Author's Note: This chapter was delayed, because there have just been too many distractions of late, including Daredevil Season 2, the Supergirl/Flash crossover, and Batman v. Superman. I loved the first two—although they weren't perfect, but I have to say I was a bit disappointed with BVS. It had its moments, but it could've been better. All three tempted me to write other fanfictions, though, but now I'm back to this story. I appreciate everyone's favorites, follows, and reviews during the interim.

I've said it before, but I want to bring it up again that I do not own any of the characters or plots included in this story. I mention a song in this chapter, and I do not own the rights to that either. I'm just borrowing it for the sake of this story.

Now, as always, thank you for reading!

Claire found herself tapping her foot against the floor as she waited impatiently for the elevator to reach Bruce's penthouse.

She knew it was nerves, but she just didn't know why she felt so nervous about tonight.

Claire was already closer to Bruce than most people in her life, and he knew more about her than any other man that she'd dated ever had.

And they'd already crossed so many boundaries. Going on a date shouldn't seem like that important of a step in their relationship—especially not after everything that had happened between them last night.

But Claire couldn't help but feel anxious.

Chloe had tried to help her earlier in the day—convincing her to go out shopping for a new dress during their lunch break. Claire didn't know if the long, dark red gown she was now wearing was too fancy for whatever Bruce had planned. The dress was sleeveless with a high neck, an exposed back, and a slit in the skirt that ran up to her thigh. Bruce had said dinner and dancing, but Claire wondered if this dress was the right choice.

Chloe had talked her into the purchase, though. She'd told Claire that it would only take her a moment to run back to Metropolis and change her clothes if the dress wasn't right for the date.

Claire pulled her black wrap more tightly around her shoulders as the elevator neared its destination. She would know soon enough whether her clothing was appropriate for the evening—and more importantly, whether she had any real reason to be nervous about her first date with Bruce.

The doors opened to reveal Alfred standing in the foyer, waiting to greet her.

"Hi, Al," Claire said, as she stepped into the penthouse.

"Good evening, Miss Kent," he replied. "Master Wayne will be downstairs shortly."

"I'm already here, Alfred!" Bruce called from directly above them. Claire could hear him hustling down the staircase. When he came into view, Claire saw that Bruce was putting on a black jacket that went with the tuxedo he was wearing. She knew then that she'd picked the right dress for tonight.

Her opinion was confirmed when Bruce caught sight of her. He paused where he stood and looked her up and down.

"You look beautiful," Bruce said, and she could tell that he meant it.

"You don't look so bad yourself," she replied with a smile, suddenly feeling less nervous.

"Are you ready to head out?" Bruce asked.

"I guess as ready as I'll ever be," Claire answered.

Bruce grabbed a car key before turning back toward Alfred. "Have fun on your night off, Alfred," he said to his butler.

"Just because you're gone doesn't mean I take the night off, sir," Alfred replied. "Otherwise, I'd have every night off, now wouldn't I?"

"I suppose so, but still, I hope you enjoy your night," Bruce said, as he walked up to Claire and offered her his arm.

Claire slid her hand around Bruce's forearm and followed him toward the elevator.

"Have a lovely time, you two," Alfred called after them.

"Thanks, Al," Claire replied once they were inside the elevator. "Have a nice night," she added.

"Likewise, Miss Kent," Alfred said, before the doors shut and the elevator began to descend.

"So where are we headed?" Claire asked.

"A new restaurant is having its grand opening across town," Bruce replied. "They've hired a well known chef to run their kitchen. Plus, they supposedly have an impressive dance floor, and a live band will be playing tonight."

"Well, that sounds like a good choice," Claire said.

"I hope so," he said. "Just to forewarn you, though—the press will no doubt be there."

"So my picture might end up in the paper?" Claire asked. "I guess it's a good thing I got a new dress," she added sarcastically.

"I'm sorry, Claire," Bruce said seriously. "I don't want to be adding complications to your life."

"Don't apologize, Bruce," Claire replied. "We both agreed about having a public relationship. I knew that would involve having the media spotlight on us occasionally."

"I don't want a public relationship just to have a cover story," he said. "I want more than that."

"So do I," Claire said earnestly.

Bruce suddenly moved toward the elevator control panel and hit the emergency stop button.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Are you still feeling any effects from what you went through yesterday?" Bruce asked, his eyes fixed on hers.

"No," she answered.

"Good," Bruce replied, before wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her toward him for a deep and passionate kiss.

"I've been waiting too many hours to do that," he said, once they broke apart for air.

"You really are too good at that," Claire said, unable to deny how much she enjoyed being in Bruce's arms.

"I'm glad to hear that," Bruce said. "I wouldn't want you looking to someone else to satisfy your needs."

"You really were bothered yesterday, weren't you? About that threat I made to go to Lex?" Claire questioned.

