Authors note: Hello, hello everyone! I've had this story posted for years, but I've finally decided to revamp it and update it. It will be finished, I guarantee that! Anyways, I hope you enjoy the first chapter of Beyond Normal. I re-read it and tried editing as best I could, but if you find any mistakes...blame it on human error.

Disclaimer: If I owned Batman there would be a new 'Mrs. Wayne'...There isn't, ergo, I don't own Batman. Thanks for killing my dreams.

The Banquet to End All Banquets

Chapter One

What is the real definition of 'normal?'

Normal has been described using words such as 'usual' or 'regular,' but what is it really? Does normal even exist in such a world as this or is normal just a word used to unofficially describe something humans can never achieve yet always strive to understand and possess?

Jenna sighed, letting her chin come to rest on the palm of her hand. It had been a long day. Casting her eyes downwards, she felt herself inwardly groan as her eyes caught sight of numerous papers scattered atop her desk. Her desire to shift through the stack was burnt out from the tiresome day she had been a victim to and she wanted nothing more to leave them untouched and let herself go home to rest. Sighing, she knew this wasn't possible. If she didn't get this paperwork done her boss would have her head. She had been slacking ever since crime – drug dealing in particular – had gone down in Gotham, but recently the offences against the law had taken a turn and escalated causing Jenna to fall behind just as she was catching up. Huffing, she removed her chin from her hand and grasped the papers.

Straightening them out in her hands, her jade eyes scanned the first one that met her vision. It was labeled 'urgent' and so she figured she had been lucky to have shifted it to the top. Reading the contents of the paper, she pursed her lips while reaching a hand up to fold a few locks of her hair behind her ear. After finishing the document, she noticed there was a paperclip attached to the top. Furrowing her eyebrows, she lifted the paper and groaned as she realized the document didn't tell of only one person's crime, it told of a whole gangs'.

"Damnit," Jenna muttered softly to herself as she let the documents flop back onto the desk. Pulling out a drawer, she reached in and grasped a pen before sliding it closed. Grabbing a few post-its, she scribbled down the names of each mob member before yanking off the post-its and putting them in her purse. She figured she could look up information on them when she returned home, leaving the rest of the files for her to do tomorrow.

Jenna knew her boss would throw a fit if he found out she was slacking even more than before, but at the moment her fear of another outweighed her promise to her boss. Glancing at the digital clock that adorned her desk, she cursed again as she realized she was already late leaving work as it was. Sliding rather ungracefully from her chair, she hurriedly obtained her jacket from the coat hanger before reaching for her purse. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she punched off the light switch before heading out the door.

"Your father called." Jenna's gaze snapped to Pam the receptionist, who was currently typing away on her computer. Jenna assumed – knowing Pam as she did – that she was emailing her on and off again boyfriend. Many coffee breaks with the secretary had informed Jenna that the woman was currently dating a man at least ten, if not more, years her senior. 'Age doesn't matter, as long as you're in love,' she had said to Jenna. Her boyfriend was a business tycoon and she could only imagine that love had nothing to do with the young woman's relationship.

"Figures." She replied with a shrug.

"I told him you were busy. His only request was that you would arrive to the banquet on time and suitable." Pam's eyes never met the young woman's as she continued to type, her gaze keen as she stared at the computer screen.

Jenna nodded, not that Pam would even notice due to her concentration on whatever she was typing, and muttered a thanks before migrating towards the elevator. Sighing, she let her hand lift and her finger protrude so that she could hit the 'down' arrow. The elevator dinged as it did everyday before the sliding chrome doors opened letting Jenna step inside. Her eyes watched Pam as the doors began to close. The phone rang and the young receptionist answered, a smile slipping onto her lips. The young woman's emerald orbs observed as Pam's face fell a moment later, her smile vanishing.

"What do you mean you can't make it tonight?" And with that, the doors had closed. Jenna could already predict the storm she would have to endure during break hour the next day. Why Pam always came to her to rant and let some steam off about her wealthy beau was beyond Jenna.

