Disclaimers: I do not own Batman. I never will. I also don't own Gotham and everything else associated with that. I am relying on a lot of things besides my own imagination for this story. I rely on the movies, the novelizations, the screenplays, the comics, and so much more.

A/N: I apologize with all my heart. This chapter took an enormous amount of time to write. And I had certain bouts of writer's block, and school didn't help at all. But I'm back with another chapter. It's probably one of the longest if not the longest chapter in this story. Things get a little more interesting for Bruce and Anne. I hope you enjoy it, and please to review!

Summary: Bruce Wayne's life wasn't perfect and neither was Anne Vera's, but when they met – perfect seemed possible. Yet perfect isn't easy to have – how long will it take for someone to realize that perfect isn't really perfect? Post DK-about five months after.

Falling Slowly – lyrics by Glen Hansard

I don't know you

But I want you

All the more for that

Words fall through me

And always fool me

And I can't react

And games that never amount

To more than they're meant

Will play themselves out

Take this sinking boat and point it home

We've still got time

Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice

You'll make it now

Falling slowly, eyes that know me

And I can't go back

Moods that take me and erase me

And I'm painted black

You have suffered enough

And warred with yourself

It's time that you won

Take this sinking boat and point it home

We've still got time

Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice

You've made it now

Falling slowly sing your melody

I'll sing along

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Another highly anticipated fundraiser extravaganza at our Prince of Gotham Bruce Wayne's undefined in cost penthouse for the orphanages of the city. Plenty of the who's who of whos will be there from gold medalist Nadia Roberts to writer Grisham Noel to multimillionaire David Cross. And of course, the highlight of the night will be not only the amount of money raised but of who our dashing made of billions bachelor will be seen escorting and dancing with… Stay tuned for - "

Bruce turned off the television. He shook his head at the show that he couldn't ever watch for more than a minute.

"Those gossip channels will keep on spewing every time you do things like this, Master Bruce."

Bruce smiled at seeing Alfred's reflection in the mirror. He continued looking at himself and preparing for the night's events.

"Ah, it all comes with a price, Alfred. You are the one that suggested that I should show the world that I have fun…What better fun than showing off my penthouse?" he replied.

Alfred snorted with a soft smile. "I thought this was about charity, sir. Charity for the orphans of Gotham."

Bruce fixed his shirt and buttoned it up while putting a soft perfume for men on his neck.

"Yes, I would never forget the plight of the orphans…" he said seriously knowing fully well that if it wasn't for Alfred he would have become one. He then laughed; tearing a part the slight melancholy and said, "You have fun as well, I know you do."

"Only because of Lucius' company mind you…Without it, I'll surely go mad, Master Bruce." Alfred retorted.

Finally done putting his bow tie on, Bruce examined himself. Satisfied, he turned to Alfred and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I would never put through things like this if you didn't want it to be," he assured.

Alfred nodded. "Indeed, and I thank you for that."

Bruce smiled. "I still can't believe that you have never given up on me."

Alfred grinned. "Never."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Anne really didn't want to be the center of her friends' attention, but unfortunately she was. She wasn't safe at all from their glowingly mysterious eyes and prowling hands.

She knew the danger of resisting. So she just let them their way. She would show them her own brand of controlling vengeance another day.

Everyone except her was already fit to go to the fundraiser. She, in fact, could have gotten ready all by herself, but her supposedly generous friends were adamant at them getting her ready themselves.

So, like a mannequin at the fashion designers whim, Anne sat down in front t of the office's large mirror with her friends attending to her.

How do I get myself in these torturous messes?

Her nails were being done by both Lisa and Louisa while her makeup was being applied by Christine, and her hair was being played with and molded by Sam.

She felt a warm sensation being signaled from her hair. She couldn't look at the mirror since Christine was doing her eyes at the moment.

"What are you doing Sam?" she asked.

"Just getting you all prettified." Sam replied as she started to fix Anne's hair after curling some parts of it.

"Please, it's been over an hour," she moaned.

"We're almost done!" Christine assured with a grin. "Calm down."

"I don't understand why I let you guys do this to me." Anne groaned. "For the love of God, hero."

"Take a chill pill, Anne." Lisa said with a laugh. "Once we are through you'll surely look like a goddess."

I don't want to be a goddess. Anne's luck was just great. She didn't know how long this would take, but she'd rather experience those crappy places. But she doesn't know that. So she just sat down and watched her friends. She inhaled. It was indeed going to be a long night.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Casey looked at her husband with a smile on her face.

Eddie was going to Bruce Wayne's fund-raiser for Gotham's orphanages. He had invited her to come with him, but she declined because the kids were going to come home later in the night.

His job was called for him to go to fund-raisers. He didn't have to go to all of them, because he wasn't the DA, but most of the fundraisers hosts invited Eddie personally.

He was quite a popular guy for a man who happened to be a lawyer for the government.

"Why are you staring at me?" Eddie asked which a sudden thing to Casey's ears was.

She grinned, and looked at him up and down appreciatively. Eddie did look so handsome in his suit.

"You can't blame a wife for admiring her husband's…" she said loosely.

Eddie shook his head, and grinned back.

"My what?" he asked. He didn't feel scared today. Mother-in-law dearest was out. He titled his head for a moment and then spoke again, "My ass? My well hung endowment?"

Casey laughed as Eddie made his way over to her. He gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek as he wrapped his arms around her.

She put her arms around his neck with a giggle.

"And so what if I was? Got a problem with that?" she asked.

Eddie brushed his lips on her cheek and eyes.

Casey sighed as he started kissing her cheek with growing intensity. She felt his hands go under her shirt as they moved up and down her skin.

Her eyes caught the clock.

"You should be going," she said despite the pleasure she was currently feeling thanks to her husband's magical touch.

Eddie didn't answer, but pushed her so that she fell on the bed. He started to unbutton his shirt as his eyes looked on his beautiful wife with much desire.

Casey felt the desire as the heat passed between them. She smiled. Oh what the hell! She grabbed his tie and pulled on it.

The joined together in harmony and as one.

The thought of being late never occurred.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Another fundraiser?" Barbara asked her husband as he put on his dress coat and started to put on his tie.

Jim didn't answer. He just nodded and adjusted his tie.

Barbara didn't know what number this particular fundraiser was, but she did know that Jim went whether willingly or not to them.

She'd had gone with him for some of them, but that was when the children could be looked after.

Tonight wasn't that night. She would have to stay at home.

She couldn't help but feel so saddened over the fact that Jim was going alone. She became even sadder after realizing that for the past week Jim hasn't been intimate with whether in words or in a physical way.

It was like Jim was pulling himself away from her – maybe the whole family. It seemed like the job was consuming him.

"I'm leaving. Give the children a kiss for me." Jim said.

Barbara nodded. She walked over to him and gave her husband a kiss.

But he didn't kiss back.

Disappointed and hurt, but not wanting to show it she smiled.

"I will," she replied. She looked at him deep in the eyes. "I love you."

Jim didn't answer at first. He paused and then kissed Barbara a kiss on the cheek, and then left.

Barbara felt the tears threaten her eyes because he didn't tell her that he loved her. No, he just left.

A terrible fear rushed through her. It was like a premonition of what was going to come had snapped its fingers and revealed itself to her.

