Disclaimer: I own nothing but the characters of my own creation.

AN: Sorry for the delayed update. Things have been kind of crazy. Rest assured, I WILL finish this story, so it's not going to be abandoned :). Also, the story is rated M for a reason and will be getting darker pretty soon, just to let you guys know. Anyway, enjoy and chapter 8 will be up sometime in the near future.

AN2: The first 9 chapters have been re-edited for grammatical errors. There isn't anything new so you shouldn't have to re-read it. But if you really want to I'm not going to stop you

"It's just a little crush,

Not like I faint, everytime we touch"

Crush - Jennifer Page

A crack of thunder peeled through the oppressive air as the heavens opened up their floodgates right as Nicole opened the doors to exit Wayne Tower. It had been a stormy week in Gotham and the humidity seemed as if it would suffocate her and deprive her of the precious oxygen she needed to survive—that is if she didn't drown first. Nicole had forgotten her umbrella and she was stewing over that fact as she stood at the crosswalk, waiting for traffic to clear or the walk sign to appear, whichever came first, she really didn't care.

Although she was thankful it was Friday, the day couldn't have been worse. The previous night's storms had left Nicole and Rebecca without power. Unfortunately, the roommates had had no idea their power was out and had both overslept. Needless to say, she had been late to work. The day had only gone downhill from there. Rebecca had visited her for lunch, seeing as how the elder brunette had acquired a much needed day off, and had brought a letter with her. It was addressed to Nicole and bore a marking indicating it was from her home town, only there wasn't a return address. With her curiosity getting the better of her, Nicole had opened the letter. It was from her former best friend, asking not only for her forgiveness, but for her help in wooing back her husband. It seemed Will had strayed once again into the arms of a willing family friend and her former friend was having trouble dealing with this and wanted to enlist her help in getting her husband back for the sake of his growing family. She had stated that if anyone could talk sense into him, it was Nicole, whom he still cared for. The audacity of her former best friend angered her and she had been sorely tempted to tear up the letter. Instead she showed Rebecca and her friend had tried to comfort her. She had suggested having drinks and movies in tonight to help get her mind off things, and Nicole had agreed.

Nicole had grumpily gotten back to work with her thoughts straying to the past. Unfortunately this caused her to make an error and she had accidentally deleted the data file she had begun earlier in the day instead of saving it. She had restarted the work, only to finish at around seven in the afternoon. Her thoughts of the day's events were broken as another peel of thunder rolled through the city and she noticed that she was finally able to cross the busy intersection.

The parking garage was a towering structure built for the use of Wayne Enterprises. During the day, the massive ten level structure typically was jam packed full of a various array of vehicles; now, however, it stood barren and almost foreboding, bathed in a dull yellow light from the overhead lights. Nicole, now soaking wet, opted to take the stairs instead of the elevator to the sixth level. She had a fear that even in an upscale, rather secure garage such as this, there would be someone waiting to attack her as soon as the doors opened. At least if she took the stairs, she'd have a chance to escape or fight back. Fortunately, today was not a day in which her fears would be realized. She saw her car sitting by itself and gave a sigh of relief as she walked over to it. After sitting her stuff inside, she shrugged out of her sopping wet black dress jacket, throwing it haphazardly in the back of the Blazer. She pulled her soaked hair into a wet messy bun and wiped the sweat from her brow. It felt as if she was in a steam room and the rain was only making the humidity worse instead of cooling things off.

She climbed into the bright red SUV, wishing she didn't have the drive ahead of her. She wished she could magically transport herself home without dealing with the idiot drivers that only seemed to appear when it was raining. She wanted to be at home, in comfortable clothing, with a nice alcoholic beverage and a good movie. She turned the key, only to hear a choking sound. Nicole blinked and turned the key again, only to hear the same noise.

"What? Come on, what the Hell!?"

She tried it again only to ear the sputtering of engine. She paused, hand on her key, and stared at the engine gauges. She occasionally had problems with the starter, but it typically sputtered to life after a few tries. She tried one last time only to hear the coughing of the engine. She sighed and pulled the lever that would pop the hood.

She got out and slowly walked to the front of the car, her chunky black boot covered footsteps echoing in the empty deck. She released the hood and opened it fully, staring at the engine in what little light there was. Everything looked fine, and after checking a few key elements, she realized, it was in fact, the starter. Well, she thought darkly, there's always hotwiring the damn thing, though she knew she would never do it.

