Batman doesn't belong to me and if you think he does, then wow! feel free to sue me, I guess. For this piece of rubbish, I would certainly consider it.

"The end of the hallway." She nodded and began the walk down the hallway. Passing a group of people in business suits made her wonder if perhaps her jeans and sweater were a bit underdressed. This was so stupid. She hadn't become a cop to interview billionaires in their cushy offices. She'd done it to fight crime, be down on the streets arresting thugs, not up in big high rises asking for directions.

"Lieutenant Bryant to see Mr. Wayne please." She showed the secretary her badge. Lot of good that gold badge was doing Gotham.

"Take a seat over there. I'll tell him you're here." As she took a seat outside two huge black double doors she heard the secretary 'beep' Mr. Wayne of her presence. She didn't really like these rich types. Always thinking they were right just because they were covered in money. And Bruce Wayne had to be the worst one of them all. He'd been rich since he was a kid. Nothing makes you lose your touch with reality more than never having been there. "Ms. Bryant, Mr. Wayne will see you now." She smiled and bit her tongue, resisting the urge to correct the secretary: Lieutenant Bryant.

She walked through the thick double doors and into the very spacious office. There was desk on the left side of the room and there was a man bent over the desk signing some papers. "Please, sit down. I just have a few things to finish up." She sat down in the chair across from the desk and waited. Finally, he looked up. He was a very handsome man with brown hair and green eyes. He looked just like the magazine covers she'd seen of him, only better. She tried not to stare. "Yes, Ms. Bryant?" he asked as if unsure of her name.

"Lt. Bryant, yes." She hoped she hadn't sound too rude. "I need to ask you a few questions about a former employee of yours that is facing attempted murder charges. We're interviewing people for his psychological profile. I was told you might be able to help." He smiled. Yikes. She looked down at the pad of paper in her lap.

"I will if I can."

"Well, the man is Joseph Brett. Do you remember him?"

"Yes, vaguely."

"Did you ever notice any strange behavior on his part?"

"He was very motivated, but I guess that's not all that strange, just rare."

"Did you ever receive any complaints about him from the other workers?" She tried to keep her eyes on the notes she was writing. She'd read a lot about Bruce Wayne and he seemed pretty intimidating and, in person, extremely appealing.

"No."

"Any outstanding aptitudes?"

"I wouldn't know off hand. I can get you his employee file, if you like."

"Thank you, Mr. Wayne."

"Call me Bruce." He began typing on his computer. 'Call me Bruce.' That was old. As if he or any one else who used that line really had any desire to be on a first name basis. "Here it is." He motioned for her to come around to his side of the desk, which she did. She leaned over his shoulder to read the copy on the screen.

"Aptitudes: math and chemistry. That fits. Wife and two kids. One brother. We'll need to find him." She suddenly became aware of how close she was to the attractive Mr. Wayne. She instantly stood up. "Thank you very much for your time. You've been very helpful, Mr. Wayne." She extended her hand. He stood and took her hand in a firm hand shake.

"Bruce," he corrected. "And I don't believe I caught your first name."

"That's because I didn't say it, but it's Emma. Emma Bryant." She quickly took her hand back.

"I can send you a copy of the file to you at the Police Department, if you like. Or maybe at a home address . . ."

"At the department is fine. It'll get to me there." She turned toward the door.

"Uh, Lt. Bryant, would you agree to perhaps an off-duty interview?" She turned and smiled at him. Rich, good-looking guy, probably thinks he can have any woman he wants. He's probably gotten to the point where he chases after them just for sport. She wasn't a big sports fan.

"I'll be back in a few days for a follow-up interview, Mr. Wayne. Thank you for your time." She turned and walked out the door, very casually and yet very quickly. She didn't want to give him a chance to respond.

She made her way downtown to the Police Dept. It was strange to think that "Crime Alley" was just a few blocks from the dept. That was a testament to the amount of fear that the police struck into the criminals of Gotham. She walked through the doors and started toward her office.

"Bryant!" One of the rookies ran up to her with a small stack of papers in her hand. "This just came in for you from Wayne Enterprises." She looked at the paper in surprise. One thing could be said about Bruce Wayne: he didn't procrastinate.

"Thanks, Anderson. Hey, have you seen today's paper?"

"It's on your desk."

"Thanks." She went on into her office. She closed the door, somewhat blocking out the constant chatter in the building. She tossed the file on her desk and looked down at the newspaper. "Batman Nabs Ten in Bank Heist," read the headline. Batman deserved some sort of award for most front-page articles per one person. He was like a one-man police department and twice as effective.

* * *

"Bryant!" She heard Commissioner Gordon shouting from outside her office.

She cautiously peeked her head out the door. "Yes, Commissioner?"

"I need you to schedule that follow-up interview with Bruce Wayne. We need to get this case wrapped up."

"Uh, right. I'll call right now." Much to her chagrin, Commissioner Gordon stood by her as she called Wayne Enterprises. "Hello. This is Lt. Bryant. I need to schedule an appointment with Mr. Wayne as soon as possible." The woman put her on hold. She waited silently, too scared to say anything.

"Mr. Wayne says any time is fine. When is most convenient for you?" She glanced up at Commissioner Gordon's angry face.

