Post by Deleted on Aug 20, 2013 9:53:16 GMT -5
While the Cat's Away
Story By: Mouse, Catwoman, and Batman
Heroes: Batman
Villains: Catwoman, Mouse
Plot: The origin story about Catwoman and Mouse continues and the stakes are changed when a Wayne Enterprise employee begins obsessing over Bruce Wayne, Catwoman returns and one can't help wonder if she means to wage war in order to keep her 'territory.'
Mouse: She stared at the invitation.
No one ever came, the days had turned into weeks, the food had run out and she had stepped blinking into the light. The weeks had turned into months and a life had begun again. The months had turned into years and she had pushed all those thoughts from her mind, become a new thing, kein mitleid, they had called her Mouse.
Earle was gone, and she was forgotten, no one remembered her, she slipped through the cracks, but the money still came. The little Mouse, too small to catch their eye, falling between the cracks of a growing empire.
More than two years and now they remembered her? Earle was gone, and there was never a word, never a knock at the door, no questions had been asked. But now an invitation. Had her name simply appeared on a list of staff? Why would she be remembered now?
Maybe it just came from the payroll. The invitation was simple, printed in an elegant script on expensive paper. What else would one expect from Wayne?
It meant nothing.
She had not returned to Wayne Tower since it had all happened. She had no intention of returning now, Pamela Sweigeld was gone, she was ‘Mouse’ now, living quietly and invisibly, slipping in through holes in the firewalls of the rich and bloated to steal, to be comfortable, to be safe. If she never saw Wayne Enterprises again, it would still be too soon, her nose wrinkled, the invitation flipped and fluttered into the ‘round file’. She should draft a resignation letter.
Nights of unrest, memories, regrets, emptiness, a tall dark man in the corridors of the tower and in the pages of the newspapers. Thoughts and emotions jumbled together. Wayne Tower was no place for her. She would be a fool to go back there. No good could come of it.
The letter was never written, the invitation retrieved, she never did know why, especially not as she laid the expensive dresses on the bed. The Mouse stole what she needed, what she needed to pay for what she wanted. And if what she wanted happened to be a $3000 dress or four they would hang just as well from her shoulders as they would off some chairman’s mistress. The ankle length, too formal, the pink, didn’t seem right, the grey, the patterned silver with the lace seemed right for such a night with silver grey wedges, tall enough to not vanish amongst the throng, but closed toed not to be stepped on, she was sure there would be shoving.
She still couldn’t quite rationalize why she was there as she stood on the edge of the plaza. It was different now, they called it a Peace Garden, great fountains in the shape of goblets pouring water into channels that ran to the center of the plaza in trickling streams and there met the jet fountains dancing their intricate patterns in the air. Some of the revelers there already, laughing, pushing each other into the jets, heels clicking and glasses ringing amongst the screams and giggles. Great spotlights swung in lazy arcs as the fall dusk darkened into night, picking out the arms, the framework of the new monorail, more layers now and junctions, the destruction had paved the way for a more complete system, for a more ‘unified city’. She found herself scoffing quietly to herself, the people would tear the city apart far faster than steel would unite it. The lights caught the rail itself, gleaming, shining, though most of the system had been back in use for weeks already. Doubtless there would be fireworks too, it hurt… it hurt to be here again, however much she tried to forget.
Where were the cocktails? She needed something to get her through this… it had been a mistake. The Plaza was full already and she began to feel stifled, some familiar faces , too many people, familiar and unfamiliar, she felt her throat beginning to constrict, but still Wayne Enterprises employees were arriving, many by the transit itself, carried down in the fanciest clothes they could muster in the glass elevators on the side of the transit towers, pouring out into the Plaza, smiling and laughing.
