"Looks like we couldn't have picked a better night..." Bruce mumbled sarcastically. His limousine pulled in front of the packed Performing Arts Theater, the ticket box blocked by a thick crowd of people.
"As if it even mattered how many people are here," Natasha said, hugging her fur shawl around her as Bruce helped her out of the limo," We're still guaranteed the best seats in the house. Besides, it just goes to show what an amazing performance will be."
"I think I'll decide that for myself," Bruce countered.
Natasha walked ahead, pushing her way to the front of the mass of patrons. When she reached the door she was greeted by the usher, who seemed too swamped to even recognize her.
"Please have your ticket ready- Oh, Natasha!," he said ,"So glad to have you back!"
"Yes, thank you. Now, what's all this about my ticket?"
"My mistake, Madam. Miss Harlene's had it all taken care of."
"I should hope so, and for my guest?" she nodded her head toward Bruce as he approached and nodded hello. The Usher started for a moment, he had obviously not known who Natasha's guest was going to be.
"...Of course! Good to see you too Mr. Wayne. Come with me, I'll show you to your seats."
Attending anything here was never easy on Bruce. He had never admitted to Natasha that his parents had taken him to this very theater on the night that they were murdered. But she found out anyway, her only clue was the plaque on the side of the building with the words IN REMEMBRANCE OF THOMAS AND MARTHA WAYNE engraved in it. She'd been so touched that he'd summoned the strength to come to her show that she had agreed to go out to dinner with him, which turned out to be on the night they ran into Harvey and Rachel. And here she was again, trying to distract him form the sadness he must have felt for their deaths.
They reached their private box seat, high above the suit-and-pearls-clad audience that shuffled into the rows below.
"Thank you again for coming with me, Bruce. I know this has been an especially difficult time for you."
"You're very welcome, but there's no need-" The lights in the theater began to dim, and Bruce was cut off by Natasha's over-excited squeal of "Shush! Shush! It's starting!" Bruce rolled his eyes with a smirk and wrapped his arm around her.
The stage lit up in pink and orange spotlights, and dancers in billowy costumes pranced onto the stage. They climbed on top of each other until they formed a pyramid. A man dressed in a black leotard and top hat went to the top. He pulled two clubs from his hat and brought them together with a loud "CRACK", causing them both to catch on fire. While the man juggled his flaming clubs, the dancers slowly snuck away from the pyramid, causing the audience to break out in soft laughter. Seeming not to notice, the juggler, continued until only one person was left to support him. The juggler feigned surprise when the last dancer gave way and he tumbled to the floor. He dramatically got to his feet and puzzled over the extinguished clubs. A moment later, a large belch erupted from his mouth, along with a roaring flame.
Meanwhile, Bruce was trying to distract himself from the show, which was already giving him uncomfortable flashbacks of the acrobats that had caused his childhood panic attack.
"So Natasha," he said softly into her ear,"how is it you know these people?"
"The Russian Ballet and Cirque du Doli have been traveling together on and off for a few years now," she responded,"We perform for the first few weeks in each city, and they perform for a few weeks before we move on."
"I see. And how long have you and Harlene known each other?"
"Since our tour in Romania last year. She's still relatively new to the business. When we met it was her first time traveling out of the states, so I taught her everything I know about how to deal with fans and managers."
"That can't be good." Bruce teased.
The theater went completely black, save for one narrow spotlight in the center of the stage. Two performers emerged carrying a black and red striped box about two square feet in size and set it on the stage.
"I think this is her act..." Natasha said softly, watching the stage.
A slender leg in a black leotard draped itself over the side of the box, then another leg dressed in maroon. Two hands emerged from the box and gripped the sides, lifting out their owner, a small blonde in a tight ponytail. Bent over so her head was tucked upside-down beneath her bottom, she hobbled about the stage, letting out a mock cry for help. Two other performers in black and red costumes ran onto the stage, each taking one of her outstretched arms. The performers tugged in the wrong direction, pulling her further into her predicament until she fell to the floor, literally straddling herself. The blonde made a pouty face and crossed her arms angrily, and the performers shrugged at her in unison. A third "helper" came onto the stage, holding a trapeze bar that was fettered somewhere high above the stage. He handed it to the girl, and gestured for her to hold on tight. She gave a sharp nod, and the other performers pulled an enormous crank onto the stage. When all three began turning the crank, the trapeze lifted the girl off the floor until she was over twenty feet in the air. She swung back and forth on the trapeze until her body fully straightened out, letting go of the bar and somersaulting to the floor.
After a few more acts, Harlene emerged again from a plank suspended above the stage, this time flowing reams of colorful cloth hung from her wrists and ankles. This portion of her act invloved she and several others dressed in similar outfits doing elaborate flips and dances while suspended on wires, high in the air. The long, light cloth trailed behind each dancer as they swung from one side of the stage to the other. Before long they were flying over the audience, and Natasha called out,"Harlene! Over here!"and Bruce sunk lower into his seat to avoid being noticed. Harlene swung momentarily above their box, waving and shouting "Hi!". Bruce returned with a small wave and a sheepish smile.
