The Gotham Art Gallery was buzzing, not 15 minutes earlier none other than Bruce Wayne, Gotham's closest shot at royalty and his latest piece of arm candy, a gymnast with Cirque de Soleil, had entered into the foyer. In an attempt, one could only assume, to soak up some culture or they had taken a wrong turn on the way to Wayne Tower.

"Will you buy that for me Bruce? It doesn't have a price tag on it though… " Wayne looked down at the blonde, doe eyed girl hanging off his arm and inwardly sighed, the girl pouted slightly and turned towards her companion, "I'll be back in a minute Brucie, I need to find the restroom!"

With that the blonde detached herself from Bruce's arm and sauntered towards the other rooms, shooting a look over her shoulder, her eyes narrowed, Bruce had failed to see her. The reason for Bruce's distraction was the young woman standing to the left of him. Wayne subtly observed the woman only a few feet away, admiring the painting next to the one his date had been ogling only moments before. Bruce's eyes travelled up the woman's body, she was dressed elegantly, her feet laced into patent leather heels, her legs encased in tights, an understated yet classic skirt ending just above the knee, she was wrapped up against the cold in a short red overcoat with a high collar, his eyes finally came to rest on the hat perched jauntily on her loosely curled and pinned up hair.

"You know, I'm pretty sure that's not for sale…" head cocked to one side, the woman's eyes flicked towards Bruce

"Everyone and everything has their price, Miss… ?"

"Even if it were for sale, I'm not sure you could afford it." she replied, a slight raise in the side of her lip suggesting a smirk.

"Not a native to Gotham are we?" Bruce looked at the woman and returned her smile.

"What makes you say that," her eyebrow rose in question, quizzical.

Bruce laughed, "Well…"

"He's Bruce Wayne, didn't you know?" the blonde had returned with a look of utter contempt etched across her face.

"Um ok…."

The blonde laughed contemptuously, "The Bruce Wayne? Oh come on you must have heard of him?"

"I don't watch much TV?" the blonde pursed her lips and was on the verge of attempting to make a scathing retort when a voice shot out across the room. Bruce up till now had been observing the altercation with mild amusement glanced over at the latest member to the party and once again inwardly sighed.

"Vanessa, darling!"

Vanessa turned around and smiled widely, "Marguerite, you found me then?"

"I knew you'd be taking in some art, now who do we have here? Bruce its wonderful to see you," Marguerite moved towards the billionaire, pulled Bruce to her bosom in a tight embrace, surrounding him in a cloud of Chanel No. 5.

"Madge, Gotham has been missing you,"

"Oh I know darling, I missed our dark city's society too. New York and the Upper East Side just doesn't compare. Now, who's your charming companion?" she smiled through her teeth, attempting to mask whatever disdain she held for the blonde currently vying for attention.

"This Marguerite, is Marty Lewis," he placed his hand in the small of her back and pushed her forward slightly.

"The gymnast …" Marty interjected

Vanessa snorted.

"What was that dear?" Marguerite turned towards her, smiling expectantly

Vanessa swallowed, "Oh, nothing …" Bruce grinned at her, she merely glared a sudden urge to kick him welled up, she quickly suppressed her thoughts and plastered an inane smile on her face, a smile so large Vanessa had the sneaking suspicion she looked deranged, that suspicion was confirmed only minutes later by the look Marguerite shot her.

Marguerite Montague was loud and brassy. She had married young and well, working her way up society's treacherous ladder ever since. Every husband a rung above the last, after husband number five she had finally emerged as the matriarch of society, surrounded season by season with young debutantes who had dreams of nabbing themselves a Gotham trust baby. Every year Marguerite, or Madge to her friends, (if you could call sycophantic, bank stabbing, simpering flunkies friends) took on a pet project, this year her eye had fallen upon Vanessa Taylor. An assistant buyer in a New York art gallery, Madge had seen potential, setting up Vanessa in her very own gallery, in such a round about way that Vanessa had no idea she owed her newfound position to the vivacious woman beside her.

"Oh I have been rude," Marguerite pulled the focus of the conversation once more back to her, "this is Vanessa Taylor, she's traded the mean streets of New York for our even meaner ones."

"What brought you to Gotham Ms Taylor?'" Bruce turned toward Vanessa laying on the charm as his eyes captured hers.

Vanessa was momentarily pulled into the stormy blue gaze of the Gothamite but she dragged her eyes away determined not to turn into the pile of mush she presumed every other woman did at the sight of Wayne's chiselled looks and Armani suits.

"Work," she replied curtly, knowing she sounded rude.

