a cure i know, the batman fanfiction.

birdie jones

She rehearsed her pitch in her head as she checked herself in the mirror. It was good, impeccable even. A bit better than the last one she had given and that one was the one giving her the career she was enjoying by then. Bruce Wayne was going to be impressed.

Then, she adjusted the hem of her skirt, her slim silhouette favoring the size of it. Sometimes she was insecure about her lack of curves but, wearing an eight inch mini skirt that barely reached a quarter of her thigh, she at least knew that it wouldn't look inappropriate. Heck, she could have even worn a shorter one. 

Birdie retouched her make-up, that chocolate scented bronzer making her smile; she was already hired and if she had to face being fired on her very first day, which wouldn't be the case, at least she could smell good while it happened. And look good, obviously.

She checked the watch on her wrist, still in time. She stretched her stockings, buckled her mary janes and fidgeted with the first two buttons of her blouse. She'd never had an issue with showing too much cleavage before. There wasn't much to show, really. But knowing that she was now working for a man, one man... Well, she didn't want to give the wrong impression. She decided to leave both of them unbuttoned, but wear the two pearl necklaces she had in mind.

Finally, she retouched her dark brown lipstick and she was good to go. Birdie Jones looked adorable, stunning, incredible and nothing was going to get on her way.

Except, well, Gotham. 

Once she got out of her newly rent apartment, her vespa was nowhere to be found. She frowned, remembering exactly where she had parked it, but no. She resigned herself to take a cab and worry about later. It had been rather empty when she had parked it last night, and since it was visibly crowded by then, it could just be that she wasn't looking well enough.

During the drive to Wayne Tower, she couldn't help but anxiously check her watch. She was used to arriving everywhere ten to thirty minutes earlier, but she was on the clock. By the time they arrived she practically jumped out of the vehicle yelling as many 'Thank you's as she could. She had only five minutes left.

Wayne Enterprises was breathtaking, just like the first time she had gotten there. Her heart pounded in her chest and, as she reached for the elevator, she had to catch her breath. Her reflection was still flawless, at least, just a few minor strands of coily hair that fell out of her french twist, framing her face in a way that she didn't have the time to fix.

4 minutes left and she was checking in. 3 minutes and she was sweetly greeting the butler, Alfred Pennyworth, as he guided her to Mr. Wayne's office. 2 minutes and she was right in front of the door, taking a breath and remembering what she was supposed to say.

Then, the doors slid open and revealed one of the most beautiful rooms in the whole building. Arched ceilings, dark wood with carved patterns and floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a look of the whole city. She was so struck with the beauty of it that she had forgotten who she was about to meet.

Bruce Wayne sat behind a big, ebony desk, he was a study in contrasts himself. She knew he was young, but seeing him face to face reminded her of a timid lonesome college student that was forced to wear a fancy suit for family dinner. There was a raw intensity in his eyes however, and once they catched her frame, they sat on her pearl necklaces a second too long.

"Mr. Wayne," she pronounced, the name still feeling surreal as she took a few modest steps closer, "it's a pleasure to meet you. I've been looking forward to this opportunity."

He nodded, slowly. Birdie felt the air leave her lungs. From all the times she practiced this conversation in her mind, she never thought his response would be silent, so she licked her lips, clapped her hands and gave him the most charming smile she could manage.

"As you may know, my name is Birdie Jones and I'm your new PR manager," she began, letting her mind and mouth run freely as she paced determined in front of him, "My focus is on crafting captivating stories around individuals. I've sharpened my skills in building and maintaining strong personal brands and I'm confident in my ability to elevate your public image to new heights."

She realized then that she wouldn't get much out of him, but she could hear a low, faint rumble coming from his direction and that was enough for her to continue.

"Your public image is more than just a facade; it's a narrative. It's a story the world reads, a character they follow. But like any compelling story, it needs a skilled storyteller to shape it, to make it resonate." she explained, "I believe I am that storyteller. I can transform your public image from a mere perception into a captivating character arc, a story that not only engages but inspires and that will help people perceive you as a person."

As she spoke, she saw herself click her heels along the impeccable floors, to guide her steps next to the screen. She had already showed her presentation to the Wayne executives that hired her, so she didn't really feel the same anxiety as she linked her phone to broadcast from it.

"And when the public is captivated by the character of Bruce Wayne, the philanthropist, the visionary, the Gotham prince, it inevitably translates to a positive perception of Wayne Enterprises" she continued, realizing that despite the lack of words, his eyes never left hers. "Your company becomes more than just a corporation; it becomes an extension of your character, a symbol of progress, innovation, and hope. It's a powerful synergy that can elevate both your personal brand and the company's reputation to unprecedented heights. It could even make Gotham a new city, a safer one."

Birdie gave a entrancing pitch that was surprising even her, she dominated the information she had gathered, both about Wayne Enterprises and Bruce Wayne. She explained passionately about their plausible target audience, the future interviews, speeches, social media content. She went thoroughly on his present public image, both it's strengths and weaknesses, and both her short-term and long-term planning seemed achievable.

She could almost catch the ghost of a smile on his face once she finished. 

Truth was, he was both fascinated and terrified of her contagious energy. It was a growing unease that he didn't understand how to deal with. Her voice was well portrayed, the perfect volume. She never stuttered, or stumbled, or corrected herself. She was relentless and he had gotten so used to the silence that it was a jarring assault on his senses.

"You're... You're confident" he said, voice small as he was finally taking his eyes off her.

It was her turn to give a lack of response, puzzled. He was far too aware of the silence then and hoped he had said what he was meant to say. The clock clicked behind him, the city hummed, and she looked at him intently.

"Thank you" she said finally, an astounding smile appearing on her face. "Do you have any questions?"

He quickly but vaguely shook his head.

"Perfect," Birdie stated sweetly, pressing her hands together, ""I'll send over a detailed proposal with timelines and strategies. Thank you for your time, Mr. Wayne."

And she turned on her heels to leave, smiling at Alfred's way as she went back home.