I Bet On Losing Dogs

Everything's So Serious

Bruce's primary vehicle is already in the driveway when he leads you out. Alfred, Dory, and Lucy are on your heels. "Bruce! (Y/N)! One picture!" He grimaces, turning to face them. "I don't think it's necessary," He says, checking his watch. "We will be late if we don't leave now." Alfred scoffs, "You'll be the first ones there if you leave now."

"Nothing wrong with that," Bruce replies quickly. You giggle, "What's one picture?" Your hand rests on his cheek. He relaxes, rolling his eyes. "Fine. One picture." His arm wraps around your waist. You feel secure within his grasp. He looks down at you, reclining his neck, his face inches from yours. Alfred clears his throat as you try to hide your flustered face. When he watches the footage later, you wonder if he'll focus on himself in your eyes. He snaps his head from your gaze, facing the three cameras. He looks so serious, his brows knit, lips in a straight line. Dory holds her phone a bit from her, her glasses low on her nose. Lucy is the opposite, peering at her phone as if she couldn't see. Alfred stands tall, holding a DSLR, looking through the peephole.

You smile wide, whispering through your teeth, "They're making sure they get all the angles aren't they?" The corners of his lips turn upwards as he gives a closed-mouth smile at the camera at your joke. You know they snap a few dozen by the taps and clicks of the various cameras.

"Are we done?" Bruce asks, his frown returning. "Yes, we can be done now," Lucy says, stepping forward to pluck some dust off your topper. "You look absolutely gorgeous, darling. Have fun, dears," She pauses, meeting Bruce's stare. "That's an order, Mr. Wayne." He sighs, nodding. "Yes, yes. Okay. We gotta go." He grabs your hand, leading you to his car and opening your door. Anxiety fills your veins. You decide to remember the giddiness that kept you going the first time you got into this car. Maybe you're sober from experience. But, instead, you flash a smile and wave to them as Bruce pulls out.

You notice the ruby cufflinks on his wrist and smile. "They match." He glances at them and shrugs. "My father had a collection, unsurprisingly." You hope he'll say more, but he focuses on the road. "Are you nervous?" You ask, running your fingertips on the armrest. He inhales sharply. "No. I have ideas about how tonight will go, but I am alert. We just have to be aware of our surroundings." You nod, listening. "Okay. I can do that." He glances over, his hand on your knee.

"Don't worry. The most we'll need to worry about is if The Ocelot decided to put in a seating chart." He chuckles, bringing his attention back to the road. You clench your jaw as his hand continues up your thigh. "Why are you worried about a seating chart?" You ask suddenly, hiding a shiver. He thinks for a moment, his speed increasing. "We'll be limited by whoever we sit by. I'm sure Gordon and the police department did a good job of weeding out those who were under Falcone's payroll. I looked into it too, but I'm sure there will be stragglers." He scoffs, his nostrils flaring. "I don't trust cops. I am only going for Gordon, a good friend of Batman's."

"What will you do in case Batman is needed?"

"My uniform is in the trunk, so once you are all safe, I can simply change and take care of whatever happens. What's with all the questions?" He asks, slowing as the traffic picks up. "I'm curious. This is the first outing where I know what's going on, not going in blind." You rest your hand on his hand on your thigh while he squeezes you. "Will you be this handsy when we're around so many people?" He laughs, shaking his head. "I will try my best to keep my hands to myself if it makes you uncomfortable." It doesn't, but you can't imagine his hand so close to your warmth while you have a respectable dinner with the newly minted Commissioner Gordon. "We'll have to see then, Mr. Wayne." He keeps his smirk, liking the challenge.

The Ocelot is deep within Gotham in the financial district, of course. They have the road blocked for the party, with the valet and guards guiding the traffic. People protest across the street with signs pleading for changes and the mayor's resignation. You feel slightly bad for Mayor Reál. She's dealt a tough hand with Gotham in its current state.