"Work?"

"Yes, you know where you go to an office or whatever, work nine till five and get a pay cheque at the end of the month? But I'm guessing as you're here now, not pushing paper in one of the many skyscrapers lining the city and by the look of the suit, the concept might be slightly," she paused, holding her breath, "foreign." She clapped her hand to her mouth, turning around and bending over slightly just as ruby red hue crept onto her cheeks.

"You certainly sound like you did very well for yourself in New York, you have the bullish behaviour perfected…" Bruce paused, Vanessa's blush deepened, Madge gasped and a flicker of vindication crossed Marty's previously bored face. "I sense you're not even native to America are you Ms Taylor?"

"No I'm not, how observant of you Mr Wayne, well I think I should be going," she turned to Madge "I think tomorrow will be a good time for me to view the space I was telling you about, would you like to see it with me?"

Madge who had momentarily fallen into a shocked silence sucked in her breath quickly and composed her features, "of course dear, will 10 o'clock be good?"

"Sure, I'll see you tomorrow." With a nod to Wayne and his date Vanessa strode out of the gallery with an extra swing in her hips.

A few weeks after the meeting in the art gallery Bruce Wayne and Marty had very publicly broken up, the red carpet premier of Tom Hank's latest offering having proved to be the chosen stage, the press circulating rumours of playboy Wayne having a rushed fondle with a Hollywood 'It girl' in the ladies bathroom. Vanessa had gone ahead with her new job unaffected by the media circus that surrounded Wayne and anyone associated to him by virtue of giving various excuse after excuse to Madge whenever she attempted to invite her to some sort of society gala or fundraising event. Vanessa used to the harsh tongues that waged in New York had absolutely no desire to mix with the blue blooded crowd, but it appeared that she could no longer avoid the rich and affluent of Gotham, she needed them to buy her paintings. So this is why on a dark and overcast morning Vanessa found herself walking towards Wayne Tower, a meeting had been set up for her by Madge to meet with Mr Fox in attempt for her to sell off tickets to Wayne Industries for the opening of her gallery.

Vanessa was running (well more like limping) along the pavement with a Gotham Gazette in one hand for shelter, and clutching the heel of her shoe in the other. She was muttering darkly to herself, drawing from the deepest wells of her vocabulary she let loose a stream of curses.

"Right that's it, no more bloody rain, no more bloody shoes that give me sodding blisters only to have the bloody heel snap off…"

She pushed open the heavy door to what she only hoped to be Wayne Tower only to have the doorman pull from the other side, loosing her balance she tottered into the cold marble foyer crashing into someone, that someone she presumed, was the doorman.

"Oh piss it!" she exclaimed, her handbag having become un-slung and handily emptying its contents all over the floor. She immediately dived down to pick up the various items that had scattered across the lobby.

"Are you alright Miss?"

"Fine," came the woman's muffled reply as she crawled around on her hands and knees not caring that she was currently giving anyone who cared to look a lovely view of her backside. Several worker bees and the secretary behind the desk all had stopped and were viewing the scene unfolding in front of them with the same mixture of amazement and morbid fascination when one views a freak show. As it would not appear to be Vanessa's day another person had joined the crowd that was ogling at the sight of a dishevelled yet highly attractive woman sprawled out across the floor. Vanessa was just about to grab at her tube of lipstick, but due to the copious amount of water she had brought in with her, coupled with the highly polished marble it rolled out of her grasp, and kept on rolling only to stop, resting slightly against a black leather shoe.

"Bugger…" the woman picked her self up off the floor, the paper and her kitten heel lay forgotten as she scrambled towards the run away cosmetic.

Just as she was about to reach it, a hand, presumably belonging to the wearer of the black shoe, lightly snatched up the lipstick whilst simultaneously offering the wet and flustered woman his other hand. She quickly grabbed at his proffered hand and he carefully helped her up.

"Thank you…" she muttered, as she tried to blow the hair that had come loose off her face, "Sorry about the scrambling, not very attractive."

"Don't mention it."

Vanessa looked up quickly, and sharply took in breath as she found her self in the presence of one of Gotham's highest sought after bachelors. Bruce's blue eyes where glinting with humour as he took in the girl, no, woman, that stood before him. Her green eyes were looking anywhere but at his face in attempt to avoid eye contact he supposed, she blushed prettily. She suddenly snatched back her hand and began to back away from him, she was saying something, not quite loud enough for him to hear fully yet he managed to catch a few words, "Idiot… don't know what I'm doing… going to be late... bloody attractive too… stoppit..."