Bruce didn't answer; instead, he went back to the panel, and the elevator soon began moving again.

"Bruce?" Claire said, wondering if he was going to answer her.

"I was bothered by a number of things yesterday," Bruce said. "The threat about Lex was one of them."

"But you know it was just a threat, don't you?" Claire asked. "I wasn't going to go to Lex."

"You and Lex do have a past, though," Bruce said.

"Yes, we do have a past," Claire said. "A past that was never anything more than a stupid schoolgirl crush on my part and a crazy obsession on his. A past that never involved making out in my barn or me being able to trust Lex with my secrets or anything else that is remotely close to what you and I have shared. On top of that, Lex tried to have my father killed. So are you really going to be bothered by whatever past Lex and I had?"

"I guess not," Bruce replied.

"So what else bothered you about yesterday?" she asked, as the doors opened to Bruce's garage level.

"Well, I can't say that I was pleased about the ruler of an alien planet showing up wanting to make you his queen," Bruce said. "Has that ever happened before?" he asked, as he opened the passenger side door to one of his fancy cars.

"No," Claire answered, entering the vehicle. When Bruce was in the car as well, she continued, "I won't lie to you, Bruce. I've had problems with other aliens before. Nothing exactly like last night, but still, I've known other people from other worlds who've wanted to cause trouble."

"But you've been able to stop them?" Bruce asked, as he put the car in drive.

"Yes—sometimes on my own, but sometimes with help," she said.

"You mean John?" he questioned, as they exited the garage.

"John and others," Claire began. "My cousin Kal-El—he was sent to Earth as well. His ship crashed and was stuck underwater for years, but a dam broke, and he was freed. After that, he was able to help me with being a Kryptonian on Earth."

"You haven't mentioned him," Bruce said. "Where is he now?"

"He's…he's gone," Claire said with difficulty. Losing a surviving member of her biological family had been one of the darkest moments of her life, and Bruce seemed to pick up on that.

"I'm sorry," he said earnestly, offering her his hand.

Claire put her hand in his, and their fingers intertwined. He brought her hand up to his lips then and kissed the back of it. Bruce had done this gesture before, but that didn't make it any less meaningful this time.

"Thank you," she said.

They were silent for a time, as Bruce drove them through the streets of Gotham. The quiet inside the car did little to negate the noise outside of it. Claire could still pick up on honking horns, screeching brakes, and other sounds common on urban roadways. Soon, she heard noises that reminded her of her day job—camera lenses snapping and loud questions being asked.

The sounds were coming from a block ahead of them, and Claire realized that they must be nearing the restaurant.

Bruce confirmed her thought as he said, "We're almost there. I know you don't like to follow orders, but maybe you should let me take the lead on this one."

"Well, I suppose this is your world we're entering," Claire replied. "So I guess I'm willing to follow your lead, but that means that I get to call all the shots on any future extraterrestrial encounters."

"There's only one extraterrestrial that I want to encounter," Bruce said slyly, as they pulled up to the restaurant.

"You're incorrigible," Claire replied.

"Kiss me and maybe then I'll behave," Bruce said.

Claire could hear every camera flashing behind them and the young valet waiting for them to vacate the vehicle so that he could park it. Claire wasn't accustomed to audiences, but this was just part of Bruce Wayne's life. She wanted to be part of that life, so she was just going to have to learn how to accept the rest of it.

She leaned forward, and Bruce mirrored her movement until their lips met. His fingers went to the side of her neck, encouraging her to move closer to him while somehow not disturbing her carefully pinned hair bun.

The valet then coughed loudly enough for Bruce to hear it, and they quickly broke apart.

"Stay there," Bruce whispered. "I'll get the door."

Bruce exited the vehicle and handed the keys to the valet. A doorman was approaching Claire's side, but Bruce waved him off. Bruce opened Claire's door and assisted her out of the vehicle, and Claire could tell that most eyes were watching them. Bruce's arm wrapped around her waist, and his hand rested upon her hip, making it clear that she was with him.

Bruce then looked at the sea of paparazzi leading up to the restaurant entrance, and he finally seemed to spot the person he was looking for.

"That's Vicky Vale," Bruce said in a voice loud enough for Claire to hear. "She's a hopeless romantic. She'll eat up the story that we're going to tell her."

"Bruce!" Vicky called, as the other reporters were also shouting his name, waving for him to come over.

Bruce led Claire toward Vicky, though, and the tall, blonde reporter seemed thrilled about that.

"Lovely to see you tonight, Ms. Vale," Bruce said. His voice was somewhere between his playboy persona and the tone he took with Claire normally. It seemed as if he were trying to sound genuine.

"Lovely to see you too, Bruce. Now who is your mystery date tonight?" Vicky asked.