Pamela began to work her way around the edge of the crowd, buffeted by the occasional shove, she found herself wanting to slide a knife into them , or to be miles away and hearing the pop of a pipe bomb. So many voices, so many mouths, shouting and laughing all above her head. She ground her heel down on exposed toes, what stupid cow wore sandals in a crowd like this? The refreshments tables were either side of the podium, no doubt where Wayne would rain his beneficence upon the common people, she tried to fight her way towards them, if it was this bad on the edges, what must it be like in the masses?
She should have stayed at home, the thought occurred to her again and again, and try as she might she couldn’t understand why she hadn’t, or why she was fighting to get to the front of a queue for vol au vents, canapés and a Cosmo. ‘I don’t want to be here.’
“Why am I here?” -e-
Bruce Wayne: “Why do you think the Batman is here?” Was the question from Vicki Vale to her guest on the T.V program. The voice of an elder man chimed in. “She’s quite lovely, Master Bruce, and on a bonus note, she’s not a thief.” Bruce’s hands pulled the suit jacket over his shoulders and adjusted its fit by tugging on each side of his lapel and inner jacket lining. Bruce was examining himself in the mirror while doing so. “You know, I don’t think women are a solution to my problems, Alfred.” Alfred took a moment and then shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose a young acrobatic orphan is? You know what they say-…” Alfred was cut off by Vicki Vale’s voice. “Ted, what kind of father puts their child in that kind of danger?” “Maybe the boy isn’t his father, maybe the man is a pedophile, Vicki. The main point is that this
Bat-Man’s moral compass is questionable. Where most children would be playing football, he takes this child to get shot at and clubbed by Gotham’s most dangerous creeps. <c> ^Bruce Wayne: Prancing around with femme fatale clad in latex.” Bruce turned to look at Alfred. “Really?” Alfred remained silent as Bruce turned to walk towards the door. “I’m fine with what I’m doing. There’s no one that can replace Rachel, Alfred…I thought it was Selina, but…I was wrong. Just drop it, please…For Rachel’s sake.” Bruce said with a bit of rebellious sarcasm in his tone. “Look after Dick, and make sure he does his homework.” Alfred smiled. “Will do, sir.” Bruce rode to the gathering and upon arrival he handed his car off to a valet. He smiled seeing the masses of people as some came to shake Bruce’s hand.
“Hey Mister Wayne.” “Mister Wayne, good to see you.” “Oh, Mister Wayne you made it.” were the common things people spoke to him. He watched as the outer crowd was busy and difficult to make way towards the center so he slowly walked with the group when he saw a big opening he squeezed his way through when it turned out there was a small woman he didn’t see. <c>
Bruce Wayne: He was bumped from behind and stumbled into her but, before his legs would step on her she might’ve seen his fast reflexes as he spread his legs to either side of her and grabbed hold of a object to prevent him from falling on her. He smiled at Pamela and some breath left his mouth allowing her to pick up a minty scent. “Hey…sorry, almost bumped into you.” He stood up right and adjusted his legs. “I didn’t see you here until it was almost too late.” Bruce felt the space between her and him close enough though they were now standing still, almost an awkward feeling until Bruce cleared his throat and said. “In the center there is dancing…perhaps you would give me the honor to dance with you?” He thought it was a nice recover line as he held his hand out to Pamela to hold and then lead her to follow him. <c>
Bruce Wayne: She would have front row vision of his blue dress shirt with a navy blue dress tie with dark patterned diamond shapes on it; it was a subtle tie but, matched none the less. His black pants matched his belt and jacket along with his polished dress shoes. His hair was conservatively groomed to the side and short cut with a bit more hair on the top.[/font]
Mouse: The cosmo was adequate, a little sweet perhaps, she wondered what they had put in… it should be sharper, she wrinkled er nose at the taste and nibbled at the food. It was passible, the plates, paper, ‘Classy, sure you can afford that MR Wayne’ she nibbled, delicately, and with no great appetite, frowning as she was jostled again and again, trying to find some space to exist, trying to squeeze between the oafs… into a gap, maybe enough to get her away from the heat pourig off them, she felt as if she could hear the blood rushing through her head already, always a mistake, always, always better to hide. She stepped towards the gap. –c-
Suddenly another, a dark shape towering over her curling over to obscure the sky, a jolt, surprise, she should have known better and then cosmo was on her, jolted out of her glass as she started at his appearance, as he leaned over her seemingly about to topple on top of her. She felt the cold dampness on her and tried to step away , to increase the gap between them. ‘Too close! Too close! In my personal space!’, her chest began to tighten, more so when she bumped into another as she tried to back away. ‘No Space…Idiot! Go Away!’ she thought, ‘How could he not have seen me?’ She wanted to … she didn’t know what she wanted to do, to hurt to retaliate, but she had nothing, and yet, something in the voice, calming, familiar. She looked up and up. A face silhouetted against the bright lights around the Peace Garden, she had seen this face before, in the magazines on TV, a crooked smile tugged at the corner of her mouth… ‘Wayne’. An oaf perhaps but a rich oaf. An immaculate rich, handsome oaf.