The rest of the performance passed just as mesmerisingly, and ended to a standing ovation. After the show, Bruce and Natasha met Harlene At The Gransville, a restaurant in uptown Gotham.
"Hey," Harlene said, catching her breath as she took a seat in their booth,"I can't believe you guys beat me here. I thought you'd at least stay for the merchandise signing."
"We did," Natasha responded," you took too long in wardrobe."
"Oh yeah... it does take awhile, getting out of that monkey suit. So, do I finally get to meet your friend?"
"Mhm! Bruce, may I introduce Harlene Quinzel. She is the one who accompanied me to the fund raiser..." Natasha broke off into an awkward silence, afraid that she may have offended Bruce by almost bringing up Harvey and the Joker's attack that night.
"Of course," Bruce said, keeping up the conversation,"I'm sorry I never got the pleasure. I also apologize for how... harrowing the evening got."
"That's right," Harlene's mind drifted off as she fiddled with the gleaming aqua pendant around her neck," Deffinately, exciting..." Bruce's comment seemed to have backfired, because the next lapse in conversation seemed to be even more awkward.
"Er... that's a stunning necklace, Harlene. Where did you get it?"
"Oh, this thing? I found it in the dressing room we used back in Romania. I asked the caretaker if it belonged to anyone, but he said the people who used the room before us were already long gone, so I held onto it. Remember Natasha?"
"So it wasn't a gift or anything? What made you so interested?"
"I dunno, i just thought it was cute."
"But it does bring me back!" Natasha interjected," While we were there, we went to see a fortune teller, just for fun. And she told Harlene that that charm would help her find her true love, isn't that cute?"
"Cute, sure. But you can never take that stuff seriously. She also said that I was going to die very young. Isn't that grim?" Harlene added the part at the end, mocking Natasha's comment. "But you never know, she also told Natasha she would marry someone influential."
Alright, Bruce thought, another subject change.
"Well ladies, would you like me to order for you? I'm afraid the whole menu is in French."
"Something light for me Bruce, I don't really care what."
"Well..." Harlene trailed, looking through the menu while leaning her cheek on her hand," I do understand the word bon bon."
"Desserts? Already?"
"What can I say? I'm a sugar addict. Ever since I was little!"
Natasha nodded cynically,"She does have, as you all say, the addictive personality."
Bruce gave a hearty laugh,"Alright. Bon Bons it is, Harlene. Should I feel guilty for supporting your addiction?"
"Hey, it could be something worse!"
As the evening continued, the conversation drifted to anecdotes from their younger years.
"I was actually supposed to be a psychologist, believe it or not," Harlene shared.
Bruce wiped the corner of his mouth on his napkin," Well, I don't beleive it."
"Seriously! I even went to school for it and everything. My parents were both psychologists, and they were pretty bent on having me do the same thing. But I spent every summer with my Aunt, who worked as a circus clown. When I was with her I practiced, and she told me I had talent for this business. Two years into college I realized that stuff wasn't for me, and I dropped out. My parents pretty much stoped talking to me... But that never really got me down-"
Sheesh, Bruce thought, this girl can ramble forever. Sure, she was interesting in small doses, but after too long it just got old. Her blue eyes that seemed so deep when she was above them on the highwire now seemed just... flat. They were more of a light, icy blue that had no real depth to them. It didn't change the fact that she seemed like a nice enough girl, but lets just say that it's a good thing she was pretty.
"So after a little while in this small time circus act, I got accepted into Cirque du Doli. That was my break, I had never been so excited."
A few tables behind them, a dark haired woman with slanted green eyes watched Bruce Wayne. Around her, her new friends giggled and gossiped, but she sat silently, stirring her coffee.
"Something wrong, Selena?" one of the women asked.
"I'm fine, I was just noticing-"
"Bruce Wayne, right? I know, He's kind of a big deal around here. I wanted to go ask for his autograph or a picture, but he's probably got bodyguards hiding in the plants or something. That guy really likes his privacy."
"No, well, yeah. It's just that I met him in an elevator once on the way back to my apartment."
"Really? He talked to you?"
"He's a pretty nice guy..." she responded. She was sick of the questions, honestly. And sick of being out with these people. There was just something about this Mr. Wayne...
"I think I'm gonna call it a night, girls."
"Aw, you're leaving already?" her friends asked with disappointed faces. Selena was no fool. She was perfectly aware that they knew she lived near Bruce Wayne, and was bound to know him by now. She only agreed to go out with them to get another glimpse of him.
"Yeah, I've got kind of a busy day tomorrow," she said before taking her purse, walking outside to the corner, and hailing the nearest cab. When she got in it took off into the city toward Mammoth Apartments.
Hey, thanks for being so patient. One thing: I've just realized that I've been spelling Natacha's name wrong, but i figured it's too late to go back on it now.
It gets better, I promise!