Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with Batman. I own Nicole and Becky and Stuart.
AN: Not my favorite chapter, but useful for character development. We'll get back to the action next chapter and the return of Batman! As always, thank you so much for the reviews, alerts, and favoriting. It means a lot!
"Sweet surprise I could get used to,
Unusual you."
Unusual You – Britney Spears
"That's going to kill you, you know," Stuart harped in disgust as he started at Nicole.
Rolling her eyes, Nicole continued chewing the offensive bite of cheeseburger that she had just taken.
"I'm serious! Do you know how much fat is in that? The meat alone is loaded with grease and fat but then you add the cheese and the mayonnaise—"
"There's no mayonnaise," she said as she swallowed. "I can't stand mayonnaise."
Stuart smiled wryly. "Who doesn't like mayonnaise? Everyone likes mayonnaise."
"Nicole has a problem with anything white and creamy," Rebecca stated suggestively as she sank into the plush red seat next to Stuart, startling him. "Where'd you find this one and what happened to— Holy Shit! What the hell what happened to your face?!"
"Well hello Rebecca, it's lovely to see you too."
"Seriously, what happened since you left the club? You got mugged didn't you? And what does tall, ginger, and lanky have to do with it?"
Stuart narrowed his eyes at her description of him. "I'm Officer Mitchell. You must be Nicole's friend."
"Brilliant deduction, Sherlock. Who are you and why are you even here," she interrogated tartly.
"I believe I've already told you my name, miss…?"
Sensing that Rebecca was probably ready to verbally castrate the young officer if she didn't get an answer soon, Nicole decided it was time to intervene. "Becky, he's here to help," she soothed.
"Help with what, getting your shit back? Jesus, I knew I shouldn't have let you take the train by yourself," Rebecca exasperated as she shook her head.
Nicole looked at Stuart, seeking his approval that it was alright to tell her friend what had really happened. He slowly nodded his head, knowing that the situation would affect not only Nicole, but her roommate as well.
"Becky," Nicole started and then hesitated. "Becky, I wasn't mugged. Do you remember the girl at the club that helped me get our drinks? The one I pointed out?"
Rebecca paused for a minute before answering. "Yeah, the blonde chick, right?"
"Right. Her name was Cassidy. Anyway, after I left, I started walking since I couldn't find a taxi and heard a struggle in alley, over near that new Italian restaurant."
"You saw her get mugged," Becky asked, hoping for the best.
"Not exactly. I saw her being attacked."
Before Rebecca could answer, the plump waitress in a pink diner dress with a white apron appeared with a chicken salad and set a menu in front of Rebecca before placing the massive salad in front of Stuart, earning him an odd glance from Becky as she recognized the officer was about to eat her favorite dish.
"Nicole. Please. Tell me you didn't do what I think you did. You didn't. Right," Rebecca pleaded as the waitress retreated.
"Well if you think I tried to help her by running blindly into alley to subdue the attacker, well then, you would be absolutely right."
Rebecca closed her eyes. "What on Earth possessed you to do that? You've heard too much about Batman and its gone straight to your head."
At hearing the name of Gotham's most wanted vigilante, Stuart paused with his fork full of lettuce in the air. "What do you know about Batman?"
"Just what I've read in the paper. He goes around at night, fighting crime, and helping people. You know, the same stuff everyone else has heard," Nicole answered carefully, confused by his tone and sudden change in topic.
"He's killed people, a few of them officers. How can you possibly think he's going around helping people," Stuart chastised.
"Because, he does. Listen to people talk sometime. Listen to the stories. If he's so hell bent on murdering people, why hasn't he killed more people? "
"Rumors aren't always true you know. And who's to say that he hasn't killed before? People go missing in this city all the time. Even people like Cassidy."
"But Batman didn't kidnap Cassidy," Nicole firmly stated.
"Cassidy was kidnapped," Rebecca hissed, afraid of what the new knowledge meant.
"But Batman didn't save Cassidy either, Nicole. Think about it, if he was out saving people, wouldn't he save the victims of a serial killer? Why hasn't he tried to stop the murders?"
"Serial killer?!"