Why was she reaching for his hand? Her gaze flicked to the centre and then back again. “Dance? Really?” Oh G_D was she really talking. “I can’t dance... and the crush?” She looked at him nervously. The crooked smile slipped into more symmetric frown. “I’m not sure its wise…” she didn’t even feel it was wise to be there. And then she lowered her voice to whisper “You ARE him right? Shouldn’t you be getting ready to talk at us?” –e-
Batman: He felt the heat around him, but as she took his hand he began to tap people on the shoulder to step aside. “Excuse us…” He glanced back at her and nodded. “Yes, I’m Bruce Wayne.” Upon entering the center she would be a little surprised to see there were less people, approximately 20 different couples were dancing to classical music that set the moment of a dark night in Gotham. Bruce pulled Pamela closer to him allowing her to place her hands upon him. “To answer your question, I’m not so much in the front of the company, I’m the owner and CEO, but I think the event planners would rather speak. They deserve the credit for this.” Bruce’s hand would come to rest on Pamela’s back as his other hand held hers, his movements would lead her. “Has anyone told you that you look beautiful yet? I don’t want to take away someone else’s fire.” <c>
Batman: Their movements were a flowing and in a rocking motion of back and forth like a flowing river with calm and steadiness bouncing between them. His gaze fixed on her despite their clear height difference, her heels helped make things easier for him to reach her. “Forgive me…” Bruce said with a apologetic tone as he smirked at his own silliness before continuing to ask. “-You seem to know who I am, but I didn’t catch your name?” Smiling at her, he gave her a cue to step back and twirl her in a circle while holding her hand and then bring her closer to himself once more to place their hands into their respective positions again.[/font]
Mouse: The crush eased some as they reached the centre of the crowd, enough that she could see more than shoulders and backs and lapels and breasts,so irritating, and she was able to take a large breath as she was tugged into the open space, a breath that stayed with her as she suddenly tugged her into a dance hold and then exhaled in a rush. “Wait... I can’t...” but her hand was held out and then his other hand was against the small of her back, she was seized with an urge to giggle as she reached for his shoulder and looked up past his barrel chest.
“Beautiful?‘ she did giggle then, a goofy, “huhuh” that showed her upper teeth as she hunched over and looked away, suddenly coming back to reality as she saw the revelers stopped, looking, watching her, watching him, watching the idiot make a fool of herself with the great Bruce Wayne. She looked up again. Beautiful? Was he mocking her? With her big nose and ears and eyes and teeth, the little red head who’s head didn’t even reach is bowtie. She looked around again at the crowd, damn them, she could see the smirks, the laughing getting ready to burst forth and she released his shoulder, attempting to step away “I really can’t da...”
But then they were moving, he seemed to be going through with this, and she was following as best she could, ’Damn, that was his toe… oops and again’ a peel of laughter and her gaze flicked to the crowd to see who it was. He didn’t seem to notice though, didn’t flinch or smirk, he just held her. She looked up again, he was looking at her, steadily, her spine felt weak, why was he looking at her so? She could feel her cheeks beginning to flush , more laughter from the crowd, and then he twirled her away she half expected him to let her go and to fall but he pulled her back and held her tighter, “…can’t dance.”
