[Happy New Year Everyone!]

Chapter 12 – The Billionaire's Mistress

Gotham City

One month after the raid on Dr. Fenderbrake's house…

With the fall of the curtain, and the roar of the crowd's third and final standing ovation ringing in their ears, Zatanna Zatara and her fellow artists rushed backstage after their final bows, laughing, eager to celebrate with the after-party following her final Gotham City show. Her shows had proved a great hit, as nearly all had sold-out, and with glowing reviews from the fans and the critics. Zatanna felt she had done really well with her new act, her crew had performed flawlessly as usual, not missing a beat. Now, it was time to party!

Someone handed her a towel to wipe off the sweat, which she accepted gratefully. She paused a moment to observe everything. Backstage was crowded with people: friends and relatives of her crew, and lots of Gotham City's most famous artists and celebrities in attendance. A DJ was setting up his equipment. Champagne was popped and flowing liberally, and there were big trays of fancy desserts circulating; there was a good vibe to everything, she saw.

Zatanna spotted local TV personality Vicky Vale interviewing her manager Charly off in a corner. She'd done an interview with her when she began her run in Gotham. She was a nice-enough person, although Zatanna knew she would be more than happy to broadcast any juicy scandal if she could uncover one.

Vale hadn't asked any questions about Bruce Wayne then; she was probably kicking herself now, ever since it become public that they were something of an "item." No doubt, she would try to snag her for another interview if she could. Zatanna hurried in the opposite direction.

She didn't see Bruce, although he'd promised to be here. She hadn't seen him in the audience either. As far as she knew, he'd only attended her debut show, although she was well-aware he'd kept an eye on the venue, "just in case" he'd said. She couldn't imagine why, no one really knew she was associated with the Justice League, although with the Joker's recent escape from Arkham Asylum, he was taking no chances. But nothing had happened.

However it would be just like the suspicious old fart if he was watching her this very second. She knew he was keeping her under surveillance, although he never said so…and it wasn't solely for her protection, as ever since she had moved into the Manor, a month ago…

Zatanna was startled to see Superman storm into the sickbay on the Watchtower, she'd thought he was on hiatus in the Midwest or somewhere. He was in 'normal' clothes, but now they were torn and splattered with blood. Wonder Woman was close behind, also dressed in civilian clothes and carrying a bawling Jon in her arms. Before she could say anything he confronted Bruce, and he did not look happy.

"What's wrong?"

"You tell me," Clark growled. "You're in charge of Wayne Enterprises, or aren't you?"

From what Zatanna could follow, something terrible had happened at Clark's work-camp in the Dakotas: a massive explosion devastated the camp and many people were injured or killed. Superman and Wonder Woman witnessed it up close. It was all in some way related to Bruce's business: some bigshot director or other had ordered drilling and it had gone very wrong. It all sounded horrific to her. Now, Clark wanted answers.

"My God," Zatanna had gasped in shock. "You could have been killed!"

J'onn J'onzz spoke up gently. "We have our members helping to evacuate the rest of the camp, although the cause of the disaster will take some time to uncover."

"I know the cause!" Clark still sounded very pissed off. "Your flunky ordered us to drill and he was very insistent it be done right away. What was he looking for there? What's going on?"

"I don't know," Bruce had looked very grave, and a little perturbed as well. "I wasn't aware of any important project Wayne Enterprises is involved there."

"You don't know what your own employees are doing?" Clark sounded skeptical.

Bruce's eyes narrowed. "I mean I don't micromanage them. But I promise you, I'll get answers."

"He was looking for something, and in a hurry," Clark insisted. "He wouldn't wait, and then…then we saw something…"

"What?" Diana stared at him, surprised. She hadn't known this. "What are you talking about?"

"We were drilling way below the deepest level, too far, it wasn't stable…there shouldn't have been anything down there but we'd broken into…into something, down there, and there was a…there was a face…or something, I saw something…then everything exploded."

"A face?" Zatanna and Diana exchanged glances, stunned. "What happened after that?" Zatanna asked, puzzled

But Clark's anger had turned to confusion, and his voice had started to slur with dizziness.

"You might have a concussion," Bruce interrupted. "You couldn't have seen anything. We better get you checked out."

"No!" Clark barked. "I did see something – we all did – and then everything just blew up. The next thing I knew, everything was on fire. There were bodies, all over…dead…"

Diana placed a calming hand on his shoulder. Zatanna noticed it was trembling a little. "Your co-workers are alive, Clark, they've been taken to the hospital."