She pulled out her cell phone and tried calling her roommate, who could at least pick her up. When Rebecca didn't answer, she tried a few friends that would help her fix the car. None of them picked up and she left the required voicemails. She stared at the engine as if it were foreign, feeling the rage and frustration build inside. It would figure that today, of all days, the starter would finally die, especially while she was in an empty parking garage. Now, she would most likely have to walk the multiple blocks in the pouring rain before she made it to the train station, unless she happened to find a cab, but those were rare to find after work hours on a Friday afternoon.

Nicole couldn't take the frustration and anger any longer and finally let it spill over.

"You fucking piece of shit car! Why the fuck won't you work!" Nicole began screaming, and even growling, at the SUV. She had just released a guttural scream while roughly kicking her front tire when she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye and the sound of a powerful engine.

Nicole's now throbbing foot was suddenly forgotten about as the blue Lamborghini pulled up next to her. There was only one person who that car could belong to.

"Are you effing kidding me?" she questioned under her breath as she turned her eyes upward. She was still annoyed, for some reason she refused to fathom, at how Bruce and his girlfriend had treated her. Moreover, it annoyed her at how he seemed to shift personalities so easily and took him for being two-faced. In fact, the entire week, she had been cordial to the man but her body language had betrayed her, keying him into the fact she was still annoyed. At the time, she hadn't cared she was being overly judgmental toward the man.

Rolling down the tinted window, Bruce Wayne appeared with an amused look on his face, after all, it wasn't every day he saw someone trying to attack a car.

"Something wrong?" he questioned.

Standing with arms crossed and her hand clinched around her blue cell phone, she tersely replied, "It won't start. The starter's fried and it finally died."

"Do you need help?"

Nicole seriously felt like laughing at that question for multiple reasons, the main being that Bruce Wayne seemed to have just offered to fix her car for her.

"My roommate will know someone who can fix this, I'll talk to her about it when I get home," she managed with a straight face. Then she added "but thanks." Her mom did teach her to be respectful after all.

"How are you getting home?"

"I guess I'm walking or taking the train."

Bruce eyed her for a moment. The fact that her hair was still dripping wet indicated she probably didn't have an umbrella. The storm was only getting worse and it was a long walk to the train. Not to mention the later that it got, the more dangerous the streets became—even if it was the financial district.

"How about I give you a lift?"

"No, I don't want you to go out of your way for me; I'll be fine, really."

"I insist. Besides, the storm is only getting worse. You might as well say yes, I'm not going to let you walk," he said with his most charming and confident smile.

Nicole contemplated it for a moment. It was clear that he was insistent on the matter and it would keep her dry.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, get your stuff, it's no trouble," he soothed.

She nodded and closed the hood on her car before walking around to the driver's side door. She grabbed her things and slammed the door after locking it. As she approached the Lamborghini, she felt a bit guilty for getting into the car simply because she was soaking wet and it probably cost more than five times the year's rent of her apartment.

Bruce opened her door from the inside and held out his hands for her things. He took them and placed them securely behind the seat and gestured for her to get in. Nicole sat, sinking into the leather bucket seat and gently closed the door. She looked to her right and pulled the seat belt over her and clicked it in place, aware that Bruce was staring at her. She glanced up and gave a half smile and nodded.

"Thanks."

"Not a problem," he insisted as he gave her his trademark grin.

Nicole tried her best to stare out the window as the car lurched forward and took the turns, descending to the street below. She focused on the sound of the rain hitting the windows and the sights of traffic—anything but the handsome man sitting to her left. She felt incredibly out of place in the Lamborghini.

Bruce cleared his throat. "How's your foot?"

"Huh?"

"Your foot. You seemed like you were kicking that tire pretty hard."

Nicole felt the blush creeping up her neck. So he had seen that after all. "It's fine, just hurts a little."

"Bad day?"

Nicole was bewildered. How could he keep shifting his personalities like this? This was the "nice" Bruce, the one that she had met at the airport until that woman had shown up. Then, there was "tabloid" Bruce, when he acted like a womanizing jerk. There was "work" Bruce as well. She had seen him when he obviously wasn't aware, focused and obviously intelligent enough to handle owning an empire. So who was he really?

"What makes you say that?"

"You seemed distant at work, your car broke down, you're soaking wet, and I found you kicking your car."

She gave a small laugh. "Yeah, it's been a bad day."

Bruce drove down the expressway, not sure what to say to her. He realized she had been avoiding him for the better part of the week and that she was unnaturally prickly, even now. Part of him suddenly wanted to comfort her and hold her, and that was exactly the part of him that he was trying to shut out. This was his assistant. This was a girl with a bright future ahead of her that needed to steer clear of him and his nightly activities. She would be safe if he didn't let her get too close. Still, part of him remembered Alfred's words and, to be honest, he had been thinking a lot about those words lately.