She was losing him.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

For the first time, Bruce wasn't going to make a grand entrance. Instead, he chose the simple road of speaking with the hired help as guest came inside. He would just smile and then go about his business for chatting would be later.

Alfred didn't disagree with his charge's choice. He, in fact, approved of it. That choice made his Master Wayne look more personable. This fundraiser was for orphans – and he knew very well that if it wasn't for him gaining custody the young man he loved so much has a son would surely be an orphan.

He watched many come in to support the orphanages and to help their image. He could tell the difference between those two kinds of people. Examples of the egos were definitely the DA Peter Sullivan, the actor Brandon Tomage, and the unsavory millionaire Sidney Cornwall. And of the truly concerned citizens were the likes of him, Master Wayne, Lucius, the ADA Jones, and of course, Anne.

She had decided to wear a long chic black dress that looked Latin made. She had her hair curled, and he detected no sign of make up. And her eyes were bright as emeralds. She was indeed beautiful.

His eyes had glanced at Bruce, and it was evident that the young man thought that as well. Alfred knew him well enough and could see the light come back into Bruce's eyes as a secretive smile placed it on his lips.

Alfred was hopeful. Master Bruce had almost lost his faith. He had almost fallen a part. But now, he was smiling – actually smiling. It wasn't the smile that Batman used. It surely wasn't the smile that playboy Wayne used. No, it was the man in between – it was Bruce that was smiling.

Alfred wanted Mastery Wayne to be happy. He knew that it was unlikely that Bruce would be ready to give up the mantle of the Batman. But he refused to have him give up on being happy on both sides of his life.

And it was clear that Bruce's spirits was being raised by this Anne Vera.

Indeed he was hopeful.

Maybe she'll be his hope.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Anne walked up to Jim while he was talking to Mayor Garcia. She tugged at the older man's coat impatiently, and said with a welcoming smile, "Come with me."

Jim turned to her with a bright smile. He looked at her and basked in her beauty. Her green eyes seemed to more pronounced thanks to her elegant dark dress, and good curls. He nodded at the mayor, and allowed Anne to lead him to the dance floor.

"What were you two talking about?" Anne asked.

Jim shrugged. "The usual…keeping this city safe and all." His eyes were a little mischievous as if he knew something that she did not.

Looking into his blue eyes, Anne felt suspicious. She squeezed his shoulder.

"What?"

"He likes you."

Those three words confused her more than anything. Who was he? Why would anyone like her? Would it be someone she didn't like? For some reason, Wayne came to her mind, but she quickly dismissed that thought as Jim laughed.

"The Mayor. He likes you. You must remember that he's not married."

Anne gave a little smile. "I don't do politicians, Jim."

"I wasn't going to set you two up…I'm just letting you that you have an admirer." Jim said; smiling.

He stroked her face as he smiled wider.

"You look beautiful," he said.

Anne blushed slightly, and swatted his hand. "Thank you."

For some odd reason, the two sensed something amiss in each other as they kept on dancing to slow music that was playing with others on the dance floor with them. This odd feeling that came to them from the other caused great concern and suspicion. They wondered what was wrong with the other

"This fundraiser is getting to you already isn't it?" Jim asked although he didn't need an answer, because Anne's reaction to his question was an answer all itself.

This night was for orphans. This night was for people who lost their parents, or their parents have given them up. He knew that only two people in the world knew Anne was adopted: him and district attorney Jones. He knew that Anne longed to know who her real parents were. And most of all he knew she was searching for a father.

He was the closest thing to a father figure to her. But he knew that he wouldn't suffice. He would just take the name of maybe an uncle, but never a father. He had a feeling that it was right for him not to be her father; that maybe she will find him. But Anne had never mentioned trying to search for her parents. He could only watch, and give all the support he could.

Jim wasn't blind to her longing for her biological parents. He had sensed this void in her. He recognized the void, because he had seen it before. He had seen it on a young boy's face. If there was one thing Anne and Bruce Wayne had in common it was that they lost their parents.

So he decided to not saying, but hold on to her hand a little tighter as he mentally spoke to her his comfort, and his love.

For Anne, Jim's eyes seemed a little lost. It was as if they were replaying some moment in time that he couldn't forget, or maybe just didn't want to. And there was doubt there too. It scared her to see doubt in his eyes. Something was wrong.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Jim didn't answer. His eyes were glazed with another thing that scared Anne. Fear.

"Jim…"

He closed his eyes. "I fear that I'm straying."

Anne didn't understand. "What do you mean?"

Jim opened his eyes and there was pain in them. Anne's fears rose even higher.

"I haven't been thinking about my wife lately. I haven't…I…my thoughts aren't on her anymore…" he whispered regretfully.

Anne's eyes widened. Could this mean what she thought it meant?

"Are you saying that there's someone else?" she asked, careful not to sound to worried.

Jim pursed his lips before replying, "I don't know." He averted his eyes away from Anne's. "I just can't get that woman out of my head."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The dance ended too quickly for Anne. She watched Jim move to the free bar and grab a drink. She knew that they would have to finish the conversation sometime. But it wasn't now.

As she walked to her table, the thoughts of all the pain that would go on if Jim was really to the point of leaving Barbara. She couldn't bear to see anything happen to the Gordon family. They looked so perfect together. She couldn't imagine them splitting a part.

"Well, not that you are all here. I might as well give you all the news…" Sam said as Anne sat down while crossing her arms.

"Yes…" Christine said.

Sam's smiled widen and an utter joy eclipsed her eyes.

"I'm pregnant."

Anne and the others grinned. They each gave Sam their congratulations, and they drank their glasses.

"Who's the father?" Lisa asked.

Anne nearly choked on her drink, but luckily she didn't die or spill any on her dress. She looked at Sam who just rolled her eyes as Louisa struggled not to laugh.

"Her husband." Christine said, controlling her temper.

Lisa laughed. "I knew that…"

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Jim Gordon had just finished speaking the man that found him at the free bar: ADA Craig Creamer. His eye then caught the other ADA Edward Vincent Jones was making his way over to him after he had spoken with DA Peter Sullivan.

With a smile, he shook the man's hand, and said, "Mr. Jones…what did our DA by default want?"

It was no secret that DA Peter Sullivan became the DA after Harvey Dent died. Sullivan wasn't someone that could be corrupted, but he wasn't someone that would take the job and use it to its full potential. He was a man who would be a standstill.

Gotham needed action and initiative, and they weren't going to get it with Sullivan.

Eddie grinned; giving a pausing glance at the said DA. "Nothing in particular – he wanted me to take greater action against Batman, and that when the time came that he'll run and he expects my support."

"And would you?" Jim asked.

"Endorsement or prosecution?"

"Both."

"I'm sure. I don't have to repeat myself…" Eddie started. He shrugged. "That friend of yours. I see no wrong in him…supporting him…" He nodded at the DA. "As for him…not likely."

Jim smiled appreciatively to his answers. "Do you think you're going to run?"

Eddie shrugged. "I'm not politician."

"Anyone is better than Sullivan."

"Too true."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Bruce always made sure that he could always see Anne. She was still sitting at her table talking to her friends. The song that he instructed the band to perform had yet to begin its instrumental beginning that would be his cue to go to Anne, and ask for a dance.