Batman: He caught that she seemed to be overwhelmed by everyone, amused and entertained by the sight of the two. Bruce would gently remind her. “I’m right here, Ms…” His blue eyes still fixed on her, as he could hear the music and the soft laughter of a few people. A man with a camera even approached them. “Mister Wayne, may I?” Bruce looked to Pamela. “If my partner is okay with it.” Bruce wrapped his hand around Pamela’s back to welcome her by his side for the photo shot, if she was willing. The photographer would smile and give them both a thumb up. See the pictures tomorrow when I upload them onto Wayne Enterprise’s website.” A hand held out to Pamela once again from Bruce to her in order to continue dancing. “You’re doing fine.” Bruce had felt her stepping on his toes but, she would find his toes were steel toed and weren’t really budging to her weight. <c>
Batman: “I still haven’t gotten your name.” Bruce spoke gently, reminding her that he wanted her name. “Unless you want to keep me guessing, I’m not one for mysteries so, it might take a while. Heh.”[/font]
Mouse: He was still looking at her, no one looked at her this long, no, someone had, but he...’don’t think about it.’ Usually they looked at her and then their attention slipped and their eyes and interest moved on. Selina had barely seemed to see her at all most of the time, looking past her. She stumbled over his feet again “Ohhh” He kept asking her name. Should she say, she winced again, not at stepping on his toes again, but at the thought of him hunting her down. Why would he? The little rat-faced girl, her brow furrowed at the thought and then ‘What? A photographer? Actually yes I do mi…’ too late, ‘Did I blink when he took the picture? I did, didn’t I? Bruce Wayne with his arm over the head of the little rat faced woman with her eyes shut. Brilliant!’ She allowed herself to be pulled back to him more laughter, this time hiding her face against his chest, he smelled good, ‘Oh G_d with the names again” she let out a long thin sigh and held on tighter, why was he looking at her so? 'He's' she couldn't find the word as she pressed against his chest, just a word he had used '...beautiful.' -e-
Batman: He stopped dancing and stared at her, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I guess-…” “Mister Wayne, pardon the intrusion we need you to sign some papers.” Bruce looked at the man and gave a nod. “Alright, one moment…” “They need you now sir, the mayor….” “Oh, right…Uh, I’ll be right there.” Bruce looked to Pamela and smirked. “Saved by the bell. Well Ms. Mouse, you won’t be quiet forever…My charm will rub off on you eventually. If you change your mind, here’s my number, maybe we could get some dinner sometime.” Bruce placed his hand upon her shoulder and gave her a gentle rub before handing her his card. “I enjoyed our dance; I hope to hear more from you, next time.” Bruce began stepping back when the manager’s voice called again “Come on, Mister Wayne, right this way.” <c>
Batman: Bruce grinned looking at Pamela before turning and walking up a flight of cement stairs. “Who was that woman? I’ve never seen her around the company before.” Bruce said as he followed the manager. “I don’t know…She might be the daughter of someone here. She’s really small. Watch yourself Bruce.” Bruce adjusted his tie as he walked. “She’s mysterious and interesting.”[/font]
Mouse: She closed her eyes as she rested her face on his shirt ‘What am I doing?’ and then there was distance between them, moving apart ,and arms and voices between them, separating them, opening the empty spaces. Ms. Mouse, she flinched at the word, and then his card I her hand his hand on her shoulder looking down from so far above. She opened her mouth but he was gone. His head was visible only briefly above the other revellers until they blocked her view. “Pamela… I’m Pamela” but it was barely a whisper and he was gone –e-.
Story By: Mouse, Catwoman, and Batman
Heroes: Batman
Villains: Catwoman, Mouse
Plot: The origin story about Catwoman and Mouse continues and the stakes are changed when a Wayne Enterprise employee begins obsessing over Bruce Wayne, Catwoman returns and one can't help wonder if she means to wage war in order to keep her 'territory.'