"This is my girlfriend Claire Kent," he replied.

"Girlfriend?" Vicky repeated, sounding surprised. "That seems to be a serious term to be using for someone we've never seen you with before."

"Well, Vicky, just because you haven't seen something, that doesn't mean it isn't happening," Bruce said. His eyes then went to Claire's, as he added, "And I couldn't be more serious."

"Really?" Vicky questioned. "Well, you need to tell my viewers more. I'm sure they'll be eager to know about the woman who's managed to win over the elusive Bruce Wayne. So how did you two meet?"

"Fate," Bruce answered. "Claire's the daughter of Jonathan Kent—our future congressman if voters make the right choice in the election this year. I was impressed by what Mr. Kent had to say at a Wayne Foundation event weeks ago, and I decided to support him. Then, I was fortunate enough to meet Mr. Kent's daughter, and my life hasn't been the same since."

"Wow," Vicky replied. "Miss Kent, I have to know more about you. What kind of woman can win that sort of praise from the prince of Gotham?"

Claire wasn't used to being on this side of interview questions, but she decided to listen to Bruce for once and follow his lead. He was taking the truth and spinning it to answer Vicky's questions without revealing their secrets. It was a fine line to walk, but Claire was familiar with making up stories to fit a given situation.

"I'm actually…not too unlike you, Vicky," Claire said, still trying to sound like her shy, everyday self.

"Do you mean you're just one of the common people?" Vicky asked.

"Well, there's that," Claire began, "but I…uh…also meant that I'm a reporter. I work for the Daily Planet in Metropolis."

"Really? Well, if I'd known Bruce had a thing for reporters, then I would've tried harder to catch his eye," Vicky commented, batting her eyes at Bruce.

"Sorry, Vicky, but only one reporter has ever caught my eye," Bruce said, pulling Claire closer to him. "And she's turned me into a one-woman sort of man."

"Are we really supposed to believe that, Mr. Wayne?" a male reporter questioned. He was a bulky man with dirty blonde hair and a hard face. "I've uncovered that Lex Luthor is really running for office in hopes of awarding government contracts to Luthorcorp. Sure, he won't be able to reap the benefits from them while he's in office, but once he's out of office, he'll go back to an even more profitable business—all because of the political moves he's making now. Are you going to tell us that you aren't hoping for the same perks for Wayne Enterprises through your connection to Jonathan Kent?"

"I'm not Lex Luthor, and Wayne Enterprises isn't Luthorcorp. My company won't be benefitting no matter how the election turns out," Bruce replied. "The only benefit I'm getting right now is that a kind and beautiful woman is willing to spend her time with an undeserving man like me. And I'm more grateful for that than I can say."

Bruce wasn't lying—Claire could tell that. She already knew he wouldn't try to achieve some sort of political gain through her father, but she was caught off guard by the rest of what Bruce had to say. She wasn't used to someone praising Claire Kent.

"Now if you'll excuse us," Bruce began, "our table's waiting."

At that, Claire could feel Bruce's hand applying pressure, encouraging her to follow him toward the door.

"That wasn't as bad as I thought it might be," Claire said.

"Well, let's hope the rest of the evening goes as smoothly," Bruce replied.

Once they were inside the restaurant, a hostess led them to a table for two. It was in a prominent location, overlooking the dance floor. Bruce pulled out the closest chair and waited for Claire to take a seat before moving around the table to his own chair. The hostess then gave them menus and left them by themselves.

"So far, this feels like a normal date," Claire commented. "Apart from the cameras and the reporters and, well, getting the nicest table in the place without having to beg for it."

"I guess it's normal for the everyday billionaire side of my personality," Bruce replied with a smile, and Claire couldn't help but smile back.

They carried on their conversation with ease. Their table was far enough away from others that they didn't have to worry about being overheard, and Claire could tell when a waiter or waitress was drawing too close. It felt like a perfect evening, but Claire soon realized that it all might be too good to be true.

Beyond the crowd of people within the restaurant, Claire could hear someone entering the building—someone with a female voice that Claire recognized.

Bruce noticed the sudden pause in the conversation and asked, "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," Claire replied, but she could tell that Bruce didn't believe her. After a moment, she continued, "It's just your ex-girlfriend."

Claire could hear Rachel with a man approaching the hostess. Rachel's date indicated that his name was Harvey Dent, and the two were then led to a table across the room. And Claire could tell that Bruce had seen them.

"This is in no way awkward," Claire lied, taking a sip from her wine glass.

"Actually, it's not," Bruce said.

"How do you figure that?" Claire asked. "I mean—she was your childhood sweetheart."

"But I'm not a child anymore," Bruce replied earnestly. He stood up and moved around the table toward Claire. He then offered her his hand, before saying, "And now I want to dance with the woman I'm really interested in—if she'll have me."