"John Henry too?"

"He's in the hospital," Diana said reassuringly, but Zatanna saw in her eyes that it must not be good, whoever this John Henry was.

"The injured have been taken to trauma centers throughout the state," J'onn J'onzz said. "Now, we need to have a look at you."

Clark still resisted. "No! No…I need to get back out there, help..."

"Absolutely not," Bruce's voice was commanding as usual. "You're staying here and letting J'onn look at you."

Clark had looked ready to keep fighting, but then he just looked very exhausted and sad.

"I'm fine," Clark insisted, but no sooner had he spoken then he collapsed into a chair, conveniently made out of a certain individual who seemed to flow up from the deck.

"Thanks, Plas," Clark managed to murmur.

"No problem," O'Brien replied in his thick Irish brogue. "Hey, I just wanted to say thanks for letting me in the team! You have no idea what this means to me, I've always wanted to try out for…um, I think you're bleeding on me."

"I'm fine," Clark insisted, but he looked very faint. Diana grasped him quickly before he fell over.

"You're being delusional, mate!" Plastic Man said. "C'mon, lemme help you…"

"Listen to him, Clark," Diana pleaded. "I can go back and help with the rescue operation."

"No, you can't go! Not in your condition."

"'Condition?'" Bruce stared at Clark, then Diana.

"Oh…yes, we might as well tell you now," the Amazon's face flushed. "I, ah, I'm going to have a baby, again."

Seeing the look on Bruce's face, and with Jon crying even louder, and more people flooding into the room, Zatanna considered that moment a good time to make an exit. She headed for the Monitor Womb, unnoticed. She would file her after-action report and go home. She'd had enough for one day. Everyone seemed to have forgotten her and Bruce's mission for the moment, and she was fine with that.

She filed her report, but before she could leave Bruce found her.

His cowl was pushed back from his head, revealing his sweat-matted hair, and his tight, unhappy face. He clearly was having a not-so-merry night what with Fenderbrake escaping from his grasp, and then this weird thing with Superman, and Wonder Woman effectively announcing she was soon going to be sidelined too because she was pregnant again.

"How's Superman?" She asked peremptorily.

"He's going to be fine," he replied shortly. "Never mind that - I need to talk to you. Where are you going?"

"I told you, I have to go home. I do have a career outside the Justice League, you know? My new show opens in Gotham City in a week, and I still have a lot of prep work to do."

Bruce went on as if he hadn't heard her. "Did you hear what Superman and Wonder Woman said back there?"

"I'm not deaf, of course I heard. I'm just glad he's going to be ok." She looked at him carefully. "I wonder about you though."

Bruce looked surprised, although she couldn't imagine why. "About me? Why?"

"You know why."

Zatanna turned away, but Bruce took her arm. "Wait, Zee. I didn't finish what I was going to say to you, before."

She looked at him apprehensively. "What?"

"Come stay at the Manor, with me."

Zatanna's thoughts were distracted as many well-wishers came up to congratulate and compliment her. She acknowledged them all graciously. Her eyes widened in pleasure at the approach of an older lady. She held out her hands.

"Leslie? Thank you so much for coming!"

"My dear, it was a marvelous show! I wouldn't have missed it for anything!" Dr. Leslie Thompkins, Bruce's old family doctor, took Zatanna's hands and squeezed them warmly. "I must say I was just stunned when you did those illusions, I can't imagine how you did them! I've never seen anything like that in my life!"

Zatanna smiled modestly. "Well, I'm so glad you enjoyed it!"

"I wonder if I ever told you before, I once saw your father perform too, oh that must have been years ago, in New York City, I think. An amazing man. I'm sure he would be very proud of you today."

She would have liked to hear more about that, but then she saw the doctor's attention diverted. She heard before she saw the reason: a familiar voice echoed above the hum of the conversation, a rather loud and obnoxious laughter. She recognized the voice.

A titter ran through the assembled crowd as the crowd recognized Bruce Wayne. He was hard to miss: although he was dressed impeccably, he managed to look a little disheveled, as if he'd been bar-hopping for hours before arriving. His face was flushed and he was grinning - smirking - broadly. He looked more than a little out of place among the artist-dominated crowd. However, as a well-known patron of the arts in Gotham City, it wasn't all that unusual for him to be at performances, although maybe performances a bit more 'high-brow' than a magic show. Around him, people rolled their eyes. His caught hers and he waved.