Biting the inside of her cheek, the woman let herself lean back against the wall of the elevator, the cool chrome feeling nice against her spine. Taking a few calming breaths, she let her eyes slip closed for a second before she felt her purse vibrate. The sound of her cell phone's ring tone made her eyes snap open and she growled softly to herself as she reached her hand inside the contents of her purse. Grasping the device, she flipped it open in a flash, holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she shuffled her purse and her coat in her arms.

"Hello?" She knew the irritation was evident in her voice.

"Jenna, I do hope you leave that attitude you're in at work. I would hate for you to be all riled up at the banquet tonight." Jenna felt her lips purse as she bit back a comment, her father's voice alone making her even more aggravated than she already was.

"Yeah, okay." She answered nonchalantly.

"Good." She could practically hear her father smiling and she cringed somewhat. Her eyes flashed upwards at that moment as her eyes picked up the sound of the all too familiar ding. Trying to balance everything in her arms, Jenna made her way off the elevator in a clumsy bustle.

"Listen, Dad, I'm just leaving work so I can't really talk right now. I'll be at your banquet on time, okay?" She hoped this would cut the conversation short.

"I really don't know why you're still loyal to that hellhole you call an office. That boss of yours pays you nothing and you work horrible hours. Why not take up my offer of working at my corporation? I could make you assistant advisor. Your salary would double." Jenna rolled her eyes at the offer. Ever since she had turned eighteen he had been pressuring her to work for him and be, in her opinion, his little stooge.

"I like my job, Dad, and money isn't really an issue seeing as you send me a check every month for more money than I'll ever need." The resentment towards this fact was laced thoroughly in Jenna's tone.

"Well, you can't expect me to believe you could actually live off of the salary you earn from your work." Her father's voice was ringing with amusement making her seethe in sheer anger as she reached in her purse to grasp her keys.

It was true, though. She probably wouldn't be able to support herself if he didn't send her money every month. The first time she had received the check, she had considered sending it back but thought better of it when she imagined the lecture she would receive from her father about rejecting a 'gift' from someone. Her second option was tucking the check away somewhere and forgetting about it, which she did for awhile, but when her salary lowered due to reduced crime rate she sullenly had cashed in the checks every month ever since. Her salary had gone up again and she had considered ignoring the checks once more but figured it wouldn't hurt to have some extra cash lying around and so had continued cashing the checks in. She would never admit to her father that the money came in handy.

"I really have to go." Was the only answer Jenna gave, wanting the conversation to end.

"Alright, alright. Just make sure to be on time. I can't have you interrupting the Chairman's speech again with your lollygagging." His voice was stern, yet the tone did nothing to affect her.

"Bye." She figured he would take that as an 'okay, whatever you say' and so promptly hung up her phone. Tossing it back into her purse, she unlocked her car and slid inside. Her eyes stayed focused on the road as she made her way to her apartment, yet her mind wandered the entire time.

It was true that she probably would be better off working for her father, yet she knew in her heart she could never do that. Maybe it was her pride or maybe it was the fact that ever since she could remember she had wanted to live a life of her own instead of being known as 'The Van der pol Heiress.' She hated money. Money had been the reason for her broken family and corrupt father. His dream had always been to be successful and once he had obtained that goal he was satisfied for awhile. As time passed, though, he grew displeased with his consistent salary. That restless drove him to acquire the desire to become the wealthiest man in Gotham and through that desire had come the neglect of his family. To this day, Jenna knew he was still trying to obtain that unrealistic objective.

It had been because of her father that Jenna had always longed for a normal life; a life where she didn't have to attend banquets, go to private schools, or meet young businessmen who her father deemed worthy to date. When she had turned eighteen she had told her father she wanted control of her own life; she was going to move out. He had agreed to let her do this on one condition: she still had to attend his damn banquets. She had loathed the agreement but figured it couldn't be helped.

Pulling into the apartment complexes, Jenna parked her car in a leisurely manor before turning it off and stepping out. Grabbing her coat and purse, she locked the vehicle before striding up to her door. Jamming the key into the lock, she twisted it to the right and then vertical once more before removing it. Turning the knob she stepped inside. Flicking on the lights, she draped her coat over a chair before tossing her purse onto the kitchen table. Honestly, she could care less about getting to the banquet on time.