Claire took his hand and let Bruce lead her down to the dance floor. One song ended, and then the band began to play "Unchained Melody." As the lyrics discussed hungering for a lover's touch, one of Bruce's hands wrapped around her waist, and his fingers lightly caressed her exposed back. He guided Claire among the other dancers after that, and they seemed to move closer to one another with every spin.

Despite the moment they were sharing, Claire couldn't help but hear Rachel's laughter, and she couldn't avoid noticing the way Bruce's eyes looked toward the sound. It was brief, but Claire couldn't ignore it.

"Do you want to know who she's with?" Claire asked.

"She's with the acting District Attorney—Harvey Dent," Bruce replied.

"So you already knew that?"

"Yes, I already knew who was appointed to the District Attorney position while we wait for the election," Bruce said.

"That wasn't exactly what I was asking," Claire said.

"Careful," Bruce began. "That's starting to sound like jealousy."

"Do I have reason to be jealous?" Claire questioned.

"No," Bruce replied.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Could I lie to you?" he asked. "You can hear my pulse—that must let you be your own lie detector."

"You might not lie to me," Claire said. "But you can still hide things from me. You were keeping kryptonite in your desk drawer without telling me."

"You know why I had that," Bruce replied defensively.

"I do," she responded. "But it's still a sign that we might not be telling each other everything."

"Do you want me to tell you everything?" Bruce asked, with something dark in his tone.

"Yes," Claire replied.

"The man in the corner over there, the one whose date looks like she could be his granddaughter," Bruce said, nodding toward a corner before spinning them so Claire could see. Claire spotted the man easily. He was overweight with slicked-back gray hair. "His name's Richard Daniel. He's a rather wealthy businessman, and a member of the board of Gotham City Bank—the very same bank that Falcone used when he was running the drug trade in Gotham."

Claire wasn't expecting this sort of answer from Bruce, but she listened intently, wondering where he was going with his comments.

"Daniel has helped to finance some of the worst crimes in this city over the last thirty years," Bruce continued. "But he's been careful. There isn't enough hard evidence to put him away, and the last DA thought that nothing could bring the man to justice short of a confession."

"I'm surprised a certain vigilante hasn't tried to obtain that confession," Claire said.

"That wouldn't be good enough," Bruce replied. "His lawyers would have it thrown out. A coerced confession would be inadmissible in court, so I've been looking for another way to get to him. And I've been paying attention to the DA's office. I think Mr. Dent might have the nerve needed to handle the job, so that's why I know who he is. I don't care who he's dating; I just want to make sure he's going to be able to help this city."

Claire knew it was the truth, and she felt foolish about being jealous of Rachel. Bruce had meant everything he'd said tonight about his feelings for her, so Claire decided to try to put their date back on track. She could tell that he was more Batman at the moment than Bruce Wayne, and luckily, she knew just what to say to the fellow vigilante.

"So how many other bad guys are in this room?" she asked.

"A handful," Bruce answered. "Like Daniel, they're the ones that aren't easy targets for the Batman to bring down."

"Could the Blur help out with any of them?" Claire asked. Her tone was lighter, and Bruce seemed to pick up on that. They smiled at one another before Bruce offered an answer.

"I do love watching you work," he said. "But it's not necessary for these guys. The Batman will be able to handle it."

"Only if you're sure," Claire replied, before leaning closer to his ear. "Because I love watching you work too," she whispered.

The song was nearing its end, and the lyrics had the singer asking God to speed another's love to him.

Bruce's eyes met Claire's as she pulled back from his ear. Bruce didn't let her go far. His lips met hers, and Claire couldn't believe it. They were standing in the middle of the dance floor within a packed restaurant, and normally Claire would run away from anything that might draw attention to herself, but right now, she wasn't running. She felt safe in Bruce's arms. She'd gone through her life having to hide from nearly everyone, but she didn't have to be like that with Bruce. He knew every side of her, and he was still willing to stand beside her through practically anything.

Claire knew how dangerous her life could be. She'd seen her family and friends threatened by her enemies, but she didn't have as much to worry about with Bruce. He could take care of himself, and no doubt he would help her to protect anyone else that might be in trouble.

Claire now understood why she'd been so nervous before. It wasn't about going on her first date with Bruce; it was the fact that they were already so far along in this relationship. None of her relationships had ever worked out in the past; something about her had always brought an end to them.

And now she once again was faced with a relationship that she was afraid to lose.

Claire pulled away, breaking the kiss, and she could see a look of concern on Bruce's face. It seemed like he was going to question her, but she was saved when a man in a fancy blue suit showed up on the stage and took the microphone from the lead singer. It was apparent that he was the MC.

"Welcome all," the MC began, "I hope you're enjoying the evening. Give our band here a hand. They've been great entertainment so far."