"Zatanna!" He called out to get her attention, a little too loudly. "Hey, Zatanna!"

Oh dear," Dr. Leslie Thompkins tutted. "The boy's drunk again. I'm so sorry, I really should have a word with him someday, his behavior is just really too much…"

Zatanna listened to the retired doctor complain about Bruce's behavior and she tried not to laugh aloud. She was the only person here who knew Bruce was never really drunk in public, or drunk at all for that matter, but he could act the part quite believably. She had learned quite a bit about how well he could play a role. But sometimes it was difficult even for her to tell when he wasn't acting.

Once she'd gotten over her surprise she had tried to turn him down. "When I'm on tour, I stay with my crew."

"You're not on tour, you're just playing Gotham City," Bruce pointed out. "Yes, I know, you can just transport yourself back to Shadowcrest whenever you want, but it would be easier for you to stay in Gotham City, for appearances' sake."

"That's not really why-"

"Anyway, I need your help, Zee."

"Help with what? I told you what I thought about your occult 'research.' Or is it that you just want me where you can keep your eyes on me?" She folded her arms and stared at him defiantly.

"I know what you said," Bruce was nothing if not persistent. "I gave you my reasons. You can help me, or not, it's your choice but I hope you'll change your mind."

He moved closer to her, his expression changed, and she felt her throat tighten, as he stared intensely down at her. His hand drifted to hers and caught her clenched fingers, not letting them go. She felt her throat go dry.

"And…you're right. I do want you where I can keep an eye on you. I really want you to stay with me, at least for a little while. I would like that very much, Zee. Will you?"

She'd looked up into his eyes. She felt like she could lose herself in them. Zatanna usually could read people like a book but not him. She found that she couldn't respond and her words stuck in her throat.

"Please think about it."

So she did, and for not very long at that. She felt she needed to keep an eye on him too, after what he had done at Fenderbrake's house…

"What's he doing here?"

Zatanna realized that Charly was standing next to her and was giving Bruce the evil eye. Dr. Thompkins went off to do some damage control, presumably. Her manager had never warmed up to Bruce, avoiding him the few times he visited the studio.

She was less than thrilled, if that were possible, after she'd learned what Zatanna had done. Normally, she didn't care what Zatanna did in her personal life, as long as it didn't affect her career negatively, but something about Bruce rubbed her the wrong way. It wasn't jealousy, Zatanna knew, but her manager's almost uncanny perceptiveness – she knew Bruce was hiding something, and that got Charly's conspiracy-centered mind going.

Not to mention that once it became known that Bruce Wayne, the billionaire scion of one of Gotham's established families, was effectively Zatanna's patron, problems with permits and fees and licenses that had initially plagued Charly in setting up the logistics for her shows had miraculous dissipated overnight. That irritated her, to her it was the "1%" throwing their money and influence around.

"What kind of place is this?" She had complained.

Zatanna had tried to blow it off. "I guess that's just how things are done in Gotham City."

"I don't like it," Charly complained. "What does he want from you? Oh I think I know, but the way he's going about it...it's like he owns you now or something!"

"Oh, it's nothing like that. He's just a friend."

"Friend with benefits," Her assistant Mikail had snipped. He couldn't help it – he'd noticed the lavish gift boxes that arrived on a regular basis to Zatanna's dressing room. Zatanna had tried telling Bruce not to do that but it was like talking to a brick wall. "He's certainly the charmer!"

Zatanna would have liked to tell Charly the truth, she didn't like keeping secrets from her friend, but it was just too dangerous to reveal it to her. It didn't make her feel any better though.

"He's picking me up tonight." She replied as nonchalantly as possible.

Charly stared at her. "You're going home with him? You're not going back to San Francisco? I thought you said this all was only 'temporary.'"

"It is! I mean…" She shrugged, helplessly. "I haven't made any plans, yet. It's not like I'm moving away."

Her manager shook her head with some exasperation. "I really thought this was just some fling you were indulging yourself in. So, are things really serious between the two of you?"

"I…I, yes…well…" Zatanna was starting to feel a little flustered - but truth be told, she wasn't sure herself.