"Well the police have been trying to do just that, haven't they Stuart? Why haven't you guys solved it yet? Maybe he's doing the same thing. And even if he isn't, he didn't have anything to do with kidnapping Cassidy," Nicole retorted. "I don't exactly recall him being in the alley."
Before Stuart could reply Rebecca held up her hand and waved it in front of Nicole's face. "Hey, remember me?"
"Sorry, Becky, what were you saying?"
"What's this about a kidnapping and, serial killer? I get the feeling you haven't told me the entire story yet. So, please, do continue."
"Well, I attacked her attacker but he fought me off. He threw me into the side of the dumpster and it knocked me out. And then he took Cassidy, who had apparently been drugged."
"And who is he?"
"Commissioner Gordon thinks that he fits the profile of the Calendar Killer."
Rebecca closed the menu, suddenly not feeling hungry anymore. "The Calendar Killer. The sicko going around posing bodies of dead girls and slashing open their throats?"
Seeing Nicole pale a little at the blunt description, Stuart decided to answer. "Yes, the same guy. But there's more."
"There always is, isn't there? Why don't you enlighten me, Officer?"
Stuart gave a pathetic attempt at a comforting smile. "We think Nicole is his next victim."
"After he kills Cassidy you mean?"
Nicole looked down at her plate, studying her half-eaten cheeseburger intently, wishing the conversation would end. She was tired of even thinking of what that maniac would do, let alone that she might be next.
"Possibly. We think that it would be safer if you stayed with friends or family for an undisclosed amount of time, until he's caught."
"No," Rebecca replied simply.
Nicole looked up at her, half expecting the answer that came from her friend. She was nothing, if not loyal. "You could get hurt Becky. It's for your own safety."
Rebecca took her hand from across the table. "Sweetie, I'm not leaving you. They're not even sure if you're going to be next."
Nicole knew that it was useless to argue with Becky once she had made up her mind. And part of herself, however small it was, didn't want to be left alone for the taking, even if it did put someone else in danger. Perhaps it was that bit of selfishness that enabled Nicole to accept Rebecca's decision at face value.
"Becky, there is something else you should know. Officer Mitchell is my, er, bodyguard of sorts."
Becky glanced sideways at the ginger topped man and began laughing. "Oh that's rich!" Seeing Nicole's incredulous gaze and Stuart glowering at her she sobered up quickly. "You mean you weren't joking? No offense, Officer Mitchell, but you don't look like much of a bodyguard. You're, well…"
Stuart cut her off abruptly. "I assure you I'm quite capable of the task. During the day, I'll escort Nicole to work and anywhere else she needs to go. Commissioner Gordon thought that she should continue with her daily routine. With more people around, the chances of her being kidnapped in broad daylight are lessened dramatically. I'll take evening watches as well. Two more officers will take the night watch outside of your apartment to make sure everything's okay. In all likelihood, if he tries anything, we'll probably catch him."
Probably. It was that one word that sent chills throughout Nicole's body. She didn't want to imagine what would happen if the police failed to protect her. Forcing the thought from her mind she smiled as she looked at her compatriots before changing the subject.
Nicole sat on the wooden barstool leaning against the small tile bar that separated the kitchen and living room of the small apartment, drinking a cold glass of orange juice. Ordinarily she would have watched the morning news or read the paper since she loved to keep up with current events, but on this Tuesday morning, she didn't have the will to turn on the television. She knew that if she did, it would be peppered with news regarding the Calendar Killer, and truth be told, she didn't have the heart to hear it. Instead, she stared out the living room window, watching the leaves sway gently in the morning breeze, enjoying the calmness of the early morning when there was a knock at the door that was expected. Leaving her perch, Nicole strode quickly to the door and peered through the peephole, already knowing who it was. She opened the door and stepped aside, beckoning Stuart inside.
"Good morning, how are you," Stuart questioned with a pep in his voice that had to be unnatural. At least Nicole assumed that anything awake and so happy in the morning had to be unnatural.
"I'm alright. I'm not entirely awake though. How are you?"
