

"Mr. Wayne."

"I take it you need to search me, right?" Bruce had his answer as the bodyguard's large hands patted down his coat and pant legs. The man grunted, looking him over, then picked up his walkie-talkie, muttering something unintelligible to the person on the other side. He placed his hands behind his back and stared at Bruce, stone-faced.

"Miss Head will be down in a moment."

"Thanks," Bruce grimaced, avoiding the man's eyes despite their being hidden behind the darkened shades.

It wasn't long before the elevator doors opened and Bruce felt a smile curl over his lips. Talia stepped into the soft light of the hotel lobby wearing a short black dress, glittering with faint silver specks, and let her long auburn hair cascade over her shoulders. Long diamond strand-like earrings sparkled, following the curve of her neck, and an equally shimmering diamond necklace wound itself around her graceful features. One hand held a phone to her ear while the other waved about carelessly as she spoke, the occasional sparkle of jewelry catching Bruce's eye.

"Non, non, expliquez à lui que je dis les ordres. Oui, merci. Au revoir." Talia slapped the phone closed, stuffing it into her purse as she smiled up at Bruce. "Ah, Mr. Wayne, I see you made it."

Bruce took her hand and smiled, kissing her knuckles. "Of course."

"My, my," she laughed airily, pulling her hand back. "You're quite the charmer I see. I signed up for a tour guide and got a gentleman."

"I was only trying to be polite, Ms. Head." Bruce glanced down at her purse, then back up at her. "I didn't know you spoke French."

"My father sent me to a prestigious school as a child…I needed to learn it in order to take over his business." Talia let her head loll to the side and smiled. "Now…are you ready to go Mr. Wayne?"

He held out his elbow and grinned brightly. "Of course I am." Talia glanced down at his arm, then back at him with tinkling laughter, placing her hand over his elbow.

"Thank you, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce led her down through the front doors, throwing a look back at the man inside. "Your guard isn't coming along?"

Talia's hazel eyes twinkled as she smiled. "No, I gave him the night off. He's always busy, plus it is only dinner, right?"

The valet tossed Bruce his keys and the young man gave her his charming, million-dollar smirk.

"Right, only dinner," Bruce murmured, opening the Lamborghini's door for her. Talia sank into her seat, her eyes following him as he rounded the car and hopped into the driver's seat.

"So, where are we going tonight, Mr. Wayne?"

"A new Italian place down the street, 'Sole Dorato'."

"Sounds nice."
Bruce shrugged. "That's what I hear. I hope you don't mind."

"Now why would I mind?" She grinned as the car sped down Grand Avenue. Bruce looked over at her, streetlamps lighting her face up at regular intervals each time they passed under them. Her hair whipped about her face, and sometimes she would raise her perfectly manicured hands to keep the strands from sticking to her lipstick.

He really hoped now that tonight there would be no reason for Batman to be called into duty.

-----------------------------

Bruce set his fork down, bringing his napkin to his lips as Talia took a pull on her champagne glass across from him. "The meal was delicious, Mr. Wayne. I'll have to remember this place next time I want Italian."

"I thought you might like it."

"Oh did you now?"

Bruce waved for the maître d' as he nodded at Talia. "Well, I pictured you as the type who might appreciate a nice Italian meal."

"You seem to know me better than most, and we only just met."

Bruce noted the flirtatious look in her eye and averted his gaze to the waiter, though he still spoke to her. "Well, I think it's just good guesswork."

"You have a knack for that, I presume? Guessing things women enjoy?"

"You could call it that. Why?"

Talia held her glass out as the waiter poured more champagne in it. "Well, your reputation precedes you. On my way to the hotel, every newsstand I passed had some sort of story on you. You have a way with making a name for yourself."

Bruce chuckled. "That's not always a good thing."

Talia laughed as well. "Well, be glad there's someone out there more popular than you, then."

"Hm, I should shake his hand. Who is it?"

Talia looked at him in shock. "Oh don't tell me. You are Mr. Gotham. You must know about the Batman's popularity."

"Oh that nut?" Bruce snorted. "Trust me, I'm not too threatened by his rise to fame." He shrugged, sipping his glass. "He's a fad. It'll pass eventually."

"I sense a bit of jealousy."

Bruce rolled his eyes, smiling. "I'm not one for jealousy…believe me."

"Pardon me, but would you like dessert or coffee, Mr. Wayne?" The waiter interrupted at Bruce's side.

The young man shook his head. "No, thank you." He waited until the man disappeared before turning his eyes back to Talia. "I know a better place for coffee and dessert."

"Sounds delightful." Talia leaned her chin on her elbow, her lips pulled back into a grin as she eyed Bruce. "I must say you are a very good tour guide."

"Well, Gotham is my home. I know her like the back of my hand."