Mouse: She stared at the invitation.
No one ever came, the days had turned into weeks, the food had run out and she had stepped blinking into the light. The weeks had turned into months and a life had begun again. The months had turned into years and she had pushed all those thoughts from her mind, become a new thing, kein mitleid, they had called her Mouse.
Earle was gone, and she was forgotten, no one remembered her, she slipped through the cracks, but the money still came. The little Mouse, too small to catch their eye, falling between the cracks of a growing empire.
More than two years and now they remembered her? Earle was gone, and there was never a word, never a knock at the door, no questions had been asked. But now an invitation. Had her name simply appeared on a list of staff? Why would she be remembered now?
Maybe it just came from the payroll. The invitation was simple, printed in an elegant script on expensive paper. What else would one expect from Wayne?
Pamela Sweigeld
you are invited
to the rededication of the revised Wayne Mass Transit System
by Bruce Wayne
at Wayne Plaza
September 5th at 8pm
Cocktails and Hors d’Oeuvres will be served
Attire: Cocktail
RSVP
you are invited
to the rededication of the revised Wayne Mass Transit System
by Bruce Wayne
at Wayne Plaza
September 5th at 8pm
Cocktails and Hors d’Oeuvres will be served
Attire: Cocktail
RSVP
It meant nothing.
She had not returned to Wayne Tower since it had all happened. She had no intention of returning now, Pamela Sweigeld was gone, she was ‘Mouse’ now, living quietly and invisibly, slipping in through holes in the firewalls of the rich and bloated to steal, to be comfortable, to be safe. If she never saw Wayne Enterprises again, it would still be too soon, her nose wrinkled, the invitation flipped and fluttered into the ‘round file’. She should draft a resignation letter.
Nights of unrest, memories, regrets, emptiness, a tall dark man in the corridors of the tower and in the pages of the newspapers. Thoughts and emotions jumbled together. Wayne Tower was no place for her. She would be a fool to go back there. No good could come of it.
The letter was never written, the invitation retrieved, she never did know why, especially not as she laid the expensive dresses on the bed. The Mouse stole what she needed, what she needed to pay for what she wanted. And if what she wanted happened to be a $3000 dress or four they would hang just as well from her shoulders as they would off some chairman’s mistress. The ankle length, too formal, the pink, didn’t seem right, the grey, the patterned silver with the lace seemed right for such a night with silver grey wedges, tall enough to not vanish amongst the throng, but closed toed not to be stepped on, she was sure there would be shoving.
She still couldn’t quite rationalize why she was there as she stood on the edge of the plaza. It was different now, they called it a Peace Garden, great fountains in the shape of goblets pouring water into channels that ran to the center of the plaza in trickling streams and there met the jet fountains dancing their intricate patterns in the air. Some of the revelers there already, laughing, pushing each other into the jets, heels clicking and glasses ringing amongst the screams and giggles. Great spotlights swung in lazy arcs as the fall dusk darkened into night, picking out the arms, the framework of the new monorail, more layers now and junctions, the destruction had paved the way for a more complete system, for a more ‘unified city’. She found herself scoffing quietly to herself, the people would tear the city apart far faster than steel would unite it. The lights caught the rail itself, gleaming, shining, though most of the system had been back in use for weeks already. Doubtless there would be fireworks too, it hurt… it hurt to be here again, however much she tried to forget.
Where were the cocktails? She needed something to get her through this… it had been a mistake. The Plaza was full already and she began to feel stifled, some familiar faces , too many people, familiar and unfamiliar, she felt her throat beginning to constrict, but still Wayne Enterprises employees were arriving, many by the transit itself, carried down in the fanciest clothes they could muster in the glass elevators on the side of the transit towers, pouring out into the Plaza, smiling and laughing.
