8

Walking through Wayne Enterprises was humiliating for Jasmine. No one else blamed her, but she felt responsible for what had happened. She had let a suspect go for the first time in her career. She hoped Fox ripped her apart when she got to his office. It would do her soul some good.

He looked up as she walked in, perhaps a little worriedly. "How are you doing, Miss Richards?"

"Okay. Feeling a little bad about what happened,"

"I'm sure you did what you could."

And then some, she thought but just nodded. She handed him an envelope with the same items she'd given Batman, perhaps a few more of the letters. "I need a favor; I know I haven't earned it yet so I'll understand if you say no. There's some…stuff I need help with. I think I can figure out the Joker if I can figure out this. Or at least get closer."

"Really are upset he ruined that nice stained glass artwork you made for Mr. Wayne, are you?" His warm voice asked easily. Jasmine relaxed instantly, glad for the truce.

"Not as ticked off as you'd think. I don't like very many of my pieces, as long as my clients are happy…"she waved a hand in the air. "Speaking of, those items I need help with are military level. If you don't feel comfortable,"

He gave her a strange look, and pulled out the contents of the envelope. He looked them over and set them out one by one, watching her face. "Do I have a name or two to go with these faces?"

"Zeke Howe might be a good place to start," She said feeling the rush of revenge. "If that fails…try Brian Richards."

Lucias frowned, suddenly appraising the young woman in front of his for real. He had always considered her a crown grasper, considering her sudden good standing with Bruce. She was pretty, gutsy, and abnormally calm. Her hair was always combed to the left, hiding one side of her face. If it wasn't in a braid or French ponytail, it was loose. She wore leggings and travel skirts, button up tees and that black denim jacket. He had rarely seen her without her trademark look, but for the first time, he thought that it might have been carefully crafted for a purpose. The clothing made sense, she carried the tools of her trade, and not everyone wanted to see the evidence of her job. The hair had never been cut, had never altered since he'd met her. If she talked to someone, the left was the first side she'd turn away. Little things stemming from the subconscious that added up to what?

He cleared his mind and asked, "Family?"

"My father."

"Do you think it's necessary?"

"It's fair." She said.

He left it at that, knowing from experience that it would do no good to press the secrets out. He wondered why she would willingly pull her family into whatever this was, but he gave it the credit it deserved. Bruce had already requested a similar check, so he could just give her what he found out for Mr. Wayne.

He smiled and looked down at the pictures. "I take it you have something against Mr. Howe."

"Yep." She grinned and pointed at him gangster style. "I owe you."

"Yes, you do." He stacked up the papers as she walked out.

Jasmine scouted the whole building before walking towards Bruce's office. She met Rachel Dawes coming out. The woman was really gorgeous. Not the model type, no. It was a face you couldn't get bored with, it had a lot of layers. Unlike Zoe's perfect angled bones, Rachel's curved making her look young and old, kind and strong, happy and serious. It was a very special face. Jasmine waited for her to walk by, and smiled.

"Hi, Richards, right?" Rachel asked smiling back.

"Yes, and you're Rachel." She held out her hand. "Bruce adores you; he won't shut up about you!" She hollered, and heard Alfred snicker as Bruce's knee jerked into the desk. Rachel laughed, and gave Jasmine thumbs up.

"Oh, I wonder what he says about me. Tell you what; I've been dying to talk to you anyway. Let's meet for diner? You can tell me everything then."

Jasmine felt a little strange at that, being asked for a girl's night out by someone she had never met before. Apparently Rachel wasn't the jealous type. She smiled. "Sounds like fun, where at?"

"Rachel, I don't think you can." Bruce hobbled to the door, glairing daggers at Jasmine. "You have a witness to meet, remember?"

"I'm doing that now, I'll be free by then. Five thirty, six at Rosewoods?" Rachel asked, turned to Jasmine. The cop nodded, and they both turned to stare down Bruce Wayne. He turned red from the collar up, and rubbed his knee grudgingly.

Alfred cleared his throat. "Shall I fix you an ice pack, sir?"

"No, I do not want an ice pack."

"Very good, sir." He winked at Jasmine, and she stifled a grin before she insulted Bruce more than she meant to.