She actually thought it would be quite amusing to arrive late and embarrass her father as she usually did. His face turning a deep shade of purple always made her night. Scurrying into the bathroom, Jenna flipped on the shower before getting undressed and stepping inside. The lukewarm water made her sigh in content as it massaged the tense muscles of her shoulders. Taking as long as she could in the shower, she finally decided to get out once she noticed that her skin had started to become prune-like.

Wrapping the towel around herself, she plugged in the hair dryer and flipped it on, letting the hot air tickle her scalp as it dried her deep chocolate tinted tendrils. Her eyes curiously traveled to the clock that occupied the counter in her bathroom and she smirked in amusement as she noticed the time; the banquet had started ten minutes ago. Finishing up with her hair, she left the bathroom and wandered to her closet. Her eyes scanned the shabby contents of it before reaching in and grabbing one of the few dresses she owned. It was black and plain and she figured it would be satisfactory. Letting the damp towel slip from her figure, she shuffled into her underwear before adorning the small dress. Falling onto her knees, then, she pulled out a fashionable pair of black heels. Standing upright once more, she pointed her toes and let her feet smoothly slide inside before stepping back to take a look at herself in the mirror.

Huffing, she squinted as she realized her eyes looked dull with the dark dress she was wearing and so quickly ran into the bathroom and applied a small layer of mascara. She figured that would do the trick and when she went back to observe her overall look, she was glad to see her assumption was correct.

"Guess I better go." She muttered to herself as she made her way back to the kitchen. Grabbing her purse and coat once more, she draped the oversized garment over her shoulders before heading out to her car.

Jenna felt as though the stagnant air of her car as she drove to her father's manor was suffocating her with an overwhelming feeling of dread.

The feelings that had occupied her persona throughout the drive to the banquet only heightened once her car had made its way into the large area her father called a driveway. Stepping lightly on her brakes, she placed her car in park as she noticed a man adorned in an iron-pressed suit strolling up to her car. As he reached the driver's side of the vehicle, he knocked politely on her window. The smile that was pasted on his lips made Jenna want to puke up her non-existent lunch.

Rolling down her window slowly, she offered him a small twitch of her lips. "Good evening, ma'am." She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm Edward, your chauffer. If I could possibly ask you to step out of your car, I will gladly proceed to take it to the parking area."

Biting her lip, Jenna fought back her desire to tell the man to shut up before she slapped some sense into him; it was a hard fight and she was thankful she won. Though the idea of slapping the young man seemed amusing, she knew the consequences wouldn't be worth it. Grabbing her purse, Jenna let the man open the door before stepping out.

Sighing, she watched as he entered the car, closing the door with a soft click before starting the engine and leaving her alone in the middle of the driveway. Taking a few breaths, she let her emerald eyes lift to observe the front door to her father's manor. A few butlers were scattered outside the entrance while middle-aged couples lingered outside conversing with each other about how much money they had managed to obtain through a certain stock or how successful their business had grown over the period of time since the last banquet. Both topics made Jenna feel more nauseous than she already did. She hoped she could avoid being a part of them for the night, though, she knew all too well that was probably an impossibility.

Gathering her coat more around her, she let her feet lead her towards the doors. False smiles were directed her way as she drew near to the butlers and she felt like flipping a one eighty and leaving just as quickly as she had come. Instead, she kept walking, her head turning to face one of the butlers as he addressed her.

"Can I take your coat, ma'am?" Jenna pursed her lips once more before nodding. Shrugging off the large coat, she shivered some as she felt the night's cool air nip and pinch at her vulnerable skin. Dashing a little too quickly inside, her gaze swiftly sought out her father. She was hardly surprised when she found him at the far end of the banquet hall; his arm draped around a woman who Jenna assumed was his new girlfriend for tonight. Hugging her arms around her own silhouette, she made her way slothfully into the room. She caught sight of the hors d'oeuvre table and was considering cornering herself there where she knew she could hide from most people, but her plan was rudely intercepted.

"Jenna Van der Pol." Her eyes darted to the woman who had addressed her using her full name.

"Good evening, Mrs. Whitman." Jenna's face curled into a false smile as she took the woman's hand in her own, giving her a delicate handshake.