Pamela began to work her way around the edge of the crowd, buffeted by the occasional shove, she found herself wanting to slide a knife into them , or to be miles away and hearing the pop of a pipe bomb. So many voices, so many mouths, shouting and laughing all above her head. She ground her heel down on exposed toes, what stupid cow wore sandals in a crowd like this? The refreshments tables were either side of the podium, no doubt where Wayne would rain his beneficence upon the common people, she tried to fight her way towards them, if it was this bad on the edges, what must it be like in the masses?
She should have stayed at home, the thought occurred to her again and again, and try as she might she couldn’t understand why she hadn’t, or why she was fighting to get to the front of a queue for vol au vents, canapés and a Cosmo. ‘I don’t want to be here.’
“Why am I here?” -e-
Bruce Wayne: “Why do you think the Batman is here?” Was the question from Vicki Vale to her guest on the T.V program. The voice of an elder man chimed in. “She’s quite lovely, Master Bruce, and on a bonus note, she’s not a thief.” Bruce’s hands pulled the suit jacket over his shoulders and adjusted its fit by tugging on each side of his lapel and inner jacket lining. Bruce was examining himself in the mirror while doing so. “You know, I don’t think women are a solution to my problems, Alfred.” Alfred took a moment and then shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose a young acrobatic orphan is? You know what they say-…” Alfred was cut off by Vicki Vale’s voice. “Ted, what kind of father puts their child in that kind of danger?” “Maybe the boy isn’t his father, maybe the man is a pedophile, Vicki. The main point is that this
Bat-Man’s moral compass is questionable. Where most children would be playing football, he takes this child to get shot at and clubbed by Gotham’s most dangerous creeps. <c> ^Bruce Wayne: Prancing around with femme fatale clad in latex.” Bruce turned to look at Alfred. “Really?” Alfred remained silent as Bruce turned to walk towards the door. “I’m fine with what I’m doing. There’s no one that can replace Rachel, Alfred…I thought it was Selina, but…I was wrong. Just drop it, please…For Rachel’s sake.” Bruce said with a bit of rebellious sarcasm in his tone. “Look after Dick, and make sure he does his homework.” Alfred smiled. “Will do, sir.” Bruce rode to the gathering and upon arrival he handed his car off to a valet. He smiled seeing the masses of people as some came to shake Bruce’s hand.
“Hey Mister Wayne.” “Mister Wayne, good to see you.” “Oh, Mister Wayne you made it.” were the common things people spoke to him. He watched as the outer crowd was busy and difficult to make way towards the center so he slowly walked with the group when he saw a big opening he squeezed his way through when it turned out there was a small woman he didn’t see. <c>
Bruce Wayne: He was bumped from behind and stumbled into her but, before his legs would step on her she might’ve seen his fast reflexes as he spread his legs to either side of her and grabbed hold of a object to prevent him from falling on her. He smiled at Pamela and some breath left his mouth allowing her to pick up a minty scent. “Hey…sorry, almost bumped into you.” He stood up right and adjusted his legs. “I didn’t see you here until it was almost too late.” Bruce felt the space between her and him close enough though they were now standing still, almost an awkward feeling until Bruce cleared his throat and said. “In the center there is dancing…perhaps you would give me the honor to dance with you?” He thought it was a nice recover line as he held his hand out to Pamela to hold and then lead her to follow him. <c>
Bruce Wayne: She would have front row vision of his blue dress shirt with a navy blue dress tie with dark patterned diamond shapes on it; it was a subtle tie but, matched none the less. His black pants matched his belt and jacket along with his polished dress shoes. His hair was conservatively groomed to the side and short cut with a bit more hair on the top.[/font]
Mouse: The cosmo was adequate, a little sweet perhaps, she wondered what they had put in… it should be sharper, she wrinkled er nose at the taste and nibbled at the food. It was passible, the plates, paper, ‘Classy, sure you can afford that MR Wayne’ she nibbled, delicately, and with no great appetite, frowning as she was jostled again and again, trying to find some space to exist, trying to squeeze between the oafs… into a gap, maybe enough to get her away from the heat pourig off them, she felt as if she could hear the blood rushing through her head already, always a mistake, always, always better to hide. She stepped towards the gap. –c-
Suddenly another, a dark shape towering over her curling over to obscure the sky, a jolt, surprise, she should have known better and then cosmo was on her, jolted out of her glass as she started at his appearance, as he leaned over her seemingly about to topple on top of her. She felt the cold dampness on her and tried to step away , to increase the gap between them. ‘Too close! Too close! In my personal space!’, her chest began to tighten, more so when she bumped into another as she tried to back away. ‘No Space…Idiot! Go Away!’ she thought, ‘How could he not have seen me?’ She wanted to … she didn’t know what she wanted to do, to hurt to retaliate, but she had nothing, and yet, something in the voice, calming, familiar. She looked up and up. A face silhouetted against the bright lights around the Peace Garden, she had seen this face before, in the magazines on TV, a crooked smile tugged at the corner of her mouth… ‘Wayne’. An oaf perhaps but a rich oaf. An immaculate rich, handsome oaf.