"I'm great. I just talked with the officers outside from the night shift. You should be happy to know they reported no suspicious activity last night."
"Well, I suppose that's good then," she said in a false sense of happiness that never quite met her eyes.
"Look, Nicole, I know you're dealing with a lot right now. But if this guy tries anything, we'll know about it. Just go about your day as normal as you can. In fact, just think of me as a friend along for the ride."
Nicole couldn't help but return the comforting smile he gave. She finally rationalized that he was right. If this guy did come after her she had her own bodyguard and police watching the apartment night and day. And if he did catch her…well she would worry about that later.
"You're right. Thanks Stu."
"Stu?"
"Well you did say we were friends."
Stuart smiled uncomfortably. He'd always hated the name Stu. "So I did. Let's just leave it at Stuart mk?"
"Sure, whatever you say Stu," Nicole replied with a dazzling white smile. "Do you want something to drink?"
"Do you have any milk," he asked, clearly ignoring the nickname.
"One glass of milk, coming right up."
Stuart noticed the rolled up paper sitting haphazardly on the small coffee table that Rebecca had brought in. "Have you read the paper this morning?"
"No," Nicole called from the kitchen as she opened a cabinet, revealing an array of cups. "You can read it if you want. I just didn't want to hear anymore about the Calendar Killer."
Stuart nodded before sitting on the couch and removing the tan rubber band from the thick paper, grey paper. Opening it up, he began reading the morning headlines.
"Anything interesting," she asked as she poured a clear glass adorned with pink and green polka dots full of white liquid.
Stuart looked up. "The same old stuff as always. It seems Gotham still has its fair share of problems. But I do have a question."
"Oh?"
"What's the story with you and Bruce Wayne?"
"He's my boss," she replied while putting the jug of milk back into the refrigerator.
"So you aren't seeing him?"
Nicole chuckled as she walked barefoot across the living room floor with the glass of milk in hand. "No. He's just my boss and sometimes friend. Why the sudden interest Stu?"
"Sometimes friend," he questioned with a raised eyebrow.
"Yeah. When he's not being weird and acting like he does in the tabloids."
"Fascinating," Stu deadpanned.
"Are you intentionally acting like Spock from Star Trek?"
"Indeed. It's my favorite show."
Nicole laughed and handed him the glass of milk. "Well you're doing a wonderful job. Coincidentally, its one of mine too."
Stuart took the glass of milk and raised it in thanks. "You don't say? So you're absolutely certain nothing is going on with you and Wayne?"
"Why do you want to know so badly?"
"I think that you should read this," Stuart said as he held up the front page of the paper for her to read.
Nicole gasped.
Alfred was busy making breakfast in the kitchen, as he did every morning. He half-heartedly put the various ingredients of Bruce's monstrous concoction into the blender and cringed, wondering how any sane person could ever drink the putrid smelling potion. But then again, he often wondered about Bruce Wayne's sanity in general, especially since he had donned the mask of the Batman.
His worries were not unfounded. He had seen lesser men encounter the same burdens that Bruce bore and had seen their souls shattered into a million pieces. Bruce had lost nearly everyone that he had ever loved, himself one of the few exceptions. And if that weren't enough to drive a man toward insanity, add the constant lack of sleep and guilt to the mixture and a soul could be well on its way. In fact, he had briefly thought Bruce had gone insane those few short years ago when he'd told Alfred of his plan to become Batman.
Alfred sat the vile green potion on wooden tray before adorning it with toast and grapefruit. Unrolling the Gotham Daily, he wasn't surprised the see the headline exclaiming that Bruce Wayne had a new lover—that was a weekly staple in their lives. After examining the photo, however, his interest was perked. The photo itself was rather common place; an amusement park photo that could have belonged to anyone in America. Only the faces didn't belong to just anyone. Staring at the photo, he examined Bruce first.
As a boy, he had taken his young charge to Amusement Mile and knew of his love of roller coasters, well his love of anything fast and dangerous really. In fact, he often rolled his eyes at some of the things Batman did (he'd listen to the stories of his first few jumps from atop massive skyscrapers while testing his cape and had immediately felt his heart stop) and knew that it was rooted in Bruce's nature to pursue such activities, with or without a costume. So the fact that Bruce was on a roller coaster wasn't surprising in the slightest. His face, however, bore a slightly different expression than one you would find of a passenger on an extreme ride.