His eye spotted the man that had been spending a lot of his time with Anne which made it a little difficult for him to visit her as Batman. And to top it all off, Edward Vincent Jones had caught him in the act – of caring for Anne.

I should have been more aware.

He liked his private time with Anne. He could always count on her presence softening his hear, and enabling him to see the light in the darkness. But the privacy had been effectively interrupted thanks to Jones.

From his eyes, Anne and Eddie were close. He knew that they were friends. But he couldn't help, but wonder at times. The wonder increased last night when he saw Jones sleep next to Anne very closely.

It was all just a little suspicious and curious.

His eye saw Jones and Gordon having a conversation. He moved to them; drink in hand, and clapped Jones shoulder. He smiled at the ADA and the commissioner.

"Gotham's finest…I'm glad that you both are here," he said genuinely.

He noticed Jim and Jones glance at each other, and then looked at him. Gordon nodded and Jones smiled.

"Mr. Wayne." Gordon greeted.

Bruce made it a point to not smile wider despite the fact that it was indeed true that he was happy that Jim could make it.

"Bruce Wayne…" Eddie repeated with a mysterious smile of his own.

"Forgive my curiosity, but how is that investigation going for the Batman?" Bruce directed the question to both men; intending to get informative reactions out of them. "I told many that Batman was a nut. Unfortunately, it took six men's murders to have everyone realize it."

Gordon momentarily looked down, and when he refocused Bruce saw the hidden pain and little guilt in the older man's eyes at having to hunt Batman down. Jones' eyes on the other hand showed a type of inner fire that suggested anger towards his question and following statement.

Before the two could give him an answer the cue came. His ears perked to the sound, and his heart began to race until he steadied it. He looked at Jim and Jones. Nodding to them, he excused himself and made his way to Anne's table.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Sam smile secretively to herself, but Christine caught it. She looked ahead, above Anne's head and found Bruce Wayne making his way over to their table.

"Trouble ahead, Anne." Louisa said as Lisa grinned.

"Be nice," said Sam.

Anne rolled her eyes. She didn't turn to acknowledge the man until she heard him clear his throat.

She turned; putting a face of slight surprise to see Bruce standing in front of her. She noticed that the suit he was wearing wasn't Armani – no, the clothing looked more traditional kind of James Bond like.

He pulled it off well.

He looked handsome.

"May I have this dance?" Wayne asked with his winning smile.

Anne resisted the urge to roll her eyes again, but not because of Wayne's smile, but because of Lisa's sharp intake of breath.

Hating Wayne, but lusting after him. Gees Lisa.

Returning her focus to Wayne and his invitation, she shook her head.

"I don't think that I'm the perfect dance partner," she answered.

Despite her choice to be friendly with him, she wasn't comfortable enough to dance with him.

Bruce was unfazed. His winning smile became even more charming. His eyes seemed to become browner which for some reason looked a little familiar to Anne.

And when he spoke his voice was filled with confidence, and friendliness.

"Nobody's perfect. Perfect is just an illusion," he replied.

Anne nodded at the words, but she immediately countered saying, "True, but perfect also happens to be a standard; the number one goal. We all work for perfection. We all look for perfect."

Bruce's eyes flashed. He also nodded as his mile lost its winning part as if prepared to fight to get it back.

"Believe me. Perfect is an ideal; a concept – nothing more," he retorted but without an edge.

Curious, Anne asked or concurred with hidden skepticism, "So you don't believe in perfect."

Bruce laughed, but his smile was gone. Instead, certain seriousness comes to his demeanor.

"Perfect is something to be learned and to be found. Perfect depends on a person's own definition," he said. The music started to play again but this time with a different song; a song he seemed to recognize. "Now stop stalling… Is it a yes or no? Because if it's a no, then I need to go find another dance partner."

A little thrown by the tone in Wayne's voice, but also confused by the way his hazel eyes captured her, Anne said – albeit a little slowly -, "Yes."

Bruce grinned and extended his hand.

What am I getting into?

Anne glanced at her friends, and with a little hesitation took Wayne's hand.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Holding Bruce Wayne's hand was not exactly unnerving, but very confusing to Anne. Here she was holding a man she once ignorantly hated hand and having his other hand at her side.

She somehow felt insecure and slightly uncomfortable by the predicament she was in. This was not like dancing with Jim or Eddie. Those dances were familiar.

But the one she was having with made her feel plain terrified.

I'm terrified.

Why?

"I'm glad you came." Wayne said after a few moments of silence.

Holding Anne Vera's hand was so strange to him. It was so different from holding her hand as Batman. This was him, not the playboy, but as him – the real Bruce. He wasn't sure if she knew that, but he did. The feel of her skin on his was electric. He surprised himself by liking the feel of giving warmth to her interestingly cold hand.

He felt a little unsure, but also a little excited. The thought of feeling guilty since it had been only a few months since Rachel died had occurred to him. But he was tired of grieving. He did think at first that he would be alone forever.

And then you came.

Anne was someone; someone worth talking to. Someone he actually took a liking to. She was someone he couldn't help, but feel something for.

She still hadn't answered him. He gave her a look and saw that her eyes were looking everywhere, but him.

"You look uncomfortable," he notified.

Anne steadied herself as they kept on dancing.

"No," she insisted, but her voice was low. "I assure you I'm not."

Not quite believing her, Bruce asked with an assuring smile, "Then what is it?"

Anne opened her mouth; an answer was in her mind, but then it vanished. The quickness she had before suddenly disappeared. She could no longer produce a witty remark.

"I don't know," she resorted to say.

And she didn't. She couldn't help but feel stupid.

"Well, if you don't want to dance. I won't mind. No insult taken." Bruce said as he took his hand off Anne's side.

Anne shook her head. She didn't want to ward him off with her stupid nervousness.

"No, I'm here already," she said; hesitation was gone, but the slight uncomfortable-ness stayed.

Bruce put his hand back to her side with caution.

"You have a right to choose," he replied, but inside he wanted to dance ye he knew it was her choice. He wanted her to want to be with – near – him.

The way Wayne said his reply almost made Anne shiver, but instead she shifted a little and then looked him in the eye.

"I choose…" she started, but she stopped because she noticed the way Wayne's hazel eyes seemed to change. "I choose to dance," she continued after recovering from her curiosity at the quick distinct change in the other's eyes.

She had wanted to speak about her regret but she didn't know how. So she just summoned whatever courage she could summon and spoke.

"I've been incredibly hypocritical lately – particularly when concerning you," she admitted apologetically.

Bruce didn't' respond. His fascination with her eyes still ruled. So green…So different…every time I see you… He did hear her apology, but he couldn't answer. Her eyes seemed to stop in from responding.

Taking in his silence as him wanting more from her apology, Anne realized that her words may cause more damage then she anticipated. Was I that callous?

She couldn't read the look in his eyes. She, like Sam, was fairly skilled at reading other people's eyes except for each other, and for Jim and Batman. But now Bruce Wayne joined the group of the unreadable.

It was quite funny and annoying at the same time. She did pride herself on the ability to see what others couldn't. But there were now four people she couldn't read: Jim, Sam, Batman, and Wayne. Plain frustrating… Why? Because it wasn't just the fear of loving a man that was an unfortunate leftover from him, but there was also the need to know what people may be thinking and being able to hide everything from those people.