The woman looked up again and smiled hesitantly "err... Thanks for the help Mr Wayne." With that she bent down once more, picked up her heel and the newspaper, nodded to the doorman and limped with the greatest amount of aplomb towards the secretary who's mouth was wide open.

Vanessa coughed, "Hello, my name is Vanessa Taylor, I have a meeting with Mr Fox"

Bruce shook his head as Vanessa was escorted towards the elevator and the upper levels of the building. He looked towards the doorman and saw several business cards clutched in his hand; each one read Ms. Vanessa Taylor, Buyer and gave an address for a private office and gallery, along with a number. Bruce smiled and pocketed them, winking at the secretary as he walked past her, following Vanessa's path to the elevators.

Meanwhile Vanessa's meeting with Lucius Fox was going to plan, she had managed to sell off 10 pairs of tickets to be distributed amongst the employees of Wanye Enterprises.

"So Miss Taylor if you could leave us some contact information, I'll have my secretary sort out the details if that's ok with you?"

"Yes, let me just find my card…" Vanessa began rummaging through her bag in attempt to find a business card, she had almost reached the stage of emptying the entire contents of her bag out on to the coffee table in front of her when someone breezed through the door, Vanessa groaned when she noticed who it was. It had appeared Wayne was attempting to crash the meeting.

"I'm really sorry Mr Fox, I have appeared to have misplaced my business cards, do you have a pen?"

"erm, yes I do…" Fox reached into his pocket just as Bruce pulled out one of the many business cards he had snatched up downstairs.

"I think its one of these that you're looking for isn't it Ms Taylor?" Bruce smirked as he noticed Vanessa's highly irate glare that had fallen across her features.

"How did you get that?" she asked most accusingly, causing Lucius to raise an eyebrow, his lips pursed in silent amusement.

"Don't worry, I didn't steal it. You dropped them downstairs, remember?"

"Right yes well, if you wouldn't mind I would like them back please." With that Vanessa forced a smile and looked expectantly at Wayne. He grinned at her and passed them over.

"Ill see you later Lucius," he nodded to the CEO and turned towards Vanessa, "Good bye Ms Taylor, I hope to be seeing a lot more of you," his eyes traced the line of her body appreciatively and unconsciously Vanessa crossed her legs and put a protective arm across her body. With that Bruce turned on his heel and left the office.

"So Ms Taylor, now that we have your details I think we can finish up here, unless you have any questions for me?"

"No I think we've covered everything Mr Fox. I hope to see you at the opening." Vanessa extended her hand which was taken into a firm handshake.

"Are you ok to get home Ms Taylor?" he paused and sighed slightly, "as your shoe appears to be broken I think we can manage to provide a company car for you?"

Vanessa blushed several shades of red, "No, no its fine, I'll just hail a cab. Thanks again Mr Fox."

A quick cab ride later and Vanessa walked into her office after taking her messages from the office's secretary, slowly pulled off her shoes and jacket and sunk into her chair. Today was not the best of days, having rushed from office to gallery, then back to office by way of the Wayne Tower, Vanessa Taylor was tired and wanted nothing more than to go home, put her most oldest, most comfortable clothes on and order Chinese. But as fate would have it she was due for a consultancy with a private collector in about five minutes. She slowly pulled open the bottom drawer of her desk thrust in the pair of Jimmy Choos that had decided to give up and die and shoved on a standby pair. She smoothed out her hair, turned on her computer and pulled out a marked file. Vanessa then proceeded to get up and walk towards the door just as Elaine the secretary walked in with her latest client.

"Mr Johnson, how are you?" she said in her brightest voice.

Wayne tower stood high amongst the many skyscrapers that littered the Gotham skyline, Bruce Wayne's office lay, as one would expect, on the top floor with arguably the best views of the city. The last of the Wayne's happened to be standing by the ceiling high windows, consumed in thought, the magnificent panorama was lost on him. Even now, four months since Rachel's death, whenever Bruce was left to his own devices, when he wasn't pursing the criminal underbelly of the city and when it wasn't required of him to enter the playboy persona the public both hated and adored he often found himself tormented by his inner most feelings, an overwhelming sense of failure. He had failed Rachel, he had failed Harvey and he had failed to rid Gotham of the crime that had so often near consumed it. Alfred had time and time again pulled Bruce out of his dark moods, insisting that he go out and attempt to lead a life. Any life in Alfred's eye, even if it did consist of dating one model after the next, often two at a time, was better than a life of caves, bats and bruises. There was a sharp knock at the door and Wayne was pulled violently back to his senses, "Bruce, you got a minute?"