Everyone applauded the musicians. As the room quieted, the MC started speaking again.

"Now we have a special treat for you all tonight," he said. "A master of magic is gracing us with his presence to thrill and amaze us."

"You didn't say we'd see a magician tonight," Claire said to Bruce quietly.

"I didn't know we would," Bruce replied, and Claire noticed that his brow was furrowed slightly.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Before Bruce could answer, the MC continued, "Without further ado, I give you—Zatara!"

Bruce tensed at the name, and its owner walked swiftly onto the stage.

Zatara appeared to be in his sixties, with white streaks in his otherwise black hair and a white curled mustache above his lip. He seemed sharp and polished. His black jacket had long coattails, he wore a top hat, and he carried a baton.

Bruce wasn't giving her answers; he was too focused on watching Zatara's movements. So Claire turned her senses outward to see what she could pick up.

Looking more closely at the MC, Claire noticed something off about his eyes. There was a cloudiness to them, almost as if the MC wasn't really able to see through them. She also listened for any noises backstage. Claire grew concerned when she realized that the stagehands didn't sound like normal, conscious workers—moving around with purpose or talking to one another; instead, they sounded like they were just sleepwalking.

"Something's going on," Claire told Bruce.

"I don't doubt it," Bruce replied sternly.

"Who is this guy?" she asked, recognizing that Bruce knew more than he was saying.

"He's someone I used to know," he answered. "The real question is what he's doing here."

"Based on what I can hear, I don't think it's anything good," Claire commented.

"But the Zatara I know—he's not a villain," Bruce said.

"Then what's going on?" she asked.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Zatara announced, halting their conversation. "I am here tonight in search of one thing—the truth. And I want for you all to join me in my quest for it."

"What truth do you think he's looking for?" Claire whispered to Bruce.

"I don't know," he replied.

Claire listened again to the people backstage. She didn't like leaving them trapped in whatever state that Zatara had put them in, but she trusted Bruce's instinct. If he didn't think that Zatara was here to cause harm, then she would give the magician another minute. If things became worse in any way, though, Claire would act—no matter what Bruce thought of this man.

"I need a volunteer from the audience," Zatara said loudly. He then waved his baton in front of the crowd and shouted, "Reetnulov sevlesruoy, srail!"

A number of people left their tables and the dance floor to move closer to the stage, as if they wanted to participate in whatever Zatara was doing. Claire also felt a strange urge to volunteer, but she managed to restrain herself. When she held back though, the frames of her glasses seemed to burn, almost as if they were becoming heated. Claire wasn't used to pain; she wasn't even used to discomfort, so she almost reached up to remove her glasses and ease the burning sensation, but suddenly the pain stopped.

The unusual feeling ended as soon as a man hurried up onto the stage to volunteer.

"What was that?" Claire asked Bruce quietly.

"It was magic—real magic," he answered. He sounded angry, so Claire turned to see Bruce's face. The look there matched his tone.

Claire knew magic existed. She'd seen remarkable and mystical things firsthand. She just wondered why Zatara was using magic in this restaurant tonight—and what exactly Bruce knew about what was going on here.

Claire decided to question Bruce later, as her focus shifted back to Zatara and the man that had joined him on stage. She realized then that the volunteer was Richard Daniel.

"Thank you for volunteering," Zatara said to Daniel. "Now, I would like for you to help me in my quest for the truth. Tell the audience who you are."

"My name is Richard Daniel," the man said. He didn't seem to be in the same dazed state as the MC, but Claire didn't think that Daniel was in complete control of his actions.

"Are you a good person, Mr. Daniel, or a bad person?" Zatara asked, his voice beginning to sound sinister.

"I'm a bad person," Daniel admitted readily.

"Well, we're off to a good start," Zatara said. "We all appreciate your honesty, Mr. Daniel. I know honesty isn't an easy thing, but I hope to make it easier." Zatara then turned toward the audience and added, "I hope to make it easier for all of you."

"We should stop this," Claire said, unable to ignore the feeling that something was wrong here.

"Daniel's a criminal," Bruce replied. "Let's see where Zatara is going with this."

"Timda ruoy sterces!" Zatara shouted.

At those words, Daniel turned to face the crowd. He then began speaking, confessing crimes he'd assisted others with and a few he'd committed himself, and he said he kept records of it all in a ledger in his office. The details he provided made it clear that he was guilty.

Claire could hear someone making a phone call across the room. She listened and realized it was Harvey Dent, calling the police to have them come in and arrest Daniel. Rachel was standing beside Harvey, and she also had her phone out. She wasn't making a call, though; instead, Claire could tell that Rachel was using the phone to record Daniel's confession.

Once he finished speaking, Daniel blinked several times and staggered backward. It appeared as if the effects of Zatara's magic were wearing off, and Daniel seemed to realize that something had gone wrong.