But with the group of four which now included Wayne – they were not just unreadable. No, they seemed to be able to read her; for she prided herself on the art of concealment.

"I was rude," she continued. "I'm never rude – heh, okay, I've been rude before…I mean – well, only if it was deserved…" She paused. "And you didn't deserve any of it."

Softening at the guilty tone, Bruce smiled once again in assurance. Thinking about his own behavior he said, "It was warranted."

"No. You didn't deserve my contempt. You didn't deserve my opinionated judgment." Anne insisted; this time brave enough to look at Wayne squarely in the eye, and somewhat not understanding why Wayne was blocking her from her apology. "I was – horrible to you. It's me – the hypocrite."

Bruce shook his head. Why was she taking all of this too hard? But then again… "I doubt that."

Successfully rolling her eyes without feeling like an annoying bitch, Anne said, "No need for a sense of denial. I was a hypocrite."

She suddenly felt ashamed.

"I never liked you."

Bruce refrained from raising an eyebrow. Her eyes seemed dim. "Is that so?"

That was all he could ask. He had a feeling that if he stopped Anne from pouring out her regret that it would be a huge mistake on his part, and that it would make him feel regretful as well.

"I constantly ridiculed you to almost anyone – everyone – especially to my girlfriends." Anne confessed. "I'm so sorry."

The guilt of being something she didn't want to be filled her and once again she looked away.

Sensing that the guilt should be defused immediately, Bruce replied quickly but with no edge in his voice, "Don't be." He had an urge to touch her face, but he pushed that urge away. "I don't necessarily give off welcome good vibes."

Simplicity is definitely a part of you. "Neither do I." Anne said softly almost in whisper type of tone. You can't keep hiding yourself Anne. You better hurry. Or else those walls of yours will suffocate you.

Bruce was silently alarmed by the sadness and the underlying defeat in Anne's voice. It sounded as if she was lost. He wanted to reach out, but he couldn't say it out right. I have to be slow about this.

"I never got a bad vibe from you," he finally said.

Anne swerved her head and faced him again. She was about to say something as if believing he was lying for her sake, but then she looked into his eyes and found nothing. His voice sounded genuine despite her instant hypocritical misgivings. Yet she still doubted his statement.

"Really? If I remember correctly, it was you that said: simplicity is definitely a part of – me." Anne countered; finally getting back some of the fire that she was used to being inside of her.

Bruce almost forgot about that – almost. It had been a hostile conversation; one that he could never forget. It was also one that replayed over and over again in his mind.

"Oh – that. Yes…"

Realizing Wayne may have had a tiny lapse of memory loss, Anne smiled slightly.

"Yes, that."

Glad at finally seeing a smile on Anne's face, Bruce retorted with good humor, but nevertheless was sincere, "Well, then I apologize. Your words instigated my own."

Sadly, when you had to mature when your parents died…You were the only one left. I know what that's like, but you changed again. You matured and then retarded back to a child – a spoiled one; an ignorant one – a child that people admire and say he looks so handsome, but when thought hard about – just another man living life to the "fullest" but only winding up face down – alone.

She again looked away at hearing her own words towards him from that fateful night. "I know." God, I was cruel.

"All's forgiven then?" Bruce asked; determined that between the two of them there would be no more foul feelings for misunderstandings. Please say that it is. He was ready for it. He hoped Anne was too.

Forgiveness? That was what it was all about wasn't it? Following a choice was a priority, and she was on her way to succeeding. But she still felt unsure.

She slowly looked at him in the eyes, but didn't feel the fire once again. She felt a little weak. She felt like she was going to start shaking.

"I hope so."

Those three words and the way they came out of Anne's lips, and the way her green orbs seemed to dull tugged Bruce's heart. He smiled gently, kindly, and with much welcome to her.

He made his grip on her hand a little tighter, but not to sharply that he would hurt her. He did it to assure her.

"Then we start over," he suggested with more than hope in his heart.

That sounded so good to Anne. She nodded, and gave him a stronger smile.

Satisfied, Bruce nodded as he too smiled stronger. "I'm Bruce Wayne."

It was then Anne noticed the way Bruce was holding her hand. No longer was his grip loose; detached. It was now a little tighter, but not tight enough to hurt. It was more of a strong pull to take her out of her guilt.

It alarmed her.

She couldn't help, but feel shy. Yet she answered just as politely, "I'm Anne Vera."

"Hello, Anne."

"Mr. Wayne."

Bruce shook his head with a slight chuckle.

"Bruce," he insisted.

He didn't want her to be formal. He wanted her friendship. I want… He didn't know if he could full comprehend the end of that thought.

Once again, Anne felt hesitant. She knew what it meant to say someone's preferred name. It meant going near familiarity; going to the personal. Was it wise? Was it what she wanted?

Choice.

"Bruce…" she finally said; adjusting herself.

Bruce grinned. Her voice saying his name was – well, he didn't know what it was. He just knew that he liked the way she said his name.

He was going to say something, but noticed the look on her face. She clearly wasn't on the topic of them, but something else.

"What is it?" he asked; curious.

"People – everyone is watching us…intently…" Anne replied. She didn't like it one bit. Too intently…

She felt eyes following her as she went to dance with Bruce, but now just about everyone including the others on the dance floor were watching them. They were all watching as if this was the biggest sort of show they had ever seen.

It was annoying.

Bruce's keen eyes saw what she saw, but remained its attention on his dance partner.

"Don't worry about them," he advised. "Giving them attention will just put fuel to the fire."

Anne raised an eyebrow momentarily. "Ignoring them is hard to do when their eyes widen each time we spin around the floor. I can just see wheel's turning."

Sighing, Bruce said, "They're wondering if you are going to be my next…" He couldn't finish the sentence. It felt wrong.

Anne was sharp enough to sense the ending of the sentence. She looked at him closely with interest.

"Conquest," she finished.

And there they were. This was one of the reasons why Bruce was so enamored with her emerald spheres for eyes.

They had become so sharp. It was piercing, and slightly unnerving. Indeed her eyes were powerful. He knew that her eyes could manipulate, prod, and hold anyone. And for some reason, he could tell that Anne sometimes didn't know how powerful her ever changing and multi emotional emerald eyes were.

"Yes," he agreed; letting his eyes momentarily look on the onlookers discreetly. He then spotted a specific pair. He grinned. "But if you notice the two old men - one with the champagne and the other with the silver hair – to our left…I promise you....They are probably thinking if you will be my potential partner."

Partner? Anne's eyes widened. "Wife?" she asked as an unwilling, but welcoming grin formed on her lips. That's not desperate.

Bruce laughed at the look on her face. It made her look more human and less regal. Regal? Yes, she did have a form that shouted regality. He just didn't know why.

"The one with the champagne in particular is trying to make – trying to find a match," he explained. He laughed again. "I guess my 'playboy' ways irritate him to no end."

Anne laughed as well. But the question was there. Why hadn't Bruce gotten into a relationship? Why wasn't he married? But the playboy persona… That may have been a factor. It could have warded all women. But despite that she knew women. She knew that most women thought of Bruce as probably one of the most attractive men in the world.

Did she think of him as attractive?

By the way he grinned; the answer had to be a yes.

"Why haven't you?" she asked.