Rachel walked away, and Jasmine walked in. "Sorry," she said automatically. Bruce shrugged.

"Just my pride and my knee, nothing valuable." He muttered. "You really need a boyfriend."

"Yeah, like I don't have enough work already." She paused across the desk from him. "I owe you an apology for the other day. I could've…should've gotten the Joker. I over thought and it was too late."

He leaned back. "Better have tried and failed, detective, at least you aren't crippled by the…absurd." Oh how close to home he spoke! She gave up trying to tell the truth without telling it and sat down on the desk as he stood to leave for a meeting. "You'll be okay until I get back…" he remembered he was talking to a policeman and smiled. "Right, later."

Alfred came over and handed her a cup of coffee. She accepted and looked into his clear eyes. "What's the Rosewoods like?"

"A chick spot, I think is what Mr. Wayne calls it. Quite elegant, but you don't have to dress too formally, thus the attraction. Rachel's favorite place, but doesn't go there often, more fun with friends." He folded his hands. "Why do you ask?"

"I've never been there before, didn't know what to wear."

He raised a distinguished brow. "I didn't know you cared."

She threw back her head and howled. "My sister is a model; I was going to college to be her exclusive designer before I signed on to carry a gun. Of course I know what I've got on!" She shook her head. "It's nice to not have to worry about it most of the time."

Alfred nodded, and picked up a folder, placing glasses on his nose. Jasmine studied him for a moment. She often wondered what part of England he had come from, why he had settled with the Waynes. His devotion was undeniable, and she suspected that if cornered he was not one to give in without a fight. She often wondered if he had any family, or if he had been estranged from them. His past was Bruce Wayne, but that wasn't all there was to him, though it was a great part. It said more of him than his employer.

She turned her attention to the coffee in her hands, and guessed it wasn't Folger's.

The knife handle pressed between her leg and the edge of the desk. She thought of Jack, and wondered what his story was. From what she could dig up, he never told anyone the same story twice about what had happened. She didn't doubt what he had told her, as strange as it was. She believed every word he'd said about Zeke, and she would do anything she could to prove Zeke guilty of that one crime.

Alfred glanced up from his paperwork to see her staring into her cup, unmoving. She was as much a mystery to him as he was to her. He knew what Mr. Wayne knew, of course. She'd been short of money and given up an art career for one of law. She'd been attacked, leaving a nasty scar which she now hid. Much like Bruce, she used what had been done to her to make a mask and hide the truth. She however, preferred to avoid even hinting at her wounds and fears.

The loyal man smiled to himself. If Rachel and Bruce had never met, Jasmine would have been perfect for Master Wayne. He would have probably marched them down the aisle at gunpoint if reason and time had failed. The thought made him chuckle, and he missed the puzzled look the detective gave him.

The day went uneventfully, and Jasmine got home in plenty of time to shower and change. She left her hair loose except for a deco clip on the right side, and wore an ice green skirt and coat with a white silk shirt. She gave herself a glance in the mirror and nodded. Her arsenal didn't show or cause bulges. She grabbed a long coat in case the night turned cold, plus she just liked to carry one.

Rosewoods had been decorated primarily in light shades of pink and white with black accents. Each table had its own theme, lending a special feeling to the place. As Jasmine walked in, she saw a man gazing miserably around while his date squealed over every little item. She felt a twinge of compassion, but he'd asked her, he'd have to live with it for the night.

Rachel grinned as Jasmine came over. "I hope I didn't put you on the spot too much. I know working with a guy and then being asked out by another female co-worker…well, it can get awkward."

"Wow, a lawyer speechless on a human condition." Jasmine grinned back. "Don't worry about it. Bruce needs to be brought down to Earth every so often, I try my best, but help is always welcome."

"You two get along really well, you should just quit the Gotham Police and ask him for a job."

"Nah, I just got on Fox's good side. A job request might nix it. Besides, you said you wanted to know what Bruce says about you."

Rachel laughed. "I know what he'd say, so forget it. Really I just wanted someone to talk to that wasn't from my office or old school friends."

The detective's face softened. She understood, probably better than Rachel knew.