Why was she reaching for his hand? Her gaze flicked to the centre and then back again. “Dance? Really?” Oh G_D was she really talking. “I can’t dance... and the crush?” She looked at him nervously. The crooked smile slipped into more symmetric frown. “I’m not sure its wise…” she didn’t even feel it was wise to be there. And then she lowered her voice to whisper “You ARE him right? Shouldn’t you be getting ready to talk at us?” –e-
Batman: He felt the heat around him, but as she took his hand he began to tap people on the shoulder to step aside. “Excuse us…” He glanced back at her and nodded. “Yes, I’m Bruce Wayne.” Upon entering the center she would be a little surprised to see there were less people, approximately 20 different couples were dancing to classical music that set the moment of a dark night in Gotham. Bruce pulled Pamela closer to him allowing her to place her hands upon him. “To answer your question, I’m not so much in the front of the company, I’m the owner and CEO, but I think the event planners would rather speak. They deserve the credit for this.” Bruce’s hand would come to rest on Pamela’s back as his other hand held hers, his movements would lead her. “Has anyone told you that you look beautiful yet? I don’t want to take away someone else’s fire.” <c>
Batman: Their movements were a flowing and in a rocking motion of back and forth like a flowing river with calm and steadiness bouncing between them. His gaze fixed on her despite their clear height difference, her heels helped make things easier for him to reach her. “Forgive me…” Bruce said with a apologetic tone as he smirked at his own silliness before continuing to ask. “-You seem to know who I am, but I didn’t catch your name?” Smiling at her, he gave her a cue to step back and twirl her in a circle while holding her hand and then bring her closer to himself once more to place their hands into their respective positions again.[/font]
Mouse: The crush eased some as they reached the centre of the crowd, enough that she could see more than shoulders and backs and lapels and breasts,so irritating, and she was able to take a large breath as she was tugged into the open space, a breath that stayed with her as she suddenly tugged her into a dance hold and then exhaled in a rush. “Wait... I can’t...” but her hand was held out and then his other hand was against the small of her back, she was seized with an urge to giggle as she reached for his shoulder and looked up past his barrel chest.
“Beautiful?‘ she did giggle then, a goofy, “huhuh” that showed her upper teeth as she hunched over and looked away, suddenly coming back to reality as she saw the revelers stopped, looking, watching her, watching him, watching the idiot make a fool of herself with the great Bruce Wayne. She looked up again. Beautiful? Was he mocking her? With her big nose and ears and eyes and teeth, the little red head who’s head didn’t even reach is bowtie. She looked around again at the crowd, damn them, she could see the smirks, the laughing getting ready to burst forth and she released his shoulder, attempting to step away “I really can’t da...”