Bruce's face darkened and then paled. Anne realized her mistake then. Rachel. Of course, it made sense. She didn't know a lot about the woman or for that matter – that much about Bruce, but she was a person who knew how to read between the lines. And what she saw was a connection – that could have led to a relationship. But then again she could be wrong. Could she? It was none of her business anyway. What did she care?

Did she?

Bruce almost faltered at the question. Rachel's face suddenly emerged in his mind. But then she disappeared and all he saw was Anne. The feelings of grief had come as usual to claim him when he remembered Rachel's face. But Anne's steadied him, and that gave him hope.

He thought carefully about the question Anne gave him. Yes he did have a plan to settle down. After Gotham was free, or when it had someone like Harvey Dent came to town, he had been prepared to give up Batman. He wanted to be with Rachel. He wanted to live the rest of his life with her. But then she died, and he felt so alone. He grieved and grieved until – until Anne. It was Anne that proved to him that despite heartbreak life can still flourish.

There's hope left in the world.

So when he answered he knew that it was the correct answer. "Haven't found it yet," he simply said.

It seemed like a vague answer for Anne. It was an open-ended answer to an open-ended question. She wanted him to confirm her suspicions or to destroy them, but she knew she wouldn't receive anything. She could ask something else, but she wouldn't.

Instead, there was silence.

"How much do you know about me?" Bruce asked. He saw something in her eyes, but he couldn't read it. He just had a gut feeling.

Anne shrugged slightly. "I only know what you let people know." That was the truth, because she knew a person never gives anything away unless it's to a person that that person loves. Nothing is as it appears.

Wanting to get closer to Anne, and hoping that she wouldn't scoff at him for trying to be trustworthy and friendly, Bruce asked, "Do you know about Rachel?"

"Yes." Anne slowly answered. She didn't know where this part of their conversation would go. "Your childhood friend, right?"

Bruce nodded. "Yes, she was." He smiled a confident smile, but he couldn't keep it for that in itself would be a lie. "I was…"

"Going to have a future with her." Anne finished once again; quite concerned about Bruce's feelings over the late Rachel Dawes, and also hoping that she hadn't and wouldn't bring horrible memories back in the man's head.

"I had hoped to." Bruce corrected. He didn't dare mention the fact that he was Batman and that Rachel had been waiting for him to leave that mask behind.

Anne squeezed Bruce's hand.

"I'm sorry," she said sympathetically.

Relishing in her sympathy, but also not wanting to be pitied, Bruce replied, "Don't be. I'm fine by myself."

Eddie's words echoed again in her mind. You can't keep hiding yourself Anne. You better hurry. Or else those walls of yours will suffocate you. Anne's heart started to slow. She didn't feel right anymore. She knew that she was going to start shaking. But she was determined not to.

"Don't say that," she replied a little roughly as an urge to cry out came to her mind. No! She wouldn't. She couldn't let that happen. She would not be overwhelmed.

Bruce was alarmed by Anne's change of posture. No longer did she look confident and regal. She now looked empty. Her eyes were pale and they lost its shine and the sharpness dulled. It was like she was pulling away from both him and the world. She was shutting down; freezing herself in.

He had never seen Anne do that before. And if he wasn't watching he would have missed the change. The change was so rapid; it was like a phenomenon. But yet it looked so familiar to him as if he had seen this before – as if he had done this before. And it also looked strangely familiar on Anne. As if she had seen this before – as if she had done this before.

And that made him worry more.

The music stopped. They separated. Anne was glad with that, but Bruce wasn't. They both along with everyone else clapped.

"People can live alone." Bruce said; trying to bring out that fiery spirit he knew Anne had.

No, they can't. There was only pain. Anne shook her head.

"Being alone isn't that great."

Bruce's heart broke at the pure ghost like quality in Anne's voice. He didn't know what to say.

There was nothing to say.

Except… "Thank you."

Anne felt nothing. She just nodded. "You're welcome."

She turned away and walked back to her table. She had enough of the night. She wanted to go home. She needed to escape.

All Bruce could do was watch helplessly as she walked away. She had just revealed something important. He had just found out that she wasn't what she seemed.

She was just like him.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Lucius watched Anne walk away from Bruce once the music stopped that particular song to that particular dance. He had noticed some particularly interesting things about that dance. Bruce had almost seemed shy maybe even a little hesitant before he asked her to dance. The billionaire had always been confident during these types of events. It clearly met something.

His mind flashed to when he saw Bruce have a few men hang up a certain painting.

"Interesting piece of work, Master Wayne," he said after it had been hung up.

Bruce smiles, but his eyes remain on the painting.

"Yes, it certainly is…" the once young man replied.

And now he was certain that there was a new light in Bruce's eye.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Alfred watched Master Bruce face throughout the dance. He knew the man better than anyone and saw what he had wished to see on his charge's face for quite sometime. He saw hope beyond reckoning.

His mind flashed to when he burned the letter Rachel had written Bruce. He knew that Bruce would break down if he wanted it to. So he had to do what he did. It was the only way.

And he saw hope in Anne.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Immediately concerned to see the way Anne walked away from Bruce Wayne, Eddie at first wanted to ask his best friend for a dance.

But he held himself and waited for a better moment.

And this is it.

The music picked up again after everyone feasted on the high class, easily seen as expensive and remarkable tasty dinner that was served free courtesy of the man who held the fundraiser: Bruce Wayne.

He gave himself and Anne a minute. So that their stomachs can rest for a moment.

After this, he took her hand, and practically pulled her on the dance floor.

"Eddie! I was talking to someone!" Anne complained although a grin up welcoming was on her face.

Eddie just smiled, and his eyes noticed that people – not all, but some of the guests were watching.

He pulled Anne closer to him and replied, "Too late. We're dancing."

Anne rolled her eyes, and then squeezed Eddie's hand tightly.

Something's wrong.

He could tell by the way Anne's skin felt. There was no warmth; just a cool touch. And her once intensely bright or drastically dull emerald eyes were empty.

He's seen this before. His mind searched through the possible causes. And only one struck.

Her dance with Wayne.

"Tense dance with our prince," he said; almost casually. He looked deep at Anne's face. "What happened?"

Anne blinked and looked at Eddie in the eyes.

"Nothing," she replied. Her eyes glazed with something Eddie couldn't understand. "Nothing important anyway."

"It looked important." Eddie persisted. He knew something was up and he wouldn't let go until he got an answer. "For my eyes it looked like it meant something."

Anne didn't answer, but she overtook her eyes from his.

Many different answers came into his head, but he needed hers.

So he asked, "What did he say." She gave him nothing. Then it came – a question she could attack on. "What did you say?"

Anne's head snapped back to Eddie. Her green orbs finally regaining some of its luster.

She looked defiant, but he could clearly see the cracks.

And he could hear it too.

"Nothing," she replied.

She was begging him to end his not so subtle interrogation.

Eddie smiled, and conveyed through his eyes that he wouldn't let the subject go. He would just momentarily put it aside.

"Seems Mother Dearest is staying a bit longer than expected." Eddie mentioned.

Anne laughed slightly; obviously appreciating the change of subject.

Eddie smiled, and conveyed through his eyes that he wouldn't let the subject go. He would just momentarily put it aside.

"Seems mother dearest is staying a bit longer than expected," he mentioned.

Anne laughed slightly; obviously appreciating the change of subject.