So she had moved into the Manor, just a "temporary stay" she'd told everybody, although she didn't tell anyone in the Justice League (except for Dinah, who probably told Oliver, who probably told everyone else, no doubt, so that point was moot). She couldn't help but wonder how Alfred had reacted when Bruce told him she would be the new tenant. The English butler displayed absolutely no surprise when she turned up at the door with a bunch of bags, but there was something in his demeanor that suggested he Didn't Quite Approve…in that reserved English butler sort of way of course.

It wasn't like she was sharing Bruce's room 24/7, which was something of a relief - she valued her privacy, apparently just as much as he did his. Instead, he had showed her several large rooms, each one larger than most city apartments. She was surprised to see the furniture there, mostly turn-of-the-century New England, antique but still very nice, and she wondered how long they'd sat unused. An Antiques Roadshow dealer would go nuts in there.

"These used to be rooms for visiting relatives, back when there were actually relatives. They haven't been used in years. I had Alfred air them out and change the linens, so don't worry about dust." Bruce explained casually, as if he had visitors staying over all the time, which she was certain he didn't.

"I'm, um, sure they're fine," Zatanna said. "Bruce, this is all very nice of you but I'm going to be very busy down at the studio so I probably won't even be here that often…"

"That's all right. I just want you to feel at home when you are."

He'd smiled at her, and she thought he was perhaps at his most relaxed that she'd seen, perhaps even since that first night when they'd first…anyway, he didn't mention his work once that day…or his 'studies.' He actually seemed quite…normal, for a change.

It made her wary but she smiled back at him. "I think I'm going to like being here, with you too. We'll definitely get to know each other even better!" She ran a suggestive finger down the front of his shirt. "I imagine you'll take full opportunity of me being here at night." Zatanna thought she might relish that opportunity. This might not be so strange after all.

Bruce sighed. "Well, it may be that I'm not going to be here that often myself, as least not at first. I need to find out just what's going on with that incident at that camp. I'm leaving tonight, by the way."

"What?" Zatanna hadn't expected this. "How long will you be gone?"

"Hopefully not more than a day or two, unless I discover something that needs attention. Alfred will take care of anything you need. Alfred!" He shouted very loudly, startling her.

"No need to shout Master Bruce, I'm right here." The butler had a way of appearing almost soundlessly, like magic, thought Zatanna bemusedly. "Is anything required?"

"Please show Zee around the Manor. I'll be leaving for Fargo tonight. I'll be taking the company jet this time. Zee, I'll see you tomorrow, or the day after." He'd kissed her, a quick peck on the cheek, and just like that he was gone, leaving her alone with the unsmiling butler.

"So," Zatanna said, feeling more than a little awkward in the sudden silence. "What do you two do for fun around here? Other than hanging out in the Batcave, I mean?"

"Mr. Wayne doesn't strike me as the 'serious' type," Charly's voice took Zatanna out of her thoughts again. "Do you know what that Vale woman was going to call her article? 'The Billionaire's Mistress!'"

"What? It's nothing like that!"

"Yeah, I think you have to be having a fling with a married man to be an actual mistress, unless your income's a certain level. Well, it's nothing compared to what's already been written about you two in the other tabloids. Don't worry I convinced her to change it, that is, if she wanted to get another interview with you. But makes for a good story, doesn't it? It's what people want to read, like she said. He certainly treats you like a queen what with all those gifts of bling, which I have to say is much better than how John treated you, I can't argue with that."

"Oh God don't bring him into this-"

"At least this Wayne guy has money and isn't always sponging on you, like that cheating bastard. He still keeps sending stuff to everyone in the crew too, did you know that? I wonder if he'll keep it up."

Zatanna knew that, of course. Bruce had gotten the idea in his pointy head to ingratiate himself with her eclectic crew, sending gift baskets and other goodies almost daily, until she swore most of them had gained at least ten pounds during their sojourn in Gotham. When she asked him why he did it he just shrugged and said something about 'maintaining their identities' whatever that had to do with it.

She snatched a champagne flute from a passing tray and downed half of it, feeling she needed it. She watched Bruce as he mingled about with her artist friends and staff. Perhaps half of them had come to really like him, especially Mikail (who had a massive crush on him), the other half regarded him at best as an affable pest, not really offensive but someone tolerated only because he was generous, and because of Zatanna, their boss.