No doubt many would view the cool and collected face of Bruce Wayne as he hurtled down the track of Gotham's highest rollercoaster as one of intense shock. And they would be wrong. Knowing his master well, he was able to view the intensity of one that radiated contentment. He had no doubt that Bruce was having a great time and was having a wonderful time as he held hands with the young woman next to him. Moreover, he recognized that young woman as Bruce's assistant, who at that moment in time was quite simply terrified and holding on for dear life.
While that picture might have been incriminating enough by itself, the one beside it, showing two young ladies and his charge eating carnival food and smiling seemed to seal the deal and spoke volumes to the reader, as if saying "if he wasn't dating his assistant, why would he sit with such lowly people?"
Shaking his head, Alfred laid the paper on the tray and journeyed up the newly built staircase to bring his charge breakfast. Alfred hoped that this article didn't end the budding friendship. It was his intuition that told him that if Bruce let her, this young woman could be his redemption. And for the sake of Bruce Wayne's sanity, he prayed that his young charge would find redemption from the ghosts that haunted him.
Opening the door slowly, Alfred scurried into the room, setting the tray on a nearby table. Without hesitation, he opened the blinds, letting the bright sunlight into the room, causing his master to wince as the harsh light assaulted his closed eyes.
"Bats are still nocturnal," Bruce said with light humor, debating whether or not to dive back into the pillows as he slowly rose to a sitting position.
"And a playboy CEO with a business to run is not, Master Wayne."
"You enjoy reminding me don't you?"
"Of course, sir. If I may, you might want to drink that vile poison and eat your breakfast, as the morning seems to be escaping you rather quickly."
Bruce smirked at the description of his shake until he began drinking it. At least Alfred hadn't experimented with it this morning, he thought as he chugged the shake.
"Sir. Might I warn you, that there is a rather interesting article on the front page of the Daily."
Giving Alfred a sideways glance, Bruce unfolded the paper and sighed as he saw the picture. "One of the photo booth attendants must have sold a copy to the Daily."
"Am I to assume that Miss Miller won't be pleased by this new development?"
"I highly doubt it."
"I see. As it is, sir, might I suggest you go easy on the young lady today, especially considering the unfortunate circumstances that she now finds herself in?"
Bruce nodded in agreement. "I will. Thank you, Alfred."
"Of course, sir. Might I also suggest that you get a move on? Lucius won't be happy if you miss your meeting ," Alfred stated with a knowing glance before dismissing himself, leaving Bruce Wayne to confront the morning alone.
From the moment she entered Wayne Tower, she knew that Tuesday was not going to be a pleasant day. One scathing look from Wanda, the plump brunette from behind the front desk, told her that people had indeed recognized her from the photos in Gotham Daily. Moreover, even if they didn't recognize, the author had done such a wonderful job of spilling her identity to the public that her fellow employees would have no trouble identifying her.
Walking into the elevator, with Stuart, dressed in street attire, at her heels, she was thankful that the lobby was experiencing a lull in the morning rush, enabling her to share the elevator with just two other men aside from Stuart. As the doors closed, she was thankful that the men largely ignored her. Briefly stopping at the 15th floor, both employees exited through the cool silver doors heading to various cubicles, leaving Stuart and Nicole alone.
"Since you're my bodyguard, you have to protect me from harm right?"
"Of course. The Calendar Killer will have a hard time of it if he tries to take you from Wayne Tower with so many people around," Stuart reminded.
"He may not have a victim to take once Bruce Wayne's fan club rips me from limb to limb. Didn't you see Wanda?"
"Indeed I did. She looked as if she personally wanted to tear your face off," Stuart replied bluntly.
"Thanks Stu. That made it so much better."
"You did ask, you know."