"What I just said," Daniel began, "I didn't mean any of it. That was all just part of this clown's magic trick. It wasn't real."

Two cops who'd been helping manage the crowds outside walked up to the stage with Harvey, as Daniel was trying to deny everything.

"Nice try, Daniel," Harvey said. "But I already have men headed down to your office, and once they find that ledger you mentioned, you're going away for a long time." Harvey turned to the officers and added, "Arrest him."

Everyone was focused on the scene with Daniel, but Claire noticed that Zatara was slipping back behind the curtain. She still didn't feel entirely right. Her glasses were bothering her again and so was her hair bun, and she thought that the magician had to be the cause. The people weren't moving backstage either, so Claire knew Zatara had to be convinced to undo what he'd done to everyone here.

"I'm going to speak with Zatara before he gets away," Claire said to Bruce.

Bruce caught hold of her hand and said, "We'll both go to speak with him. Like I said, I know him."

He then led her toward a side door near the stage.

"How do you know where you're going?" Claire asked. Her x-ray vision always helped her to maneuver through new places, but she wondered how Bruce managed to navigate his way around without abilities.

"I studied the blueprints once I chose this place for our date," Bruce answered.

"Why?"

"I like to be prepared for any outcome," he explained.

Claire could hear someone approaching them, but it didn't sound like Zatara's stride.

"Wait a second," Claire said. "Someone's coming."

"You shouldn't be here," a woman said, as she emerged from the shadows. She was shorter than Claire, with dark hair and tan skin, and she wore tight black pants and a black jacket. "But you always did enjoy getting into trouble, didn't you, sweetheart?" she added, looking straight at Bruce.

"Sweetheart?" Claire questioned, wondering who this woman was and how she knew Bruce.

"Oh, forgive me," she said. "Bruce and I already know each other so well that I forgot that I should introduce myself. My name is Zatanna." The woman took a deep bow at that before looking back up, directly at Claire. "And you are?"

"I'm Claire Kent," she replied, but she felt a sharp pain in her skull when she spoke. Claire couldn't help but grimace at the sensation.

"Are you sure about that?" Zatanna asked with a slight smile on her face.

"Zatanna, what's going on here?" Bruce asked. "What was your father after?"

Claire knew that Zatara had to be Zatanna's father. Their names and appearances were somewhat similar, and they were both backstage in this restaurant tonight.

"He got part of what he was after," Zatanna said. "He wanted to see that bastard Daniel go away for life after the trouble he's caused. And you know Father's spells. He'll probably get more than just Daniel's confession before this one is done."

"Zatanna!" the older magician called from somewhere further backstage.

"Time for me to run," Zatanna commented.

"Wait!" Claire said. "All the stagehands, the MC—you have to undo what was done to them."

"Well, aren't you sweet?" Zatanna said. "I can see why you like this girl, Bruce. And don't worry, Claire, all the innocent, honest people here will be fine."

Claire didn't like Zatanna's flippant tone any more than she liked any of the strange events that had happened this evening. She was about to stop the magician's daughter and make sure that no one left until everyone's safety was confirmed, but suddenly, a strong, purple cloud of smoke filled the air around them.

Claire couldn't see through the fog, and by the time it cleared, she could tell that both Zatara and Zatanna were gone.

"Are you okay?" Bruce asked, a concerned look on his face.

"Not entirely," Claire answered. "I mean—our first date did just get interrupted by two of your exes and a crazed magician."

She didn't mean to be so blunt with her response, but for some reason, she couldn't hold back those thoughts.

"This wasn't how I planned tonight to go," Bruce said.

"Me neither," Claire added. She let her senses turn back toward the other people in the building. She could hear that stagehands were once again sounding normal, and the police were dragging Daniel out the front door. "We should probably leave before anyone notices us back here," she said.

Bruce gripped her hand tightly and led her back toward the door to the restaurant. They went to their table, and Claire couldn't help but hear the conversations throughout the room.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" a woman asked the man she was with. They appeared to be a couple in their forties, and based on the rings they were wearing, Claire assumed that they were married.

"Yes," the man replied, sounding as if it pained him to say the word. "I've been sleeping with my secretary."

The confession was followed by a swift slap, right before Claire saw the woman storm away from the table.

"I think something is still going on," Claire said to Bruce, realizing that the husband was the second person tonight to admit the truth since Zatara had cast his spell and that she was still feeling discomfort along her disguise.

"So I won't be able to convince you to have dessert tonight?" Bruce asked, but Claire wasn't shutting off her abilities.

She could hear the police speaking outside. They were telling Harvey that Lt. Gordon would most likely want to pull Batman into the investigation of Daniel. Whatever Daniel had in his ledger, it might lead to other criminals, and they might need the Batman's help to bring them all to justice.