"That's ridiculous," she protested. "Bruce isn't like…"

Zatanna bit her tongue. It still all came down to this façade she had to put up, thanks to her participation with the Justice League. She wasn't used to it. It wasn't the same as hiding her true magickal powers. Perhaps that was what he meant about maintenance and all that.

"Vale told me some interesting things about him," Charly's eyes never left Bruce, who was gradually making his way towards them. "I could tell she still has feelings for him, but she was afraid of him too, although she didn't come right out and say so."

"Really? Why?"

"She really couldn't describe it, just a feeling he had, like he was hiding something, something unpleasant and dangerous. Anyway, you can ask her yourself, when you do that interview with her. By the way, that's on for tomorrow afternoon at two."

"She doesn't know what she's talking about, he's not dangerous." Even as she said those words, she realized that it wasn't quite true. He was very dangerous indeed, at least to his enemies.

Charly seemed to see that hesitation in her face and immediately honed in on it. "He hasn't, like, done anything to you, has he? You would tell me, wouldn't you?"

"Of course I would. But there's nothing going on like that. You know I can take care of myself."

"I know you can," Charly said. "That's what I'm worried about."

Alfred had dutifully given her the grand tour of Wayne Manor; although she'd been here before, she'd realized only seen a small part of it, now she saw just how grand it was. It was truly a magnificent example of turn-of-the-last-century architecture. Alfred seemed to take great pride and pleasure in describing the minutia of every room and its furnishings, all the while giving a history of the Manor itself.

During his 'tour' he had subtly dropped hints about which places of the Manor were essentially 'off-limits' to her: the library, in particular, which he had not bothered to show her, even though she'd already been inside, or any of the secret entrances to the Batcave, although she'd been there too.

"What about the kitchen?" Zatanna said playfully, when he detoured past it. "I bet it looks like something on the Food Channel!"

"If you require any meals or refreshments, I shall be at your disposal," Alfred replied in a stiff tone and what she also heard (unspoken) was: "Simply because you are now a guest here, that does not mean you may have free run of the place. And keep your smelly Italian cooking out of my kitchen, you."

Zatanna sighed. She didn't want to aggravate Alfred, she well knew he could be a quite formidable opponent in his own way, when he wanted to be. But for all Alfred's encyclopedic knowledge, such a big house for only two people was a little dreary.

They had come to one room, which did make Zatanna's eyes widen. She thought of it as the 'War Room' – the walls were decorated with weapons: swords, maces, antique rifles, and lined with suits of armor from medieval times. There was even samurai armor from Japan, and a mannequin dressed in a colorful Zulu warrior costume.

"What are these? Bruce's backup suits?"

She had meant to make a joke but Alfred acted as if she was serious.

"Certainly not, Miss Zatara, these are for display only. These pieces are not meant to be used, or worn, anymore that is, although I assure you that these are all genuine artifacts. This collection was actually started by Bruce's great-grandfather, who possessed something of the hoarding yen. As you see, the majority of the collection consists of ceremonial jousting armor, mostly manufactured in Europe during the Renaissance Period…"

Zatanna wondered about that. Her eyes were drawn to one particular suit of armor situated by the door, an elaborate suit of plate armor with a menacing slitted helmet and visor that looked too shiny and clean to have ever been worn by an actual knight on horseback. She pointed to it.

"Even this one?"

"Ah!" Alfred seemed to warm up to his subject. "Your suspicions are partially confirmed, Miss Zatana. Yes, 90% of this suit is of recent origin, specifically it is an early 19th-century reproduction based on a model of Crusader armor from the twelfth century, known to have once been owned by a Wayne ancestor."

While Alfred lectured on about its provenance, Zatanna's eyes were drawn to a piece of the shoulder armor and forearm guard. They clearly stood out as not fitting neatly with the rest of the reproduction as they were darker in color and clearly worn with use and age.

"You said 90% of this was fake, but what about these bits?"

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "You are referring to the pauldron and the vambrance? Yes, those pieces were all that remained of the original suit, which was lost and misplaced over the centuries. The elder Wayne commissioned the reproduction so it may be displayed as close as possible like the original."

Zatanna wondered about that. Just because it was old didn't mean it was real. Perhaps Alfred was just trying to impress her. But something about that forearm piece bothered her. The dark splotch on the leather looked to her like…

"You mean it was really worn, in battle?"