"I still can't believe you are afraid of your in law," she said. "And to top it all off you run to my place for about a week to hide from her."

Eddie shrugged. "It's true. You never protested albeit some incoherent grumbling about the situation," he pointed out.

"I want to hear you say that you were and still are afraid." Anne replied with a slight grin.

"Why should?" Eddie asked; readying himself to refuse the request which sounded more like a demand.

Anne raised an eyebrow, and put her hand on the back of his neck, and stroked evilly.

"If you don't – you will have no place to stay," she threatened with her sweetest voice.

Eddie tried to shake off her method of persuasion, but he couldn't. He finally nodded.

"It was a shocking arrival that would only speak of pain and humiliation thus concerning this surprise visit – I, of which deftly obtaining permission from both my wife, children, and dog, made a hasty retreat using the excuse of some very important business that would make me stay longer than usual in my office, and/or in some cases meetings that would take a reasonable amount of hours to finish. So I swiftly departed to reach over to your place for a considerable length of refuge under your expected to be greatly generous and kind hand and watchful eyes, and was rightly received despite a few subtle complaints and friendly teasing of which I took without any argument for I was grateful to be in a safe haven away from the dreaded figure of one called mother-in-law."

He took a deep breath and nodded. He was done.

Anne didn't know whether to laugh or to be very afraid at the obviously long, confusing, and quick answer to her request that she gave him.

She just stared at him blankly.

"Paraphrase," she suggested.

Eddie shrugged once again. "Uh, sure…Basically I'm saying that I am and probably will always be afraid of my mother in law."

Anne looked at him closely. "Well, why didn't you say that in the first place?"

They looked at each other.

And then they laughed.

"Well, I'm staying over again tonight. I'll be there after I say goodnight to my family." Eddie finally said after their laughter.

Anne rolled her eyes playfully. "Again? I guess…" She squeezed his shoulder. "You need to bring extra clothes then if you are going to make this a habit."

Eddie smiled. "I'll do that."

"The things I do for my friends." Anne said; sarcasm dripping.

Eddie chuckled with feign surprise. "Pardon?"

Anne's emerald eyes shined.

"Nothing."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"They are so cute together!" Lisa exclaimed; eyes wide as saucers as she watched Anne and Eddie dance.

Christine rolled her eyes and gave an informative glance at Louisa. Louisa nodded and in turn slapped Lisa on the back of her head.

"Ouch!" she cried as she rubbed her head.

Sam laughed and patted Lisa's shoulder. She then gave Louisa and Christine a look of slight approval.

"What?" Lisa said after receiving questions and humor in her friends' eyes. "They are… I don't know who she looks better with…"

"As in him and Wayne?" Christine asked; pointing discreetly at the men as she said their names.

Lisa nodded enthusiastically. "Yupity yup."

"He's married, Lisa!" Louisa reprimanded; shaking her head at what Lisa was thinking.

"So?" Lisa said as she looked at her friends.

"That means something."

Everyone locked their eyes on Sam. She had been quiet for most of the conversation except for that one laugh. Usually, it's Sam who keeps a silent face, and when she speaks people tend to listen.

"Sam?" Louisa asked; not understanding.

Sam just shrugged; nonchalant as she took a sip of her water.

"Like I said before. Eddie is a lot like Anne," she clarified.

Knowing now where she was going, Christine added, "So that begs the question…"

Sam nodded. "It's easy to see how much in common they have with one another."

"Best friends." Louisa pointed out.

Lisa knew they all were on the same page now. "Longer than any of us."

They all looked at each other, and then finally at Anne and Eddie.

Sam smiled slightly. "Why not?"

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Bruce couldn't help, but feel the rise of some sort of burning feeling inside the pit of his stomach. It was like that feeling when rage comes over him, but the difference was that he didn't feel something burning him inside out. No, he felt a burning flame that didn't become smaller or bigger. It was a burning flame that stayed. It gave that occasional lick, but that stingy lick brought more pain then any boiling anger.

This feeling wasn't new. It only came because of someone else once before.

It was jealousy. And the last time he felt jealous it was seeing Rachel with any man especially the late Harvey Dent?

Why was he feeling jealous? How could he? Anne was her own woman. And besides he made no move toward Anne to warrant this feeling. He hadn't been upset when as Batman he saw them together – okay, only once he did.

And yet…

He knew he made a connection with her as Batman. He had become her protector. It was only for her that he lingered.

But jealousy?

He wanted to make amends. He wanted to prove to her that he wasn't a playboy. He wanted friendship.

I want…

Did he want more? Was that why he felt that flame; that surge of jealousy? Was that why he felt this urge to storm to the dance floor and interrupt that dance?

He quickly grabbed a glass of champagne from a waiter and downed the drink.

I…

He wanted to be the one dancing with her.

Could it be that he wanted Anne? Could it be that it wasn't just friendship that he was searching for?

The music stopped. People clapped. His eyes were glued onto Anne and Eddie. They break a part; both smiling. Anne kisses Jones on the cheek. Jones bows and kisses her hand. They return to their tables.

His heart lurches.

He closes his eyes momentarily, and in doing so he saw only Anne, and her emerald eyes.

He opened his eyes, and looked at Anne's table.

Ever since Rachel died, he felt that there was no future. That was worse than feeling alone. And for some extraordinary reason, he knew that somehow Anne made him more free and together than before.

He knew that he needed companionship. He knew that he didn't want to be alone.

He didn't know what he felt for Anne exactly.

But he did know that Anne was the symbol of something great.

Hope.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The fundraiser had ended and Anne felt mentally exhausted. The night had been an interesting one to say the least for her. Her very close friend, and confidant Jim just told her that his thoughts had seem to be straying from his wife. She was careful not to judge him, but being supportive was hard when she liked Barbara. And what of the kids? She needed a much longer talk with Jim.

Despite the news, she did feel a little better when she found out about Sam's pregnancy. Sam and her husband had been trying for many years now. She was really happy for them. They would make really wonderful parents.

But then Wayne – Bruce came over to their table to ask her to dance. Why did I have to say yes? She knew why. Because I don't want to be less than what I can really be. Decisions had to be made and choices were taken. She had forgiven him and he had forgiven her. But then the conversation strayed and she couldn't help but feel suddenly drained; empty of what was in her. She felt numb; terrifyingly numb. And what made it worse was the look Bruce kept giving her. It was far too unnerving.

She thought that she'd feel more relaxed after getting away from the man and back to the comfort of her girlfriends, but no, she found none. It was like nothing was inside of her.

And Eddie – he made her feel nothing even more. The dance – he started the dance to get information out of her. She wasn't sure – no, she knew that she could hardly stone her features from his knowing eyes. But luckily she was able to convince him to hold off his curiosity using his mother in law against him.

A sharp hiss came to her ears. She shrugged it off. She knew that she would have accepted a ride from Jim, or the girls. But she knew she couldn't. She would feel like – nothing again. She would take the Gotham Rail. Until then, she would be walking for about fifteen minutes.

Danger.

She shook her head at the thought. She had her handy dandy pepper spray with her.

She should really ask Jim for some lessons with a gun or Eddie for hand to hand combat. But for now she must rely on herself. And Batman… She smiled slightly. But then again, she can't always rely on the Dark Knight.