"How about now?"

* * *

There she was walking down those hallways. At least this time she wouldn't have to ask for directions. She quickly twisted her shoulder length brown hair into a tight bun. She'd worn a suit to work. The rest of her looked so strict she might as well complete the look. She walked up to the desk. "He's waiting for you," the secretary said, motioning her to go into the office. She went through the double doors. This time he greeted her.

"Lt. Bryant, good to see you again. I was beginning to wonder when you'd call. Please, sit down." She took as seat. He looked at her, waiting for her to speak. It made her slightly nervous to have his attention so wholly on her. She hated it when people made her feel nervous.

"We're very near to wrapping up this case. I really just need to check if perhaps you'd remembered anything or if anything had come up."

"After you left last time I remembered receiving a complaint about his temper. I'll make sure a copy of the complaint is sent to you. Apparently, he flew off the handle rather easily."

"That seems to be the case in this situation." She glanced down at her wristwatch.

"Well, if that's all, I think I'll be going. Again, thank you for your time, Mr. Wayne."

"Again, please call me Bruce."

"Of course," she said, trying to get to the door. Why did that man make her feel that way? Was it his money and power, or his good looks that made her feel like a helpless teenager? He started walking toward her.

"Mr. Wayne?" The voice came through the machine on his desk. "Lt. Bryant has been requested back at the Police Dept. There seems to be some trouble." She shrugged at him and smiled.

"I leave for twenty minutes and they get into trouble."

"I'd imagine you're very important." The tone of his voice sent chills up he back and she suddenly became aware of how warm the room was. She quickly said good-bye and left hoping she hadn't seemed rude.

* * *

"What's the problem?" she asked as she walked through the doors. Anderson explained the problem. The computers were down and they'd lost all the files. She was the only one in the entire Police Dept. who had extensive knowledge of computers. They often called her even for minor problems, but this time she didn't mind. She typed in a few words and the word "files" popped up on the screen. "There." She pushed away from the desk and headed toward the sanctuary of her office. She found a copy of Entrepreneur Magazine on her desk. Bruce Wayne's face stared back from the cover and she had to smile.

She walked past Anderson's cubicle where Anderson was hard at work. "Good night, Kelly. I'm going home."

"You finally get the Brett case finished?"

"Yeah, three weeks after our last follow-up interview and we just now get it in order. I'll have to make sure that doesn't become a habit." Anderson smiled and looked up at her through her thick glasses.

"Even if it does, it's a lot better than the rest of us." She smiled at the rookie and pulled on her tan trench coat.

"Don't work too late." She walked out into the rain. It seemed like it was always raining in Gotham. It was like the city had a permanent rain cloud hovering over it. She thought about the day's work when she realized she was passing Wayne Enterprises. Her route home always took her past the skyscraper, but it hadn't mattered before. She looked up at the building, smiling as she remembered her meetings with the infamous Bruce Wayne.

"Help!" The shrill scream broke her from her thoughts. "He's got my purse." Just then a young man ran past her, bumping her shoulder. She noticed the red handbag under his arm. She doubted that it was the latest teen fashion craze. She took off after him.

It felt good to get that adrenaline pumping, to be chasing after a thief. That was what Gotham needed. The kid glanced behind him and saw her following. He tipped over a trash can to block her path, but she quickly hurdled it and kept of running. She reached out her hand and felt her fingers brush against the kid's collar. She grabbed hold of his leather jacket and pulled him back enough to get a grip around his neck.

The boy struggled, almost throwing her off, but she kept a tight hold and slammed him against a wall. She fished for the handcuffs in her pocket. Finding them, she hooked them to one of the kid's wrists. The kid started shouting something about police brutality and pushed against her. "Stop fighting and it won't hurt," she replied as she slapped the cuffs on his other wrist. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a police officer come running up. She pushed the kid toward him. "Do me a favor and take him downtown."

She bent down and picked up the red purse. Just then a middle-aged woman pushed her way through the crowd that had formed. "Here's your purse, Miss." She handed the lady her bag and turned to walk away.

"Oh, wait," the woman called out. "Please, let me reward you in some way."

"That's all right." She pulled back her jacket to expose her badge. "It's my job." The woman smiled and thanked her several times before continuing on her way.

"Lt. Bryant." She turned to see Bruce Wayne leaning out his car window. It was a fancy Rolls-Royce. That fit. Chauffeur and all. "Fighting crime on the streets of Gotham?" She walked up to the stopped silver car.

"Doing my best." He smiled and there seemed to be something else in that smile, but what it was she couldn't tell.

"Will I be arrested if I try to ask you out again? I know you've tried to avoid the question the other times." She smiled, suddenly feeling embarrassed about her behavior in his presence.

"I guess I just found it hard to believe that the famous Bruce Wayne would be interested in a simple police lieutenant," she replied, whimsically. His face became pleasantly serious.

"Don't sell yourself short. You're anything but simple." She looked at him for a moment. If this was a game to him, he was definitely a pro. No harm in a little sports.

"I won't arrest you . . ." she said, smiling.

"May I have your company for dinner tomorrow at my house about seven?"

"Yes, you may." He smiled.

"I'll see you then." He reached out and took her hand. Softly, he kissed her knuckles and drove off.