"Yeah, sure thing Lucius. Come on in,"

"I just received the shipment in that you we were talking about earlier. So we should be able to make the modifications to the suit if it all goes to plan, having said that I am a bit worried about the durability."

"Nothing some testing can't straighten out right? Besides, I don't think I'll be running into any dogs or cats for that matter anytime soon."

"If you say so Mr Wayne, I think we should be ready for tests at the end of the week, reckon you can fit it in between your Russian horse back rider and trapeze artist?"

Bruce laughed, "You heard about that did you?"

"I think everyone heard about it Bruce…"

"Yeah I forget how fast Vicki Vale latches onto a story. Oh Lucius, set aside one of those gallery tickets for me will you? I think Wayne Manor Mark Two is in need of some fine art."

"No problem, I think the wife and I will be joining you, if Loretta has anything to do with it."

Across town and Vanessa had just managed to wrap up with Mr Thompson and was just about to go in search of some food when her office door flew open.

"Who's your daddy?'

"Sorry, what?" Vanessa sighed, Alicia her best friend in Gotham, was a bit of a free spirit. Alicia and Vanessa had first met when Alicia was attempting to pursue her acting career in New York city, musical theatre and Broadway being her ultimate goal, however, listening to her father she decided to take a job opportunity that opened up for her in Gotham. Unbeknown to her, her father had gained her new position by pulling a few strings in the family, his younger brother Alec owned a small but respectable Greek restaurant and Alicia soon found herself in the unglamourous position of hostess. When Vanessa had informed her of her impending move Alicia had jumped at the opportunity to set her friend up in a modest apartment and had been a constant fixture of Vanessa's life ever since.

"Oh you're no fun Vee. But anyway you are going to love me!"

"Oh, I'm going to love you am I? What pray tell have you done Alicia for me to bestow upon you such an honour?"

"I have just sold 5 pairs of tickets to your gallery opening!" Alicia gave a little squeal and fell into the chair on the other side of Vanessa overcrowded desk.

"How did you manage that?"

"Hey, I resent the implications your tone made!"

"Sorry, sorry didn't mean to offend," Vanessa gave a mock bow, "So who did you sell them to?"

"Remember that guy I've been seeing, Tony?" Alicia smiled fondly, Vanessa nodded her head encouragingly, "Oh right, yeah. Tony, well his boss was interested in some art or something."

"Or something?" Vanessa raised an eyebrow

"Well he wasn't too clear on the details. But! I do have the money." Alicia pulled out a brown envelope from her maxi handbag, placed it on the desk and slowly pushed the brown envelope over, Vanessa looked at it surreptitiously, opening it gingerly she gasped.

"Cash Alicia? You walked around Gotham with this much money? And who pays in cash anyway?"

"Oh I don't know! It was probably easier for him, besides at least you don't have to wait for the cheque to clear."

"Right, but I now have to take this to Gotham Bank and hopefully don't get attacked on the way there."

"You'll be fine, I walked through the narrows with that…"

"Alicia! The narrows? Are you kidding me, you cant have thought that was ok?"

"I got here fine didn't I? If you're so worried I'll go to the bank with you, ok?" Alicia retorted quickly. Vanessa closed her eyes and waited for deliverance, it wasn't coming. "Ok, I'll just tell Elaine we're nipping to the bank," Vanessa paused, and Alicia quickly interjected, "You know you're the boss right? You could just take the rest of the afternoon off, and we can go shopping for dresses and get mani-pedis?"

Vanessa smiled, "sold."

A few hours later, Vanessa returned home, laden with bags she dumped them on the sofa, kicked off her shoes and began rummaging through her purchases to locate one paper bag with smells of the Orient guiding her. She triumphantly produced several cartons full of chicken, rice and most importantly spring rolls. Not bothering with plates, Vanessa broke apart the wooden chopsticks provided, sank into the sofa, hit the remote to be rewarded by the television flickering to life and began to eat. Bruce returned home several hours later, wearily pulling himself out of the batmobile, virtually ripping at his armour in attempt to get it off, his head and torso free of the suit he collapsed next to what served as a surgical table, sobs wracking his body. A short while later two liver spotted hands rested on his shoulders and Bruce opened his eyes to see his trusted butler Alfred, "Come one Master Bruce, I think it's time for bed don't you?" It was the breakdown Alfred had been waiting for and just as if Bruce had reverted to the eight-year-old boy who had just witnessed his parents gunned down in front of him, he nodded mutely and duly followed Alfred to the light and warmth of the manor above.