Talia's eyelids drooped as she stared at him, her smile fading slowly. "It must be a shame then…"

Bruce tipped his glass up, draining it of its contents, his eyebrows drawn upwards. "Hm? Shame? What's a shame?"

"Your city. I know you love Gotham, but it seems she is crumbling around you."

Bruce drew his fingertips together and sighed. "I know…it breaks my heart."

"If people were as concerned as you are, I'm sure your city would be thriving now."

Bruce glanced up, his eyebrows drawing together as he nodded. "I just do what I think my parents would have done. Donations, fundraisers…there's plenty of ways to get the rich to take notice…or at least pretend like they do to look good for the papers."

Talia gave a tittering giggle, flipping her hair back. "Hmph, if you ask me, the rich and famous need a little wakeup call. My father raised me to appreciate our wealth, as I am sure your father had done with you. Why else would I deposit money into your stock?"

"I thought maybe you just liked me better," Bruce states with a coy grin, to which Talia returned with a similar smirk.

"I can tolerate you better, Mr. Wayne."

"Ouch," Bruce feigned hurt, placing a hand on his heart. "That stings. Wait, what ever happened to no formalities? I thought I insisted you call me Bruce."

"And I thought I requested to be called Talia," she stated plainly, her eyes dancing. Bruce looked down at his empty plate and smiled.

"You're right. Forgive me. I―" Bruce's smile faltered as he looked down at his phone, vibrating inside his coat. Talia looked at him, then at the pocket.

"My, Bruce, you are quite popular."

"I'm sorry Talia, just a moment," Bruce excused himself, picking up his cell and walking to the front of the restaurant.

"Hello?"

"Master Bruce, it's Alfred."

"Um, Alfred, if you recall…I'm a little busy at the moment. Dinner, remember?"

"Have you looked up lately?"

"Up? Alfred," Bruce sighed, his eyes slowly drifting to the darkening sky above, "what are you talk―…" His voice trailed off and Alfred gave a click of his tongue.

"You were saying?"

Bruce stared at the bright bat-signal up in the sky. "Gordon?"

"I would think so."

"Now?" Bruce cast a glance back at the restaurant, Talia sitting alone drumming her fingers on the table. "Is there something important on the news?"

"I believe there's a hubbub down in the jewelry district, involving your favorite clown-themed villain."

"Of all nights for him to show up," Bruce grumbled. "Fine, please get my stuff ready, Alfred."

"Yes Master Wayne."

Bruce hung up, cursing under his breath, and doubled back into the restaurant. Talia looked up as he approached, studying his frazzled expression.

"Is everything alright, Bruce?"

"Actually…no. Lucius needs to discuss something important with me about a recent purchase we made, and I'm afraid I have to cut our evening short."

Talia watched him, her eyes scanning his face, and she gave a slight pout of her pretty lips. "Pity, I was quite enjoying myself."

Bruce nodded, resisting the urge to curse again and motioned to his car. "If you like, I can drop you back off at your hotel."

"No, no, that's fine. I'll have one of my guards pick me up." She rose from her seat, crossing around the table, and took her purse up in her hands. Talia stopped before Bruce, placing long, delicate fingers on his shoulder, and leaned up on her toes, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

Bruce quirked an eyebrow, a smile crossing his lips. "What happened to just tolerating me?"

"I can make an exception," she practically purred, pulling her phone from her purse. "I do hope we can meet again, Bruce. I had a lovely time."

"I'll remember that…maybe this Saturday?"

Talia's laugh constricted in her throat, a noise of amusement. "Perhaps. I'll check my schedule." She waggled her fingers in a half-hearted wave and stalked out the front door, hips swaying as she walked.

Bruce watched Talia's receding figure and sighed. "Gordon owes me."

-----------------------------

Talia trudged down the sidewalk until she was out of sight from the restaurant. Then, only then, did she lift her head and stare at the gleaming bat emblem as it glowed against the clouds in the starless sky.

Her lips turned up, a knowing look crossing her lovely features as she placed the phone to her ear. A diamond ring on her finger sparkled, allowing her to focus on something as the other line picked up.

"Hello?"

"I need a ride."

"Where to, Ms. Al Ghul?"

Talia's eyes drifted up to the signal and a cold knot formed in her stomach; hatred…hatred for the man who 'killed' her father.

"Where there's trouble. I want to see the 'batman' in action."


A.N.: 'Nother chapter up. I managed to write this out while drugged up on cold medicine, and am quite proud of the chapter, actually.

And yes, in case you are wondering, Talia does know who Batman is. If her dad is still alive (as she has admitted in the last chapter), of course he'd tell his daughter the truth, right?

Hopefully more Crane coming up, I really have no set plot currently so...ideas are still trying to form properly. Please enjoy reading and please review:) thank you, all of you who have been reading so far. Means a lot to me.