"Yes, quite possibly. I see you have noticed the bloodstain. Of course, it is impossible to verify with certainty if the stain occurred due to battle but it is family lore that a branch of the Wayne family fought…"

Later, she couldn't say why she felt the urge to touch the ugly, worn piece of leather. She really didn't have a skill for psychometry and its related abilities, but sometimes she was able to get a sense of a thing's history, a small talent she sometimes employed for her work with the San Francisco PD. She would later tell herself she just wanted to find out if the piece was real or not.

She reached out and touched the vambrace, lightly, just with her fingertips.

At first she felt nothing, only how cold and stiff the material was. Then, very fast, faster than any other time she had ever touched an object in this way, she felt faint and then a gray whiteness enveloped her, like she'd dove headfirst into a cloudbank. Abruptly she was bereft of time and space. She had the nonsensical feeling that she was suspended in a fog, hovering over something.

But she wasn't alone.

She heard the sound of people running, many people, running in terror. She felt the fear, and it startled her with its power.

Then, she heard the screams. Women, children screaming, screaming. Dreadful sounds not just of fear but of pain. She wanted to clap her hands over her ears but she had no way to do that. There were other sounds now fighting sounds that could only mean murder and blood. They grew in volume, surrounding her, and she could not blot them out. She wanted to scream herself, if just to drown out those heart-rending cries.

Out of the maelstrom of noise came a single voice, male and powerful, shouting above the sounds of killing and of death, screaming out in a language Zatanna didn't know, but the meaning was unmistakable: the owner of the voice was calling out for vengeance. He was the victim, the voice for those whose lives had just been cut short so awfully.

"A CURSE ON YOU! DOWN THROUGH THE GENERATIONS! MAY YOU NEVER HAVE PEACE!"

"Miss Zatanna?"

As suddenly as she had been sucked into the fugue state caused by the psychometry, she was back to herself. Although it had seemed like many long minutes, only a few seconds had passed. The sudden silence after that noise was shocking. She stood still, dazed for a second. She was no longer touching the forearm guard, and the butler was staring at her worriedly.

"Miss Zatanna, is everything all right?"

She found she didn't know how to describe exactly what she just experienced, and she didn't want to tell him, heaven knew he thought she was wacky enough.

"Oh…yes, yes. Yes, I'm…fine. I'm sorry I just got…dizzy for a moment."

The astute butler looked not quite convinced of her 'fine'-ness, but he nodded understandingly. "My apologies, Miss Zatana, I fear I may have drawn out our tour. Shall I fetch you a glass of water?"

Zatanna shook her head, still a little dazed. She just felt now that she could use some sleep. "I'm all right, I'll just go back to my room, if you don't mind."

"Certainly. I will escort you. I know you know your way around, but I would like to ensure you get there safely."

Zatanna didn't protest as he took hold of her arm and helped her away. She was extremely unsettled and she knew it just wasn't the sensations of death and rage, she had felt similar things when she'd done similar work for the police. But it had never been so strong as what had happened just now. She knew such a reaction could only have been caused by something quite personal, something in that bloodstained piece of armor had spoken to her, because there was some connection with her there. But she didn't understand how that could be. She had never been in that room before, never seen that piece of armor before.

Something in the Wayne family, and her? But that couldn't be possible either, she thought.

She gave one last apprehensive look over her shoulder. But the suit of amor's visored helm concealed any answers that may be there, and seemed to glare a warning at her to keep away.

"Don't get me wrong, Zee, I don't think you're the type to fall head over heels for someone just because he showers you with fancy and expensive gifts," Charly was saying, and Zatanna forced herself to pay attention. "But you've always brushed off other rich idiots who tried that tack. Why is Bruce Wayne any different?"

"It just…it just is. We have a…connection." Zatanna replied after a long moment, realizing herself how lame that sounded. "I don't know how to explain it." She said finally.

"If he's just the 'rebound' guy…"

"He's not," Zatanna said, with a firmness that surprised even herself.

Charly didn't look convinced but she fell silent as Bruce finally approached them. He was being at his most convivial, both surprising and annoying her touch-phobic manager with a friendly hug and then he turned his gregariousness on Zatanna.

"Zee!" he said warmly. "You look wonderful!"

"I'm covered in sweat," Zatanna protested, but it didn't stop Bruce from nuzzling her neck in a drawn-out and rather sloppy kiss. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mikail and his boyfriend hiding their giggles behind their hands. Surreptitiously she gave them the finger, but she found herself leaning into his kiss.