"It's good to see you, darling. How have things been?" Mrs. Whitman's voice drawled on slowly as if she felt she had to pronounce every syllable she spoke with an air of nobility. It made Jenna want to gag, but instead she kept on smiling. This woman was married to her father's business partner and so her respect towards the lady was only called for.

"Things have been fine." Her answer was curt and she hoped, just like she had before on the phone with her father, that this fact would cut the conversation short. Of course, with people so highly ranked in society, no discussion could be cut down in length.

"And what about work? Oh, remind me where you work again. My memory can be so bad at times." Jenna knew that the only reason this woman didn't remember where she worked was because her office wasn't one of high standing and so Mrs. Whitman refused to remember its name or business.

"Gotham City Drug Control and Investigation Offices – it's about seven blocks from here on sixteenth street." Mrs. Whitman nodded, though Jenna could tell she wasn't listening to a word she was saying. In all honestly, the older woman appeared as though she was pondering what she should ask Jenna next. "And work has been fine, though, I wouldn't consider that necessarily a good thing considering the only reason work ever becomes 'fine' is when crime is escalating in Gotham."

Mrs. Whitman was beyond looking uninterested and so Jenna stopped her comments about her office and the crime in the city leaving the two in an awkward silence. She hoped this would be her queue to leave the presence of the wealthy woman, but her hopes were proven in vain as Mrs. Whitman struck up another topic.

"Any luck with the men, Jenna? I haven't heard your father speak of any new suitors recently." Her tone was dripping with excitement and Jenna knew she was expecting some juicy secret to be confided in her, which she would then bring up at the next gossip session with her wealthy friends.

"I'm more concerned with work, really. It's been all I can handle." Her answer was truthful, which she gave herself a mental pat on the back for. It was probably the only truth that would pass through her lips throughout the course of the night.

"Not catching many young men's eyes, hm?" The elder lady chuckled as she through out the accusation. Jenna felt her hatred of the high class snob grow all the more. "Well, you can't really be blamed for that. Young men nowadays are devoting their lives to becoming successful and whatnot. Most of them don't consider relationships until their early forties."

Jenna feigned a look of surprise.

"Maybe if you did something a bit more extravagant with the way you wear your hair and makeup, though. Then I'm sure you'd be able to snag any attractive young businessman." She nodded as if to agree with herself. It was obvious how proud she was and by telling Jenna this she thought she had been kind enough to share some secret she had been hiding.

"I'll take that into consideration," Jenna's eyes twitched some as she continued smiling transparently.

"In fact," Mrs. Whitman obviously didn't want to give up on the young lady which in turn made Jenna's desires to blow up in the old woman's face overwhelm her all the more. "I heard from a few of the other ladies that the young, attractive bachelor Bruce Wayne is here tonight. I think it's only necessary that I introduce you two."

Jenna instantly shook my head, declining her offer. There was no way she was going to be introduced to the wealthiest man in the whole entire city of Gotham. Not only did he have enough money to make him suitable to any young lady of high standing, but he was also single. There could be nothing worse in Jenna's point of view. Her father had mentioned Bruce Wayne a few times to her in hopes that she might take an interest in the promising bachelor, but she had shown no interest whatsoever hoping he would drop the topic altogether and fortunately for her, he did eventually. If she were to be introduced to Bruce tonight, though, she knew that her father would swoop in like a vulture to try and set up a date for them. There was no way she was going to let that happen. It was bad enough that she was forced to attend every banquet thrown by her father, but to be set up with a snobbish aristocrat on top of that; it would be enough to drive her straight to the loony bin.

"No thank you, Mrs. Whitman." She let her lips part some so that she could smile all the more, hoping that would help to convince the elder lady to let go of any hopes she had for Jenna. "I was actually just about to make my way over to the hors d'oeuvres. Maybe some other time, though."

Mrs. Whitman looked taken aback by the decline of her offer, but nodded none-the-less. Jenna figured she was contemplating some other way of intervening on the young woman's love life.

Moving quickly past the older woman, Jenna sighed in relief as she made it to the refreshments. Her eyes scanned over the food and she cringed; she should have known her father would only serve coleslaw and caviar with crackers and wine. Just the stench of the appetizers made her want to gag and she quickly turned the other way. She regretted this movement immediately.

"Jenna, it's been so long." The smooth, slightly deep voice was one Jenna recognized instantaneously.