Shaking her head with a smirk, Nicole found that she didn't have a reply for him and waited for the doors to reveal the executive lobby, plushly decorated in modern chic. Nicole emerged, walking briskly to her desk as she always did in the mornings. She placed her green messenger bag against the wall so that it wasn't in the way of the rolling leather desk chair. Turning to the organized desk, Nicole pushed the power button on the new black Dell computer and waited patiently for the welcome screen to load as she sat in her office chair, thankful that it was comfortable.
Stuart casually walked around the floor, peering in darkened office windows, as it was still too early for most executives to drag themselves into work. Once his curiosity was satisfied and he was sure there wasn't anyone around that wasn't supposed to be there, he returned to Nicole's side, pulling over a chair from the waiting area. He was vaguely aware that the decorations were not unlike what you would find in an upscale doctor's office, which wasn't very surprising considering Wayne Enterprises seemed to spare little expense when it came to keeping their customers happy. He was, however, thankful that the chairs weren't uncomfortable. He watched Nicole as the light blue welcome screen with the Wayne Enterprises insignia popped up and she quickly entered her password, her fingers flying over the correct keys with a speed that surprised him.
"Have you always worked in an office," Stuart asked.
"Hm?"
"It seems like you're good at this type of thing. You're a fast typist."
"Oh. No, I've had a few odd jobs, but office work isn't something I've really wanted to do. I was always tech savvy though and used some sort of electronic device. I suppose my typing skills developed over time," she answered as she began to navigate the mouse throughout the home screen, eventually settling the arrow over an e-mail icon before clicking it.
"If you never wanted to work in an office, why did you accept a business internship?"
"Well, I had an internship at Wayne Aerospace but there was a mistake; they accepted two people for only one available internship. So, they created a new one since the former assistant would be on maternity leave for a while and gave it to me."
"So you're interested in aviation then?"
"I am. It's a passion of mine. In fact, I have a lesson this Friday with an aerobatic instructor that I suppose you'll be accompanying me on. That is, if I'm still allowed to go."
Stuart smiled. "I think I can arrange that, since I'm a fellow pilot."
Nicole returned the smile, thinking that if she had to be stuck with a bodyguard at least he was an interesting one.
"Who's that," Stuart asked, motioning the tall feminine figure, stepping off the elevator and staring at Nicole as if she were prey.
"That's Stephanie, Mr. Sanders' secretary," Nicole said in a low voice that only the two could hear.
"She's burning a hole through your head."
"Yeah, she's leader of Bruce Wayne's fan club."
"She looks like a Barbie Doll," Stuart remarked sardonically as he stared at the approaching blonde with candy pink lips to match her pink skirt and jacket set, which of course, was adorned with stiletto heels. He was half surprised her briefcase wasn't pink as well, but brown leather instead.
Nicole suppressed her laughter and smiled at Stephanie.
"Why, Nicole, dear, what have you been keeping from me," Stephanie asked, plastering a smile that never met her eyes.
"I'm not sure what you mean."
"Surely you've read this morning's paper, dear."
"Oh. That."
"Why didn't you tell us that you've been sleeping with Bruce Wayne," Stephanie bluntly said with a trace of malice in her sweet toned voice.
"Er, because I'm not?"
"I see. I suppose the papers have it wrong then?"
"Pretty much."
"So, then there would be no reason why you were caught holding hands I suppose," Stephanie innocently insinuated.
Nicole wanted to strangle the secretary but before she could retort Stephanie smiled and replied, "Have a good day Nikki," and was off, strutting toward Mr. Sanders' office.
Stuart stared after her until she rounded the corner. "Well, I see what you meant by being ripped apart. I think she just verbally castrated you."
Nicole mimicked Stuart and raised an eyebrow.
"You know, if you had balls."
"I see. Oh, she'll be back to finish the job, don't worry. She's the queen of office gossip and is quite likely putting some spin of her own on the story."
"Why is she carrying a briefcase? It seems kind of pointless."
"She's office Barbie. She comes with accessories to make her feel important, the personality of a pit viper, and she's equipped with the power of flirtation to seduce executives into her bed. Apparently, she hasn't succeeded with Bruce Wayne. I'm not sure whether I should commend him for resisting her or not."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Stuart replied scathingly.