"The police are planning on calling Batman in to help investigate Daniel," Claire said. "I get the feeling that you'll be getting a signal from them soon enough."

At that, Bruce caught the attention of their waitress and asked for their check. After paying, they made their way to the front exit, and the valet went to retrieve Bruce's car.

"Bruce?" a voice said from nearby the entranceway.

Bruce turned, but Claire already knew it was Rachel.

"Rachel," Bruce replied. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Yeah, fancy that," Rachel said. "Imagine you showing up at the restaurant that my date and I were trying out."

"My date and I were trying this place out too," Bruce said, before wrapping his arm around Claire's waist and drawing her in closer. "Rachel, I'd like you to meet Claire Kent. Claire, this is Rachel Dawes—an old friend of mine."

"Miss Dawes," Claire said, offering her hand to the other woman. "I've heard such good things about you."

"You'll have to forgive me, Miss Kent," Rachel replied, as she shook Claire's hand. "I haven't really heard anything about you."

"That's all right," Claire said. "I'm not from around here, and I try to keep a low profile most of the time."

"Well, I doubt being Bruce Wayne's date will help you do that," Rachel said. She smiled at Bruce before adding, "He's a complicated sort of person."

"Oh, I'm aware of that," Claire replied. "But I don't mind complications."

"Rachel!" Harvey Dent called from behind her. He walked up beside her, casually kissing her on the cheek before saying, "I'm sorry to cut our night short, but I've got to head down to the station to make sure that everything goes okay with Daniel's processing."

"That's not a problem, Harvey," Rachel replied.

"You're welcome to come with me," he said quickly. "I just get the feeling that this is going to be the boring part, especially if Daniel wants to backtrack now."

"I'm sure you've got this covered without me," Rachel said with a smile.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I want to be without you," Harvey said, as he smiled back at her unreservedly. He leaned in to kiss her, but another voice interrupted him.

"Your car, Mr. Wayne," the valet said.

"Harvey," Rachel said, as if she suddenly remembered that she and Harvey were not alone. "This is my old friend Bruce Wayne."

Harvey turned to face them and then offered his hand to Bruce. "The famous Bruce Wayne," he began. "Rachel's told me everything about you."

"I certainly hope not," Bruce replied, as he shook Harvey's hand. "And this is Claire Kent," Bruce added.

"Wait, Jonathan Kent's daughter?" Harvey asked, as he offered his hand to her.

"That's me," Claire answered, trying to ignore the slight sting of pain she felt at the words.

"You're a reporter, if I'm not mistaken," Harvey noted.

"Yes, I am. I work for the Daily Planet in Metropolis," she said.

"Well, Miss Kent, I just want to tell you—off the record—that I hope your father kicks Luthor's ass in the upcoming election," Harvey said.

"Thank you, Mr. Dent," Claire replied. "I'm hoping for the same thing myself, and good luck with your own election."

"Thanks," Harvey said.

Claire then noticed a light shining in the sky in her peripheral vision. She turned to see the bat signal blazing. Bruce and Rachel were saying some sort of pleasantries, but Claire knew Bruce needed to be elsewhere.

At the next pause in the conversation, she interrupted, "Well, Mr. Dent, Bruce and I don't want to hold you up any longer. It sounded like justice needs to be dispensed tonight."

"Yes, it does," Harvey agreed. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Kent." He smiled warmly at her. He then turned to Bruce as if he were going to say something similar, but no kind words formed. Harvey just shook Bruce's hand again and said, "Until next time, Wayne."

Bruce and Claire then went toward the car. Bruce tipped the valet generously before helping Claire into the passenger seat.

As soon as Bruce started driving, Claire let her hair down and took off her glasses. She felt better almost instantly. It made her wonder if the discomfort was just in her mind or if something else was going on.

They pulled into Bruce's parking garage faster than Claire had expected.

Bruce turned the car off and then shifted to face her before asking, "Do you want to come up?"

"Yes," Claire answered without hesitation, surprising herself. She wasn't one to jump into things, but the truth had escaped her lips quickly. She knew, though, that the Batman was needed right now, so she added, "But your alter ego has business to attend to tonight."

"I still want you to come upstairs with me," Bruce said. "Even if it's just for a few minutes."

"We don't always get what we want," Claire said.

"Can I get one thing that I want?" he asked.

"What's that?" she asked, leaning closer to him.

Bruce's hand slid across her cheek then up into her hair. "I want to kiss you," he whispered.

"I guess you can get that," she said just before their lips connected. Bruce was insanely good at this, but suddenly Claire heard sirens a few blocks away. There was a fire, and people were still trapped inside the building.

Claire pulled away from Bruce, and when he was about to question her, she put her finger on his lips and swiftly explained the situation.

"You left one of your Blur suits upstairs," he said.