The sharp hiss came again, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of ear. She then heard the sound of a running engine. The twinge of ear became greater. So she started waling a little bit faster. But she could still hear and feel the obvious sound of a car following her.

This is just my luck. Why did she have to attract the mentally challenged? Why did she have to attract the dangerous ones? She stopped in her tracks and turned. She didn't know why, but she wouldn't start running. For some stupid reason, she wanted to confront. God, help me if I die because of this…

She braced herself, but a blow from impact never came. Instead, the car was beside her. It was a black car from the company that made the Jaguar. It was a wealthy man's car.

She was about to guess on who it was in her mind when the car's back window rolled down to reveal a very familiar face.

It was the richest of them all.

Bruce Wayne.

Anne didn't know whether to feel outraged or strangely pleasantly surprised. She was curious though. What was he doing out? But then again, he was the richest man in Gotham. He could practically do whatever he wanted.

A small smile was on lips as he looked at her. He looked up and down for a bit and then arched an eyebrow.

"Why do you walk; in this time of night?" he asked.

Normally, Anne would want to defend herself just out of pride. But for some reason, she didn't have the heart. And the nothingness; that emptiness wasn't inside her anymore.

Strange… She became empty because of him. And now she didn't.

"I came here by cab," she replied. "I didn't feel like paying."

Bruce's eyes shined. "It can be dangerous out here…" he paused; looking down for the moment after he spoke.

"A young woman dressed to kill alone can be dangerous… Don' you think I can care for myself?" Anne replied; finding herself smiling despite the fact.

Bruce laughed.

Anne didn't know why, but there was something in that laugh. It was a lot like an inside joke laugh, but she didn't think she'd ever be privy to his joke.

Little did she know, but it was really an inside joke laugh for Bruce knew fully well that Anne could protect herself fairly well with that pepper spray can of hers.

You're strong Anne. He opened the door; making her step back and moved to the other side. He held back a laugh at the look she gave him.

"C'mon in. It's late. You shouldn't be going home alone," he insisted.

Anne hesitated. She had to really think this through. Bruce had given her an invitation to get in his car. Okay, my choice of words. She knew he was just lending her a helpful hand. But she didn't know Bruce. And he didn't know her.

But – for some reason Anne knew protesting was – would be just plain useless. There was something coming off of Bruce – something that somehow made Anne feel strangely comfortable. And yet that sense of comfort was unnerving all the same.

"If I must…" she murmured as she got into the luxurious looking car, and closed the door.

Bruce smiled inwardly. He looked at Anne in all her strange ugly beauty, and nodded to Alfred to start driving. He leaned back; turning slightly and looked at her closely as Anne put on her seatbelt.

Placing the side of his palm on his cheek with his index finger alone on his upper lip and the middle finger above his chin, he said, "Safety first."

Anne tilted her head in response, and then turned to him slightly; careful not to disturb the restraint of the seatbelt.

"Self preservation comes easy to me," she quipped.

Bruce smiled; putting his hand down, and let his arm rest on the door arm rest.

"Do you want me to follow suit?" he asked with an undertone of playfulness that he rarely let out.

Anne allowed a smile in return. She tucked a strand of stray hair behind her ear, and said, "Well…free will and all… I don't like giving peer pressure." She mildly surprised herself with that reply, but she didn't know why she was surprised.

Both were amazed at how freely they sort of bantered. It seemed so easy. There was no sign whatsoever of a threatening tension like the last two times they met.

"Tell Alfred where you live." Bruce instructed.

Anne looked at the very well aged white male with snow like hair that was clearly receding.

"By Metro…East Side…near Riverview…"she informed.

Alfred nodded. "Very well, Miss Vera."

Bruce smiled wider.

They both saw the Englishman smile. "Very well, indeed."

Anne was curious. It was past midnight. What did Bruce need to do so late in the night especially considering the fact that he had just had a big fundraiser.

"Last I checked, the game is over. We won." Anne started; looking closely at the man. "And that was more than two hours ago."

Bruce nodded. "No, not I'm going to a spectator sport event…something else…entirely." He couldn't let her know that he was visiting the construction the wing where Batman would go through once the manor was finally rebuilt.

"Then where are you going?" Anne asked, but not in a way to sound like she's pushing the issue.

"I've to some thing to attend to – personally." Bruce replied emphasizing on the last word "personally."

And he made sure Anne heard no tone of irritation even though he wasn't feeling it, or even close to that emotion.

Respecting the answer, Anne nodded and said, "Have you yet estimated the fundraiser's earnings?"

"Not yet." Bruce answered. "But I've made sure donations were made by everyone."

They both had flashes of his opening speech.

"Ladies and gentlemen! I thank you all appreciatively for coming to my temporary abode to participate in this fundraiser. Now, I really do suggest for you to donate. I had invited you all on the sole purpose for helping those in the five orphanages here in Gotham. Now, I can relate to these children. As you all know, my parents were murdered in front of me when I was ten. I could have been an orphan. Maybe I was. But these children didn't and still don't have the billions to inherit. But with the help and support from all of you, these children won't just be taken into someone's home and become a part of the family, but also have the greater chance of succeeding when that doesn't happen. So, to begin the donations whether public or private – I give a million to the five orphanages."

Little did Anne know, but Bruce knew she had been adopted. He couldn't help but find that piece of information. He went no further. He wanted to know more about her. But he couldn't go any further. If he gets more information on her it would be from her. He knew as much about her as she knew of him.

"What you did was a good thing." Anne told him. He looked into her green orbs and found them glistening. "I can't badmouth it."

Bruce grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should." Anne recommended with a slight grin. That similar grin on Bruce's face made him look less debonair and more down to earth. "I have a habit of criticizing – unfortunately."

"Oh, I know, but you should know that I tend to flaunt my celebrity." Bruce admitted with a fuller grin and a slight chuckle. He gave a nod, and added, "Unfortunately."

Then came a sweet sound to his ear. It was her laugh. It was low and musical. Beautiful. This made Bruce's spirits rise higher.

Admitting faults is a start. That thought had made Anne laugh. She was amused, and felt herself feel calmer. It seemed strangely easy to converse with him now.

"I know." Anne replied. "But I'm sure you and I have a lot more inside despite our actions."

"It's not who you are underneath, but what you do that defines you." Bruce recited from memory without a second thought.

He was surprised and could see the similar reaction from Anne' tightening jaw.

"In the end, what's underneath saves us." Anne replied; her tone suspiciously weak.

Or destroys us. They both thought.

A deep silence fell between them.

Anne could feel herself start to shut down, but she fought desperately not to. She didn't expect to have that kind of reaction when Bruce said what he said. That's why she replied as normally as she could. Actions can lie. Definitions are all. Her actions lie – almost all the time. Maybe for him actions are real, but to her – actions are only for the ill.

Bruce immediately regretted his words. He didn't understand why Rachel's words came out of his mouth. But it was an instant thing. He knew she thought differently – no. My actions as Batman are real. He had to believe that Batman somewhat defined him. But her reply was curious – it sounded completely normal to him, but underneath he felt an undercurrent of something.

He didn't know what.

Anne turned her head from Bruce and looked out the window to the bright lights of the sleepless Uptown. She could feel Bruce staring at her. But she wouldn't look back. Her mind had already flashed to their conversation the dance floor. She closed her eyes.