"Brandon," She murmured as she glanced up at the young man. Her eyes observed how his hair was neatly slicked back in a way she seemed to find grotesque. She never remembered him using hair products before, but it had been awhile since their last meeting so she figured many things probably had changed. "How are you?" The question was simple and she figured it was sufficient enough.

"I've been better." He shrugged slight, the wine glass in his hand tilting to the side some making the transparent liquid slosh around clumsily. "I was actually wondering why you haven't returned any of my calls or emails."

Jenna had desperately hoped he wouldn't bring up her obvious neglect towards any contact with him, yet they were labeled now in vain as he finished his accusation. "Sorry," She muttered, though it wasn't even half-heartedly. "I've been busy with work and I figured there wouldn't be much conversation between us now ever since last winter."

"Just because we split doesn't mean I don't want us to keep in contact."

Jenna knew there was more than this. Throughout their relationship – which hadn't lasted very long in Jenna's opinion; about two months if she could recall correctly – Brandon had always been the one to initiate everything. He would always call her to set up a date, he would always come by to bring her flowers to surprise her, he was the one to propose they become more serious. Jenna had never wanted any of it. The only reason she had gone along with it was because of her father. She had ended when Brandon went overseas, blaming the break up on the distance that was to be put between them while he was away.

Reaching a hand up, Jenna nervously pushed a few tendrils behind her ear. She wanted nothing more than for him to just leave her be. How she wished he could read her mind, which at the moment, was clearly thinking of her nonexistent feelings for Brandon.

"We'll have coffee once work calms down, okay?" She hoped this would pacify him for a little while.

It did. "Is that a promise?" Jenna nodded and smiled thickly.

This seemed to satisfy him for the time. Reaching his hand out, he grasped hers in his. He rose their hands slowly before lowering his face, brushing his soft lips against the back of her hand in a gentle kiss. As he pulled his face away, she quickly yanked her hand from his grasp, a blush apparent on her cheeks. There was no need for that kind of gesture where everyone could see. In fact, there was no need for that kind of gesture at all!

Smirking, he gave her one last look-over before turning away to start up a conversation with someone else. She shuddered, resenting how many people she now had to either meet or go out on an awkward 'friend' date with.

After standing undisturbed in an almost calm silence for a little while, Jenna inwardly groaned as she was addressed again. Why did she have to be born with the name Van der Pol?

She smiled loathingly throughout the next several conversations she was put through. Every time she was confronted she felt as if a pair of hands were grasping onto her throat, putting more and more pressure on her trachea each time another individual felt the need to talk with her. Finally the hands had choked her hard enough and she quickly excused herself from the presence of whoever it was she was talking to – she honestly wasn't keeping track. The fact that she was finding it hard to breathe was leaving her a bit lightheaded and so she lost focus on who she was talking to throughout the last few conversations she had become entangled in.

Wandering around the outside of the room for a bit, she grinned inwardly as she found the French doors that led to the balcony were open. Jenna could never remember walking faster in her life as she made her way towards the doors. Her stride was quick for she knew that if she spent a moment longer in that room she would surely keel over from lack of oxygen or normality, really. Reaching the door way, she quickly stumbled out onto the balcony, the night's air fresh and cool in her lungs. She breathed in selfishly, not able to get enough of the crisp air.

"Couldn't handle it in there either?" Jenna literally jumped as she heard the silken voice of another individual. She had assumed she was the only one occupying the balcony.

Turning towards where the voice had come from, she felt her eyebrow rise. Her eyes observed the young man. He was nobility all right; it was obvious from his attire, which consisted of a clean-cut suit, Italian shoes, and a bow tie instead of just an average tie. Jenna seemed to always notice her father and his cronies all wore bow ties and so she figured it had something to do with status. Her gaze wandered to his face and she was surprised to find that the stranger was actually…attractive. His complexion was slightly tanned and was framed nicely with high cheekbones and small slivers for lips. His eyes, which were set nicely under his dark eyebrows, were also a chestnut color matching his perfectly slicked back brunette tendrils.

Realizing that she hadn't answered his question, Jenna let her gaze fall somewhat as she shrugged her shoulders. "I guess you could say that."