"I'll go change into that," Claire said. "Then I'll help the people in the burning building, and you can go take care of being Batman."

"I would like to try this again sometime," Bruce said.

"Sometime when we don't run into your exes and some crazy magician doesn't show up to make criminals confess," Claire said.

"Yes, preferably without all that," he replied.

Claire kissed Bruce deeply one last time before she moved to open the door.

As she turned away, Claire added, "Or maybe next time we should run into a few of my exes."

"Then next time I'll end up hurting people," he said sternly. "And not as the Batman."

"Goodnight, Bruce," Claire said, smiling before she left the car.

"Goodnight, Claire," he replied before she sped away.

The next morning, Claire tried to prepare for work quickly. She put her hair up and then donned her glasses. She thought she noticed a strange feeling like she had experienced last night, but she tried to ignore it.

Claire was on her own in the apartment; it looked like Chloe had spent the night at Jimmy's, so Claire knew she needed to go to work to tell her friend about what had happened last night. She used her super-speed and was soon at her desk, and Chloe was already there waiting for her.

"So you had a busy night last night," Chloe commented.

"You mean about the fire?" Claire asked.

"No," Chloe answered. "I mean about this." Chloe handed Claire a copy of the gossip pages. Her and Bruce's arrival at the restaurant occupied about an eighth of the page.

"Oh," Claire said.

"Oh? That's it? You have to give me details, Claire," Chloe demanded.

"Well, it was nice—for the most part," she answered.

"Okay, so what were the nice parts and what were the not-so-nice parts?" Chloe asked.

"Bruce is a good dancer and a good kisser, but I'm thinking next time we should avoid going anywhere that he might encounter people he knows," Claire replied.

"Does this have to do with the assistant DA he used to date?" Chloe asked as she skimmed through the other pictures. Chloe found the image she was looking for and added, "She was there last night, wasn't she?"

"Yes, she was, and so was another ex-girlfriend of his," Claire said.

"Geez, what did you do?"

"We watched a magician cast a spell on a criminal to make him confess his crimes to everyone," Claire answered. "It was an interesting night."

Claire suddenly heard hard heels connecting loudly with the floor.

"Cat's coming this way," she said quietly to Chloe. Both of them moved to their seats and focused on their monitors to appear busy.

"Kent!" Cat said, harshly. "You have a lot of nerve. The way you've acted—you should be ashamed of yourself."

"What do you mean?" Claire asked.

"You threw yourself at Bruce Wayne. Don't you have any self respect?"

"Yes, I do," Claire said. "And Bruce was the one who asked me out, so I don't see what the issue is."

"The issue is that you don't deserve what you've got," Cat replied. "And one day Bruce is going to see the mistake he made with you."

"Come on, Cat," Chloe interrupted. "Your problem is that Bruce Wayne asked Claire out and not you. Complaining about it isn't going to change anything, so you should just get over it."

"Why should I?" Cat demanded, before turning her attention back to Claire. "I mean—what's so special about you? What have you got that I don't have that would make Bruce attracted to you?"

"I'm the Blur," Claire said—unable to stop herself. She couldn't believe what she'd just admitted, and Chloe must have picked up on her current bewilderment.

"Stop messing with her, Claire," Chloe said quickly. "Cat's having a bad enough day as it is; you don't need to tease her about her silly anti-vigilante movement too."

"That wasn't a funny joke, Kent, if that's really what it was," Cat said, her eyes narrowing as she glared at Claire.

"Of course, that's what it was," Chloe said, when Claire still found herself unable to give some fake explanation. "Claire just has a quirky sense of humor. Maybe that's what Bruce likes about her."

"Whatever," Cat replied. "You can keep your stupid sense of humor, Kent, and your drunken fool of a billionaire. He was probably completely wasted; that had to have been the reason why he went out with you."

Claire again didn't say anything, and Cat seemed bored from the lack of response. She turned on her heel and left Claire and Chloe alone.

"What was that?" Chloe demanded.

"I have no idea," Claire replied. "For some reason, I couldn't lie to her."

"Try to lie about something else," Chloe suggested.

Claire tried to form words, but she found that she couldn't vocalize anything that wasn't true.

"The magician," Claire said. "He cast a spell to make Richard Daniel confess to his crime, but I also heard a husband last night confess to his wife about having an affair. What if it affected all of us who were at the restaurant?"

It made sense. Her glasses and hair bun were part of her disguise—ways that she lied about her identity. Perhaps the spell was the reason she was feeling pain right now.

Claire was filled with concern. She wasn't a villain, but lies were part of her life. She needed them in order to protect her friends and family—and so did Bruce.

"I need to call Bruce," she said, grabbing her phone before heading up to the roof.

She called him, and Bruce picked up on the second ring.

"Bruce, I think we might have a problem."