Bruce marveled at the ugliness and at the beauty. It was entirely Anne's own. She was the epitome of ugly perfection. Her young face with the twinge of hard earned age. The elegant, angular, wide set cheekbones. Her fair like skin that looked like it could tan effortlessly on the single ray of the sun. And her emerald eyes which he could not see, but he could see so easily with his Mind's Eye. Those green orbs of hers were bewildering and bewitching. Everything – all her features were rough, but she was beautiful. She was the ugly perfection of a woman.

The silence lasted until they finally arrived at the Riverview building. Anne unbuckled and opened the door. She turned to him; holing the side of the door, and said, "Thank you."

Bruce smiled. He took out a card, scooted to her side of the door, and then extended his arm; holding out that card. Take it please.

Anne looked at the card with half suspicion and half curiosity. Then she looked at Bruce. What? She gave him a questioning look. She didn't understand what the card was for. It looked a little daunting for her, and strange – not a part of her visual vocabulary.

"Take it. Whenever you need help…just call me and I'll be there to lend a hand." Bruce promised.

Anne wasn't sure what to think about the promise in Bruce's voice. She still was confused and still couldn't understand just where he was heading. But the sincerity in his eyes caught her off guard. She didn't know what else she could say.

"Calling card?" Anne asked; indicating to a different context despite herself.

"Interest." Bruce replied with much confidence.

Anne paused, but decided against asking another questions. Instead, she took another chance despite the confusion. She reached out, touched the card, and then took it.

Bruce nodded in relief. "Thank you."

Anne slightly faltered at his expression. "Your welcome. Good night." She turned, hugged herself, and walked away to her building.

Bruce watched her walk away and has the door opened for her. She finally disappeared after a minute. He rolled up the window, and sighed; looking at Alfred.

"Do you have something to say?" he asked; knowing that his trusted butler had thoughts concerning Anne.

Alfred smiled and drove on towards their destination. And appreciating the silence, Bruce leaned back and closed his eyes as he unconsciously put his seatbelt on.

And Anne was the only thing in his mind as he drifted into sleep.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Anne had nothing when she went back to her home. Her resolve was weakened. Her mind was confusingly blank. And her heart strangely empty. This was her choice – she wanted to leave all the baggage of what happened earlier in the night where it belonged: in the bin affectionately known as the garbage. She never had any particular use for confronting all her decisions nor had she any use of defending her actions. She liked to let things be, be able to move forward, and prevent what she could.

She was greeted by her loyal canine friend Shadow. He had joyful raced to her side and tenderly licked and nipped her legs. This only furthered her thought of dogs – animals being the great companion. She knew that at least with animals especially dogs one could never be judged. Dogs accept you are no matter what. Anne sometimes wished the people she loved were like that too.

Entering her room, Anne closed the shades of her sliding door. She patted Shadow on the head and walked into the walk-in closet. She quickly removed herself from the dress she was wearing as if taking off a great weight from her body. She then looked at herself in the mirror, and found herself doing something she hated to do.

She looked at herself in the mirror. She more than looked – she analyzed, and she judged. She looked at her rough features; her wide neck, and her somewhat angular face. She scrutinized her cheekbones, and her not so flat and not so pointy nose. She checked the size of her breasts knowing full well that they were 36B. She found her buttocks to be pretty big, but not big enough to cause questions on how much she ate. Her thighs were ok. She did have love handles. She had muscle – carefully hidden, but fully developed. She wondered if she was beautiful. Could she keep a man's eye on her? Was she even attractive to herself? She lastly looked into her own eyes. They were green – emerald green. That was the one feature of herself she liked. The important reason she liked her eyes was that her adoptive mother told her that her biological mother had green eyes.

She knew fully well that her body, her features, and maybe things in her mind came from her biological parents. She couldn't help but wonder what was what? Her emerald eyes were her mother's right? Her black hair – maybe it could be from her father? Maybe not. She didn't know. All she knew was that she was Romanian, Irish, and Welsh.

Shadow barked.

Anne's mind flashed to when Shadow first met Batman. It was two nights ago and Eddie wasn't home.

Shadow barked and growled; racing towards the door. His bark was ferocious and powerful.

Anne raced after him. Her eyes saw Batman crouched on the balcony looking at Shadow wearily. She gripped Shadow's collar and pulled him back after seeing him ready to attack.

"Down boy…it's okay…Down…" she whispered to the dog.

She kept her eyes on Batman and for some reason she saw some slight humor in his eyes as if he had been in this situation before.

Shadow growled, but eventually calmed down.

Anne pointed for him to leave, but Shadow refused. Instead, the German Shepard sat stubbornly near the sliding door and waited. She wouldn't force him to go inside. She knew better. Shadow was only trying to protect.

"He'll get used to you," she told Batman.

Batman didn't say anything. He remained couched, but his eyes weren't on Shadow anymore. They were on Anne.

She took that as an answer.

Shadow barked once again, but there was no growl to follow. He raced out of the closet.

Anne quickly put on her sweat pants and night shirt. She walked to the living room and found Eddie sitting on the couch – suit and boots – watching television with Shadow lying down on his feet.

"I've got to get you a key," she said with a shake of her head.

"Already have one, darling." Eddie said. He lifted his arm up; showing a little gold key in his hand, and waved it. "Spare key where you hid it."

Anne couldn't believe it. She would have thought he'd never find it. But then something struck her. She had locked the door after she got in. She had hid the key inside her home. How the hell did Eddie get in to get the spare key?

"I picked the lock. And no – padlocked or whatever they are called…I got through them." Eddie replied to the unspoken question.

Anne opened her mouth, but she had nothing left to say. She just shook her head again. Unbelievable! She had the urge to just slap Eddie on the head, but she didn't think she'd like the retaliation that he would surely give her. So she decided to join Eddie on the couch, and looked at the television that was playing Cops.

They spent the next few minutes watching the replay of Cops. ON the tube was a policeman stopping someone.

"He's got drugs." Eddie said.

"How do you know?" Anne asked.

"Look at the way he drove – not so smooth, but not so safely. And that car is a drugee's car."

"A Ford is a drugee's car?"

"1984."

"You got a point."

And Eddie's prediction turned to be true. The man that was pulled over happened to be a drugee's car. The man was now being arrested. The drug was cocaine.

"Had fun?" Anne asked.

But she got no answer. She looked to her side and found Eddie sleeping soundly. She smiled at this and then smiled wider when she noticed that Shadow too fell asleep. So, she carefully got off the couch and tiptoed towards her bedroom.

She went out into the balcony and found Batman crouched on the balcony wall waiting for her.

His eyes were especially dark this night, but that didn't bother her. A sudden wave of sleepiness came over her at his presence and she smiled.

"Goodnight…" she said.

Then she turned and closed the sliding door; pulled the drapes-like coverings of it. And slept soundly on her bed.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Batman knew that this was good. It was better for his chances for Anne to have limited time with Batman. But he would keep his promise. He would continue visiting her. But his main priority now was to make sure she knew the real him – not just the masks he wore.

"Good night Anne."

And he drifted off into the night.

TBC

End-note: I hope you enjoyed it. Now, I don't know when I'll update the next chapter because I have so many other stories to work on. But that doesn't mean that I'm not working on the next chapter. Please do review! Much appreciated it is if you do!