He stared at her out of the corner of his eye. She was sitting rigidly, looking out the window, in her dress pants and a white spaghetti strap tank top. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun and wavy wet tendrils had fallen loose to frame her face. She wore no makeup, which he found pleasant—too often he saw women that seemed to have bathed in the stuff. Nicole might not have been a model, but she was attractive in her own right. And he was realizing just how attracted to her he was, whether she was sweaty with ruddy cheeks from having just climbed out of an airplane or sitting soaking wet in his expensive Lamborghini. He had to break the silence before his train of thoughts continued.

"I'm sorry, for what Angelique said and how she acted. And for dismissing you in such a way," Bruce said sincerely. He was finding it hard to keep the playboy act up around him and figured the least he could do was be sincere since the woman beside him was having a horrendous day.

Nicole looked up after recovering from the shock of Bruce being humble. "It's alright. You aren't responsible for your girlfriend's actions."

Bruce laughed. "Angelique isn't my girlfriend."

Nicole cocked an eyebrow at him, prodding him to continue.

"She was a date to a wedding, but, it just didn't work out."

Nicole laughed. "With an award winning personality like that, I wonder why."

Bruce smiled at her. "So what do you think of the Lamborghini?"

Nicole looked around. "Eh, it's okay if you like that kind of thing."

"You don't like it?"

"I like Ferraris better."

He laughed and soon the two were engrossed in a conversation about the differences between the two automobile makers. Nicole wasn't too surprised that Bruce knew the differences between the cars; after all, as a man that owned many expensive toys, he ought to know something about them.

For his part, Bruce was stunned the woman beside him knew so much about cars, in addition to history and airplanes. She was unlike most women that he'd met, with the exception of Rachel. They both had many of the same qualities, only Rachel had become distant and obsessed with cleaning up the city in her own way, much like he had. It had worn on her and she had become cynical and serious in nature. Nicole, however, retained a wide eyed innocence about her and an endless supply of wit. She was a breath of fresh air for him.

Soon, the expensive Lamborghini was parked in a space in front of a row of townhouses. Nicole began gathering her things and was about to open the door when Bruce stopped her.

"Hold on, I'll walk you up," he offered and held up his hand as she was about to protest. "It's pouring down rain and I have an umbrella. At least it will keep you from getting drenched again."

She nodded mutely as she acquiesced to his offer and watched as he walked around the car with the large black umbrella shielding him from the rain. He opened the car door and she slid out, standing in close enough proximity to him to take in his scent. He smelled of an expensive cologne she couldn't name but it was slightly spicy and sweet.

Together, they walked across the parking lot and up the flight of stairs as the rain poured down around them. She wondered, briefly, how they might look to the other residents, but her thoughts were pushed aside as they reached the covered walkway followed by her door. She hated awkward moments like these and suddenly it felt more as if she had been on a date than simply having someone drop her off at home, though she wasn't sure why.

"This is me," she said with a smile.

Bruce nodded as he shook out his umbrella. "Are you going the amusement park tomorrow?"

"I am actually, my roommate talked me into it."

There was an awkward pause as he nodded.

"Actually, would you like something to drink or something—maybe some sweet tea, I mean you did drive all the way out here?" she asked, not really knowing what else to say.

Bruce thought for a moment before nodding. "Sure."

"Okay," Nicole smiled, thinking of what her roommate's reaction would be, as she inserted the key into the lock and turned it. The door swung open and she motioned for Bruce to step inside.

"Nikki, finally, you're home! I thought you were going to stand me up and never come home," Rebecca called from her position on the couch without turning around.

Nicole smiled as she walked past Bruce, "I take it you didn't get my message then."

"Nope, I haven't checked my phone. So, I'm thinking drinks first, we'll get you nice and tipsy. Then we'll order some take out and watch a few movies."

Bruce looked questioningly at Nicole as she just grinned. "Becky, don't you even want to know what took me so long?"

The curly haired woman who was lying on the couch, facing the opposite direction sushed her as the news program returned. The perky, cosmetically enhanced blonde read the top entertainment stories, ending on one about Bruce Wayne.

"It appears that billionaire Bruce Wayne is back on the market after his attendance with Angelique Reyes to last week's lavish wedding," the reporter started before Becky yipped with excitement.

"Nikki, isn't that exciting, he's single again. I'm telling you, Nik, if you don't make your move soon someone is going to take that man off the market."