"You look beautiful sweaty," Bruce grinned as he straightened. She couldn't help but grin herself at his goofy and ridiculously lustful face; she felt her second flute of champagne working its liquid magic within. "Congratulations on your wonderful show!" He gushed.

"Oh. Did you see it?" Charly asked pointedly. "I didn't see you in the audience."

"I came late, but I know it was great," Bruce gave her a knowing look. "If I missed any magic tricks, I'm sure Zatanna will give me a...private show."

"I'll see you later, Zee. Drive safely," Charly glared pointedly at Bruce, then left.

"What's with her?"

"She doesn't like you."

"Why not?" Bruce seemed genuinely affronted. "After all I've done for her!"

"Because you're treating me like your mistress," Zatanna said with mock-reproach. "She thinks you're trying to buy my affections."

"I thought I already bought them."

She glared at him at that. "You couldn't afford them, really!"

"Hm. I guess I'll just try harder. How about a beach house in the Maldives?"

"Please."

"I'm serious," Bruce slipped an arm around Zatanna's slender waist and pulled her close. She still hadn't changed out of her costume, a variation of the diaphanous costume she'd worn when he saw her perform at the Dante Club, which clung to her skin. "It's all yours, the deed's in your name. If you want to magick yourself there, I'll tell you exactly where it is right now."

Zatanna abruptly pulled away from him, suddenly uncomfortable. "Stop."

She picked up a third flute. Actually a cold beer would have been better, or a shot of whiskey. Around them the party was picking up, and the DJ was going full blast, people were dancing, whooping, happy, but now she felt off-balance. Bruce was just looking at her, with a slightly perplexed expression.

"What's wrong?"

"You didn't have to do all that." She realized Charly's accusations upset her more than she'd realized. "Even for show."

"It's not for show," Bruce said more quietly, under the pulse of the music. He glanced away, his expression not so comical as it was earlier. "I was joking. I'm sorry if I offended you."

"You didn't. It's just that..."

"I know. Your boss thinks I'm treating you like my latest conquest, or worse, and that I'm going to end up hurting you in the end, not just emotionally. Vicki filled her head with images of my losing it and becoming physically violent, although she never witnessed me ever acting out violently and she knows it. She wanted Charly to tell you so that she can ask you about us in her future interview with you. Charly also believes you should end our relationship after tonight."

"Wow, the Great Detective strikes again," Zatanna muttered. "You got all that just now? And she's not my boss, she's my manager."

Bruce shrugged. "Mostly from her face. It's like an open book. Also, I saw overheard her talking to Vicki. Does it bother you, everyone knowing about us?"

As the days passed, it turned out Zatanna had hardly time to think about what had happened in the 'War Room.' She was so busy at the studio she sometimes slept there after rehearsals, but it settled down into a routine, and there were thankfully no problems that required her participation with the League. Bruce's investigation into the work-camp took more of his time than expected. He returned a week later, looking more angry than usual.

"So what happened? Any answers?"

He'd slammed his briefcase onto a desk and sunk into a chair. "Not the ones I want, not yet. The director who authorized the drill was killed in the explosion. There are some encrypted files even I'm having trouble breaking. Apparently there was a rumor going around that there would be substantial bonuses for completing our contractual obligations on time, but it had nothing to do with directing the drilling. Until I can break the encryption, I don't have the answers."

"What about…whatever Clark saw?"

Bruce shook his head. "The explosion revealed a small cavern but beyond that just solid rock. There's nothing there, not even the natural gas and rare earth deposits they were looking for. A waste of lives."

He looked so infuriated Zatanna had decided not to talk to him about her unsettling experience. The horrible feeling she had experienced when touching the vambrance was fading, leaving her with a still-unpleasant after-taste. He also didn't look in the mood for another problem, especially a vague one.

What they needed, Zatanna thought, then, was some restoration of well-being and a moment of 'self-care.'

They were alone, and she didn't hesitate. She made her suggestion, and Bruce was most receptive to it. Just as Zatanna suspected, it turned out to be convenient for her to be in the Manor – he would be there when he wanted to see her, and fortunately it wasn't to talk about work or any weird thing that had happened involving the Justice League. Yet they still hardly had any time together, with her shows and this thing up in the Dakotas he was still investigating. It made her uncomfortably aware that she still really didn't know him very well – other than the contours of his body and his particular tastes in bed.