"Of what."
"That Wayne hasn't done the nasty with her, he sleeps with everything else."
"Okay. Where did that come from?"
"Think about it Nicole, he's Bruce Wayne and he's always in the papers for that sort of thing. He's got the moral compass of a troll."
"Weren't you the one telling me I shouldn't always believe rumors, Stu?"
Stuart sighed. "That was about a murderer parading around as a giant bat. This is Bruce Wayne, the guy that burnt down his own family home when he was drunk."
"By that logic, it would seem that the papers would be right about Bruce and I," Nicole spat.
"Nicole, that's not what I meant. Think about it how he acts, his playboy antics, the type of people that he dates. I have no respect for people without morals."
Nicole scrunched up her nose, not quite understanding her need to defend Bruce when she had once thought similar things of him. "Maybe he really isn't what he seems. Why do you care, anyway?"
"Because you were just linked to him in an immoral way. Because he didn't seem to give a rat's ass about you yesterday when we told you both that you were a target. He wasn't even affected by that. And he's not a moral guy. If there was any truth to what that article said, then you don't need to be dragged down by someone like that. You seem like a great girl and to be honest, when this whole thing is over, I've been thinking of asking you out," he added thoughtfully.
"You've known me for three days."
Stuart laughed. "That's your concern? Can you honestly say you haven't felt a connection with me in these three days?"
"Aren't you supposed to be protecting me, not asking me on a date? Isn't that some sort of violation of ethics?"
"I'm being honest, and sincere with you. And I won't bring it up again while I'm here in an official capacity. But know that I will protect you, no matter what."
Nicole didn't know whether to be touched by his thoughtfulness or to bolt for the door at his sobered intensity. She had felt a connection to Stuart but hadn't given much thought to it. She had assumed it was just a budding friendship.
"Good morning," a familiar voice chimed, causing her to jump slightly. She had neither seen nor heard him approaching.
"Good morning, Mr. Wayne. You're here early," Nicole responded, taking in the freshly groomed appearance of the man dressed in a fine Armani suit. She had never seen him anything but the finest tailored business suits and briefly wondered if he owned anything else.
Bruce gave her a grin. "Well, I'm told it's my company. You're here rather earlier than usual as well"
"I needed to finish up some of the notes for today's meeting. I suppose they would appreciate having them during the actual meeting."
Bruce chuckled lightly. "I never really know what's going on in those things anyway. Your notes are always appreciated by me."
Nicole rolled her eyes at his blatant flirting.
"Oh, Officer Mitchell! I didn't notice you sitting in the corner. I was beginning to think you'd left Miss Miller alone," Bruce commented, with a lightness that he never felt. Of course, he had noticed Stuart all along, but after overhearing their conversation, hadn't felt like addressing the younger man.
"Mr. Wayne," Stuart nodded politely.
"Mr. Wayne," Nicole started. She was unsure if she should broach the subject of this morning's article. What would she say? That she was sorry there was a nasty rumor going around about the two of them sleeping together?
"Yes?"
Deciding that he most likely hadn't read the paper this morning since he hadn't mentioned it, she opted for safer ground. "Mr. Wayne, is there anything I can get for you this morning?"
"No…thank you. I'll be in my office until the meeting with Mr. Fox," he added, sensing that her statement had not been her first choice.
Nicole nodded and watched as Bruce walked nonchalantly toward his office. Once he entered and closed the door, she turned to Stuart.
"Well, Nicole, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
She didn't say anything. Instead she left Stuart in silence, her brain full of confusion as her thoughts threatened to overcome her. She was being hunted by a murderer which terrified her. Stuart was not only a somewhat socially awkward bodyguard, but one that was developing feelings for her. She had felt a connection to the officer, but was unable to decipher just what it was. And she knew that she was starting to like Bruce despite her decision not to do so. It was an involuntary reaction to the brief moments she had seen his true face. She would not have defended him so diligently if she hadn't changed her mind about him. Deep down, she thought he was a great person, even though she still didn't know what to make of his playboy persona.