Nicole felt her cheeks redden and Bruce smirked at her.

"Tell me Nikki, how was Mr. Wayne today? Sexy as always?"

Nicole stared at Bruce as he widened his smile and she made a gesture for him to answer her.

"Actually, I wasn't aware I was always sexy," he charmingly answered, with humor in his voice.

Rebecca suddenly sat up straight and froze.

"Nik? Did your voice change?" she questioned.

"Nope," she replied, almost choking on the laughter she was holding back.

Rebecca stood and turned around slowly as her face went nearly white.

"Becky, my car wouldn't start and Mr. Wayne was kind enough to give me a ride home," she said as she grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Bruce Wayne, this is my roommate, Rebecca Blake. Becky, meet Bruce Wayne."

Rebecca recovered quickly and strode forward, holding out her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Wayne."

Bruce shook her hand and gave her a smirk, "The pleasure is all mine—call me Bruce."

Rebecca nodded dumbly while Nicole shook her head as her boss charmed her roommate. Her bad mood had been forgotten as she laughed over her roommate's reaction.

"So, that drink?" she asked.

Nicole and Rebecca lay curled at opposite ends of the couch, each with a White Russian in hand. It had been hours since Bruce Wayne had left their presence and the two had been on a high. Nicole figured the alcohol probably had something to do with it.

Shortly after Bruce had left, she had asked Brent, a mutual friend of both Nicole and Rebecca, to help her fix the starter. He had stopped by and taken her keys, preferring to work alone. By the time he had returned the jerry rigged Blazer, Nicole and Rebecca were well on their way to being toasted. He had stayed for a few drinks before leaving the two to their own devices.

"So, Nikki, Bruce doesn't seem so bad now does he?"

Nicole snorted. "I guess not. I just don't get how he puts on so many faces. I never know who I'm going to talk to. It's weird."

"Well, how about get to know him?"

"Becky…" she started warningly.

"Nikki, the man brought you home and stayed for a drink and seemed perfectly nice to me. Dreamy, even."

"You're drunk."

"No, I'm being honest. Seriously, I think he could like you. It's not every day you hear of Bruce Wayne picking up random assistants is it?"

"Well, if he actually is nice, then yes, hopefully he would pick someone up that needed help."

Rebecca thought for a second, trying a different approach. "True, but he wouldn't have stayed for a drink."

"Anyway," Nicole stated gesturing wildly, "I'd have to like him first."

"I'm sure if you gave him a chance you would."

For once, Nicole didn't have a comeback.

"Well, my dear, I'm going to bed. We have a long day tomorrow and I don't want to be hung over," Rebecca said as she stood. "Nikki, think about what I said," she suggested as she disappeared up the stairs.

Nicole stared warily into her own glass before downing its contents. She entertained the thought of liking Bruce Wayne. If he was anything like the man he had portrayed himself to be today, she would be in danger of falling for him. But could she trust him? Moreover, was that who he really was? Shaking the thoughts from her head, Nicole sat her glass on the table and stood, stretching her arms toward the ceiling. She felt a growing attraction to Bruce Wayne that she couldn't deny, but at the same time she didn't want to think about what it meant. Yawning, she climbed the stairs to her bedroom. Sleep beckoned her and she was going to answer its call.

Victor Zsasz prowled the Narrows, trudging through the wet and littered streets as he looked for a nightly companion. Despite it being a Friday night, it seemed the stormy weather had driven away most of the prostitutes down near the docks, which was his favorite haunt. His companions were generally paid well, both for their services and their trust—he was still a wanted man after all. So far, his search for an acceptable companion was proving fruitless. He remembered the raven haired beauty with emerald eyes that he had once enjoyed the company of. She was truly wonderful and had one of the most seductive laughs he'd ever heard. It was as close to love as he had ever been. But Katarina Collins was now gone and it was likely that he would never see her again.

The balding, scruffy looking man had just turned a corner when he was suddenly slammed painfully against the wall by a dark figure. It seemed the streets weren't quite so empty after all.

"Zsasz," came the growl

"So you didn't forget me after all, eh, Batsy?" he wheezed with a wry smile.

"Miranda Johnson, remember her?"

"She's the girl the Calendar killer got. But I never met her."

"She's the girl you murdered," the Batman insinuated.

Dark laughter echoed through the alley as Zsasz cackled. "No, I never touched her. I never even met the broad. I've killed my share of people, but I'm not who you're lookin' for."

The Batman gazed darkly at Zsasz. "Their throats were slit and they were staged, just like the rest of your victims."