But as long as he wasn't pursuing his occult studies, she was content with that, despite their infrequent meetings. He hadn't tried to use the Aklo words again, as far as she knew.

"I'm used to gossip, I'm an entertainer," Zatanna said. "Besides, you know I don't care about what anyone says about us."

She eyed him. "What about you?"

Bruce snorted. "You know I don't either."

"Even the…?" She raised her eyes towards the ceiling.

Now he scowled. "What have you heard?"

"Oh, nothing," Zatanna knew from Dinah that Bruce had circulated a memo within the League stating to the effect that 'gossip' among League members shoud stop. Gossip (meaning, according to Dinah, people talking amongst themselves) was contrary to 'good order and discipline.' 'Yeah, good luck with that!' Dinah had said.

Bruce however didn't look mollified. She was surprised since she didn't think he would be affected by what his League colleagues thought. Perhaps, she thought, he valued his aura of ascetic rigidity as much as he did the playboy image. It was a different audience, though. But Zatanna knew, having seen Bruce in his more intimate moments, how fictitious that was. She wondered how much of his life had been dedicated to forming this character…perhaps ever since his parents' murder.

Her next thought, then: how much of the real Bruce did she know?

Zatanna pushed the thought to the back of her mind. It was getting too hot and noisy to think. Instead she said, "I've hardly seen you these past couple of weeks, and I've missed everyone in the League too. I'll make up for it, I promise."

"That's all right," Bruce said. "There's no hurry."

Zatanna looked thoughtfully at him. It wasn't like him to not care about his precious schedules and he seemed a bit distracted, and it wasn't just from watching the revelers. "Is everything all right?"

"What? Oh, yes. It's just been quiet. A little too quiet. I was out...earlier. Nothing exceptional."

She knew he was still troubled about the Joker's escape, and especially that his gang was still laying low, for reasons he hadn't yet uncovered.

"I let Clark and Diana know I'm still working on what happened at the Bakken camp. But it seems to be a dead end."

That wasn't exactly an answer to Zatanna's question, but she let it pass, it was evident he didn't want to talk further about it at least not here. The matter dropped and for a while, they allowed themselves to participate in the backstage party. For a few hours, Zatanna allowed herself to relax and not think about impending obligations.

Finnaly after several hours, they made their departure together as planned. She made her goodbyes to her friends and others (she noticed Charly had left before them), and then she was in Bruce's car (he'd taken his Bentley Flying Spur tonight), back to Wayne Manor.

Bruce's abstraction continued on the drive back, as he hardly said anything as they left downtown and headed into light traffic out into Gotham's suburbs. As they left the sprawling 'burbs and onto the two-lane highway into the countryside, his hand gently rested on Zatanna's arm. She'd already been drifting off to sleep when he did so.

"Bruce?"

"You didn't want to stay longer did you?"

"No, I was ready to go," she looked at him. "I wanted to go home with you, anyway."

Bruce smiled, a real smile this time not a smirk. "Do you really think of it as your home too? I hoped you would."

He turned his attention back to the road. It was a mostly dark and unlit straight stretch, the luxury car's engine almost soundless. They could have been in space, the sense of isolation in a bubble was powerful. Zatanna sometimes felt like that, when she traveled with her father in their RV, criss-crossing the country, with the circus.

"I was always on the road, most of my life anyway," Zatanna said aloud. "Shadowcrest was our family home, but we were hardly there either, for very long anyway. Dad was always doing something."

There was silence after that, except for the faint drone of the engine.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that Zatanna's head was drooping and he realized she was drifting off to sleep. Of course she would be tired after three performances today. He would wait for tomorrow to have a serious discussion with her. He had had another surprise for her at the house, and it definitely wasn't a beach hut.

It was something much more, but he realized by now, after a month, that Zatanna would likely not be very pleased that he had it. But Bruce had gambled that once she realized it was in his possession, she would do what she could to help him, if only to 'protect' him.

It was the reason he had not been able to attend her final performance. He had finally managed to locate the purchaser of the Necronomicon, and it was now at the Manor, more precisely in the Batcave. In his pursuit of it, he had learned quite a few things, and not least, perhaps was a way to end the reign of Gotham City's most dangerous criminal.

To be continued...

[A/N: My apologies for the long wait! Thanks for sticking around to follow the drama, and please review! I hope everyone has had a safe and happy holidays! I will try to write and post as much as I can]