𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐍

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟕- 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒

SONG: Dumb by Nirvana

...

"Mr. Wayne, I'm pleasantly surprised." Mayor Reàl spoke as Clara and Bruce walked to greet her. "It's nice to see you two." she continued, shaking both their hands. "You too, mayor." Clara smiled politely.

Suddenly the band on stage began playing classical music, and the crowd made their way to the center of the room to dance. "Ah, I guess we can continue this conversation later... Oh, and Mr. Wayne, be sure to stick around. I have to thank you." Mayor Reàl smiled, taking a sip of champagne and walking away.

Bruce slowly turned to Clara, "Care to dance Ms. Creed?" he asked quietly, his eyes glimmering. "Of course, Mr. Wayne..." Clara smiled up at Bruce, then looked past him, "and it seems we have an audience." Bruce extended his hand, and led her to the dance floor.

They joined the couples dancing slowly, making small talk as the calming music echoed throughout the museum.

Bruce placed his strong hands on Clara's waist, and she hung her arms around his shoulders, moving with the music. They could feel uncomfortable stares gazing upon them, and were once again met with whispers of "Bruce Wayne." Bruce looked behind Clara to see Lieutenant Graves taking a large sip of champagne, his eyes locked on them.

"The last time I danced like this was in junior high." Clara chuckled quietly as Bruce looked back down to her. "I've never been a big fan of dances." he sighed. "Then why'd you ask me? We didn't have to." Clara stopped, frowning. He hung his head to rest his cheek beside her ear. "I wanted to. I'm sorry, I thought you would enjoy it. And besides, Graves looks fucking pissed." Bruce laughed through a whisper now, making Clara smile. She patted his shoulder, "Okay, stop it." she rolled her eyes through a laugh.

They continued to dance until the music ended, and it was now time for the mayor's speech.

"Thank you all for being here tonight. It is a pleasure to be able to support the rebuilding of our city after these tragic times. Things have been dark, and uncertain, but I look to the future with hope..." Reàl spoke into the microphone, as everyone sat at round tables, looking up at her and sipping champagne.

"And I would like to give a big thank you to Mr. Bruce Wayne, who actually showed up tonight," she chuckled, and the audience followed suit, looking around the room in search of the Bruce Wayne. "But really, it is because of Mr. Wayne's generosity that we have made such progress in rebuilding the city and restoring people's lives. Thank you, Mr. Wayne." she finished, starting to clap.

The room was full of cheers, Clara clapping happily as she looked at Bruce. Unsure of what to do, his pale cheeks flushed red as he gave a small wave.

Several more people spoke, followed by dinner.

Bruce and Clara dealt with many people coming up to the table to talk, well, just to Bruce. Clara quickly drank the rest of her champagne (and maybe a few more glasses) in the midst of at least a dozen women's flirtatious advances towards her boyfriend.

She had never really thought of him as a boyfriend since they were both grown adults, but that's what he was.

And come to think of it, she couldn't take anymore of these women.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Abernathy, but we would like to get back to dinner." Clara coughed, putting her glass down with a hint of aggression. "Thank you, have a great night." she smiled painfully, cutting the older woman who was leaning over Bruce off. Mrs. Abernathy began to stammer, but quickly backed away, embarrassed.

Bruce exhaled, "I'm ready to go whenever you are." his face looked handsomely tired. "Let's go before dessert." Clara looked around, scowling. She stood up, almost stumbling. "Too much champagne?" Bruce whispered, looking amused.

So the two got up to leave, avoiding several more boring conversations.

"Thank fuck that's over with." Clara scoffed, putting a hand to her forehead as they stood outside the museum steps waiting for the valet. "See why I never come out in public?" Bruce chuckled, rolling his eyes. Observing his tipsy date, he took off his blazer and wrapped it around her shoulders.

She gazed up at him, the city lights reflecting off of her eyes. "The city's cold at night." he spoke, tugging the blazer closed around her chest.

"Are you my boyfriend?" Clara asked abruptly, pouting slightly. Bruce's expressionless face slid to a surprised smile as he turned his head, "Well... yeah." "Are you laughing?" she asked, digging. "No." Bruce sighed, brushing through his hair and turning back towards her, still grinning. "But you are." she hit his arm, scowling.

The valet finally pulled the old car along the sidewalk.

"Okay, well I'm laughing at myself." he exhaled, placing a soft hand on her elbow. "Why?" Clara asked, amused. "Because-" Bruce began, but was cut off by the glaring echo of police sirens.

"We should go." his face changed, as he quickly opened the car door for Clara and led her by her waist. Saying nothing, Clara got into the car and waited for Bruce to close the door as the valet exited from the driver's side.

As the noise of the sirens was met by blue lights reflecting off the museum glass, Bruce hurried to start the car and pull off.

"I'm sorry." he placed a worried hand on Clara's leg as he leaned forward, turning them around to go home.

Clara gazed out the window sadly as they drove- thinking about how fearful living in Gotham made her, but knowing she couldn't return to what she left behind.