But then they were moving, he seemed to be going through with this, and she was following as best she could, ’Damn, that was his toe… oops and again’ a peel of laughter and her gaze flicked to the crowd to see who it was. He didn’t seem to notice though, didn’t flinch or smirk, he just held her. She looked up again, he was looking at her, steadily, her spine felt weak, why was he looking at her so? She could feel her cheeks beginning to flush , more laughter from the crowd, and then he twirled her away she half expected him to let her go and to fall but he pulled her back and held her tighter, “…can’t dance.”
Batman: He caught that she seemed to be overwhelmed by everyone, amused and entertained by the sight of the two. Bruce would gently remind her. “I’m right here, Ms…” His blue eyes still fixed on her, as he could hear the music and the soft laughter of a few people. A man with a camera even approached them. “Mister Wayne, may I?” Bruce looked to Pamela. “If my partner is okay with it.” Bruce wrapped his hand around Pamela’s back to welcome her by his side for the photo shot, if she was willing. The photographer would smile and give them both a thumb up. See the pictures tomorrow when I upload them onto Wayne Enterprise’s website.” A hand held out to Pamela once again from Bruce to her in order to continue dancing. “You’re doing fine.” Bruce had felt her stepping on his toes but, she would find his toes were steel toed and weren’t really budging to her weight. <c>
Batman: “I still haven’t gotten your name.” Bruce spoke gently, reminding her that he wanted her name. “Unless you want to keep me guessing, I’m not one for mysteries so, it might take a while. Heh.”[/font]
Mouse: He was still looking at her, no one looked at her this long, no, someone had, but he...’don’t think about it.’ Usually they looked at her and then their attention slipped and their eyes and interest moved on. Selina had barely seemed to see her at all most of the time, looking past her. She stumbled over his feet again “Ohhh” He kept asking her name. Should she say, she winced again, not at stepping on his toes again, but at the thought of him hunting her down. Why would he? The little rat-faced girl, her brow furrowed at the thought and then ‘What? A photographer? Actually yes I do mi…’ too late, ‘Did I blink when he took the picture? I did, didn’t I? Bruce Wayne with his arm over the head of the little rat faced woman with her eyes shut. Brilliant!’ She allowed herself to be pulled back to him more laughter, this time hiding her face against his chest, he smelled good, ‘Oh G_d with the names again” she let out a long thin sigh and held on tighter, why was he looking at her so? 'He's' she couldn't find the word as she pressed against his chest, just a word he had used '...beautiful.' -e-
Batman: He stopped dancing and stared at her, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I guess-…” “Mister Wayne, pardon the intrusion we need you to sign some papers.” Bruce looked at the man and gave a nod. “Alright, one moment…” “They need you now sir, the mayor….” “Oh, right…Uh, I’ll be right there.” Bruce looked to Pamela and smirked. “Saved by the bell. Well Ms. Mouse, you won’t be quiet forever…My charm will rub off on you eventually. If you change your mind, here’s my number, maybe we could get some dinner sometime.” Bruce placed his hand upon her shoulder and gave her a gentle rub before handing her his card. “I enjoyed our dance; I hope to hear more from you, next time.” Bruce began stepping back when the manager’s voice called again “Come on, Mister Wayne, right this way.” <c>
Batman: Bruce grinned looking at Pamela before turning and walking up a flight of cement stairs. “Who was that woman? I’ve never seen her around the company before.” Bruce said as he followed the manager. “I don’t know…She might be the daughter of someone here. She’s really small. Watch yourself Bruce.” Bruce adjusted his tie as he walked. “She’s mysterious and interesting.”[/font]
Mouse: She closed her eyes as she rested her face on his shirt ‘What am I doing?’ and then there was distance between them, moving apart ,and arms and voices between them, separating them, opening the empty spaces. Ms. Mouse, she flinched at the word, and then his card I her hand his hand on her shoulder looking down from so far above. She opened her mouth but he was gone. His head was visible only briefly above the other revellers until they blocked her view. “Pamela… I’m Pamela” but it was barely a whisper and he was gone –e-.