She heard him chuckle some making her eyes snap back to stare at his face. He seemed to be laughing at her answer knowing that his assumption had been completely correct. Taking the few steps towards her, he held out his hand while letting a small smirk tug at his lips. Hesitantly Jenna lifted her petite hand letting him take hers within his own and shake it slowly. "Bruce Wayne," He said in a calm tone.

For a moment Jenna didn't respond, taken aback by who he claimed he was. This was Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham? Her eyes seemed to widen some as she stared at the attractive young man, her mind going a mile a minute. Of all the people that could have been out there on the balcony with her, it had to be Bruce Wayne. She hoped that her father or Mrs. Whitman didn't see them shaking hands because if either of them did there would be utter chaos in store for her. First would be a bombardment of questions of how they got introduced and then would come the matchmaking.

Jenna had to get out of there. She had to get out of there fast.

"Jenna Van der Pol," She responded with a small twitch of the lips. "It's nice to meet you really, but I have to be going back inside now. If my father catches me out here he won't be pleased." She quickly retracted her hand from his, letting it fall against her side where it belonged.

Her eyebrow raised more as she saw his smirk widen and she wondered what he found so amusing. "You don't have to lie, Ms. Van der Pol. I can see it in your eyes that you don't want to go back in there, but if you're that keen on getting away from me, then be my guest."

Jenna's jaw dropped. It was as if this man had just read her mind exactly. Her shocked expression must have been quite humorous because Bruce began to chuckle again, his mouth opening some so that his pearl-tinted teeth were shown. Composing herself somewhat, Jenna crossed her arms trying not to scowl at the man.

"It's not that I don't want to converse with you, it's just that my father would be very upset to see me outside and away from the banquet." She figured this was a sufficient enough excuse.

"Do you really care about pleasing your father that much?" She shot a glare at Bruce once the question had left his lips. "Because even if you honestly did, I would think us being caught together alone would make him very pleased."

The comment Bruce made caused Jenna to gag some. "Well, it seems someone is a little full of himself." Forget being polite, Jenna wanted nothing more than to take a few notches out of the man's ego before leaving to go back inside.

"Or maybe you want him to catch us talking together." He raised a suspicious eyebrow, the smirk still apparent on his lips.

"How dare you accuse me of something so low." Her tone was full of spite as she glared all the more, her face growing harsher. "Now if you will excuse me, Mr. Wayne."

Uncrossing her arms, she took a few steps forwards to move past him. She had had enough of that snobbish man's comments and wanted nothing more than to get away from him. She figured enduring the questioning of her father's friends inside would be much better than having to defend herself against Bruce Wayne.

"Wait a minute," Jenna's eyes snapped to the brunette man's as she felt him grasp her arm to hold her back. "Maybe I've come off a bit harsh."

She laughed dryly. "Maybe?"

Smiling somewhat, Bruce used his grasp on her arm to pull her away from her trail towards the French doors, leading her away so that the doors were almost out of sight. Once he was satisfied at their location, he removed his hand from Jenna's arm so that he could take her hand once more in his. "Let's start over, agreed?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, her eyes following their hands. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Van Der Pol." Jenna felt like laughing, finding their second introductory a bit ridiculous.

"Don't call me that. It makes me feel old." It was true, really. Jenna had always hated when people would call her 'Ms. Van der Pol' or even 'ma'am.' It made her feel like a widowed old lady and she resented being called either of those names.

"Sorry," Bruce said in a joking sort of way, finding her resentment towards the name a bit amusing.

Raising his hand that was holding hers, he smirked in a devilishly handsome sort of way before lowering his lips closer to the skin that occupied the back of her hand. Oxygen was lacking in her lungs as she felt his warm breath hit the vulnerable skin of her hand. She wanted so desperately to pull her digits away from him, yet she stayed immobile. Lowering his face the rest of the way, he slowly brushed his slightly chapped lips against her skin.

Jenna felt a shiver divulge from the joints in her hand, the sensation traveling up her arm and then throughout her body making the young woman shudder involuntarily. She could feel that her pulse had sped up tremendously, a feeling that had never occurred when Brandon had executed such a gesture towards her. She quickly glared at the mysterious man knowing full well that he was teasing her.