Her head was full of confusion, but one thing was clear. She needed to complete these notes for the meeting at noon and she wasn't getting anything done just sitting here, examining her feelings for the two very different men in her proximity. With renewed vigor, she dove into writing the notes, pushing everything from her mind, and leaving her safety to Stuart's own devices.
Bruce Wayne silently closed the door to his office, thankful the shades were still drawn, giving him some semblance of privacy. He'd overheard the conversation between his assistant and her would-be protector. It didn't bother him that Stuart heartily disliked him; many people continuously judged him based on his playboy persona. It bothered him that Stuart all but asked his assistant out on a date; something he'd briefly thought about in his most private moments before pushing it to the back of his mind. It bothered him that she had defended what little of his true character that she had seen. Moreover, it bothered him that he didn't want to lie to her.
It had started from the first day that he'd met her. She wasn't like many of the other assistants that he'd had or met throughout his tenure at the corporate headquarters. She wasn't throwing herself at him. In fact, she didn't seem to care about him at all, which he found surprisingly refreshing. At first he'd began teasing and flirting with her, as part of the act. Instead of falling at his feet she had put him in his place. Multiple times, in fact. But despite her sarcasm and complete naivety, there was a softness and wisdom about her. He'd observed her, often, when she wasn't looking. She was the most professional assistant that he'd had and often went above her own duties, helping others around her. And somewhere along the line, the banter had turned personal for him.
The day he had discovered her at the airport, it was if he had seen her for the first time. She was wide-eyed and full of wonder, the ruddiness of her cheeks and simple attire only enhancing her attractiveness. He'd always known that she was smart but was surprised by her wide array of knowledge that many of the girls that he'd dated lacked. There was a depth to her that he couldn't quite explain. Quite honestly, he reminded her of Rachel as a teenager. And maybe that was what initially attracted him to her.
He'd seen her outside of work only twice since then, and she had proven that she was Nicole, not Rachel. And somewhere in between playing the playboy and showing his true persona, he'd found that Alfred's words were true—he'd begun having fun by accident. In fact, he felt more alive around Nicole than he had felt since Rachel's untimely demise. He wasn't so sure he wanted to let that go just yet. And maybe that was what was really bothering him.
Yawning from lack of sleep, he opened the blinds that covered the window protecting him from the outside world, and let the morning sunlight stream in to brighten the room. He settled quietly at his desk, opening the combination lock on his expensive briefcase before removing his documents.
The first folder contained background checks of all of the men that Gordon had assigned to watch over Nicole. Gordon may have trusted all of his men but he had also trusted Wuertz and Ramirez. He felt it prudent to run his own background check on the men. The last thing they needed was for one of the officers to be bribed by the Calendar Killer for access. After all, in a city where so many could be bribed, he wasn't taking any chances. As his fingers grazed a document jutting out of the thick folder, he opened it up, to put it back in its place only to see the face of the young man sitting in the executive lobby.
Stuart Mitchell was an all around great guy from what he could tell. He'd graduated high school a year early with many awards and had attended Gotham University to major in engineering of all things. He'd received his Bachelor of Science degree and immediately joined the police force. According to the psych profile, it had something to do with the violent death of a friend. Nothing really stuck out of his profile; he'd been an Eagle Scout, on the cross country team throughout high school, an expert marksman on the rifle team in college, was a dedicated pilot himself, and was deeply religious and moral. Still, something about him grated on Bruce's nerves that he couldn't identify.
He slid the paper back into its proper place and continued on with his search until he came to the proper folder. Sliding it out, he opened it to reveal a map of the Narrows, indicating the areas in which the killer may have been trolling the streets. He had made a copy to give to Gordon as well as one to give to Lucius Fox at their meeting later. With witnesses to place the killer in the Narrows and knowledge that one of the victims had washed ashore downriver, there was an indication that the killer could be using an abandoned structure as his hideout. With Gordon and Fox both searching abandoned properties for him to investigate, they might find the serial killer faster.
Closing the folder and laying it on his desk, Bruce checked his watch. He still had time before his meeting with Lucius. Pulling out a different folder from his briefcase, he decided that it was time to look over information about the merger meeting that was coming up soon.