Zsasz's face contorted with rage. "I didn't kill those women. I kill to liberate tortured souls. And when I kill it's for that reason only. I don't torture my victims. I don't rape them. It's quick and clean. I never killed any of those women!"

"How did you know they were raped?" Batman growled.

"Katarina told me. She told me that he got a little rough with Bunny during one of their encounters. She wasn't his first victim you know."

"How do you know that?"

"It's what Kat said."

"Where is she now?" Batman inquired, applying pressure to Zsasz.

"Metropolis. She was afraid. She'd heard he'd killed there before, prostitutes of course. I told her to go there since he was in Gotham."

Before Zsasz could react, the Batman tore open Zsasz's button up shirt to examine his chest. It was common knowledge that he kept a tally of his victims there. There were only old scars—nothing fresh.

"I told you I didn't kill those girls"

"You're going back to Arkham, Zsasz," Batman growled as he put the murderer in a sleeper hold. As soon as Victor Zsasz was unconscious, he tied the man up before calling the police and leaving a tip about Zsasz.

As the Batman continued his patrol, only one thought ran through it; If Victor Zsasz hadn't been behind the murders, who was?

It sounded as if there were a jackhammer pounding away at something. Nicole pulled the covers farther over her head, trying to shut out the noise to no avail. With a huff, she kicked the covers off of her. There had been a woodpecker attempting to peck through the vinyl siding next to her window for the past three days. Ordinarily, she would have laughed at the wayward bird, but this morning, her head was pounding.

Squinting from the brightness of the room, she slowly rose from her comfortable position, on a quest to find aspirin and sustenance. As she slinked into the kitchen, she was taken aback by the scene. Her roommate was not only standing fully dressed and bright-eyed, but cooking breakfast—and all before 8 a.m. on a Saturday morning.

"Morning Nik Nik! How'd you sleep?" The bouncy brunette said cheerfully.

Nicole stared at the girl as if she had two heads. "Where is my roommate? Seriously, are you like a pod person or something?"

Rebecca laughed. "It's a wonderful morning Nikki, why can't I be happy?"

"Did you somehow get laid?"

"No."

"Are you still in shock from meeting Bruce?"

"Oh, its Bruce now is it? What happened to all the formalities, huh?" Rebecca said teasingly.

Nicole just stared blankly at her roommate.

"Well, Nikki, if you must know, I'm excited that we get to spend the day together, at Amusement Mile! I have such happy memories of the place and I'm really excited."

Well shit. She had totally forgotten about going to the amusement park this morning. She blanched. The last time she had been at an amusement park, the day had been disastrous to say the least.

"Nikki, what is it?"

Nicole shook her head. "Nothing major, but you have to promise you won't laugh."

Rebecca nodded her head as she continued scrambling the eggs with the spatula and waited for Nicole to continue.

"I'm afraid of roller coasters."

Rebecca froze with the spatula hovering above the frying pan and a wry smile upon her face.

"You, the girl who thinks flipping around in a plane is fun, are afraid of roller coasters; something that doesn't even have the G force of the stuff you do in a plane. Am I missing something?"

"I'm not afraid of flying through the air, at my control. When you're on a roller coaster, you have no control. Not to mention, the last time I was on a roller coaster, the safety bar malfunctioned and I was almost thrown out."

"Well, that would be scary I suppose. Anyway, you know what they say; you have to face your fear. So what better way to do that then to drag you onto the biggest and wildest ride there? You have no say in the matter either," Rebecca glinted darkly, ceasing the protest from her roommate. "Besides, there is more danger in flying in a plane thousands of feet above the ground than in a roller coaster I helped design."

Nicole dejectedly dropped down onto the bar stool and placed her head upon her hand. She knew Rebecca was right, that it was a really inane thing to be afraid of considering her own hobby. For some reason, the thought of relinquishing control and relying on something mechanical, or even something human for that matter, to keep her safe scared her witless. There were few things that the brunette could say she was truly afraid of and that was number one on her list. Spiders and death followed at a close second and third.

A cream colored plate filled with scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast slid to her place at the bar, nudging her arm and breaking her train of thought.

"Cheer up Nikki! It'll be fun, I promise. Think of it as another adventure—we know how much you love adventure. And eat, that will fix your hangover," Rebecca stated as she winked at her roommate and turned to fix her own plate.

Nicole nodded and began to munch on the piece of bacon she had picked up. She had wanted excitement in her life just a few weeks ago hadn't she? Sure, this might not be backpacking through Europe, but it was something different. Sitting there eating her breakfast, Nicole vowed to stop worrying over the impending day and to have fun.