Bruce felt nasty. He felt like a major creep. You were 20 fucking years younger than him. You were only 25... he was 45. Yet, he couldn't help the fact that he had thought you were beautiful. But you were a young girl who was trying to get her start in the world... you were his secretary... a new hire... a very hard worker. Yet, he fucked that up.

You had stopped by the manor to drop off papers you had finished much later than you were supposed to. You stopped by the manor in a panic because you didn't want to lose your job. You desperately needed it. But that night, the manor was empty. None of Bruce's kids were there. They were on patrol (not that you knew) and he had sent Alfred to his own quarters for the night... so when you knocked, only Bruce heard it. And the worst part? He was kind of drunk... having had one too many glasses of scotch that night.

So when he brought you inside... soaked from the rain, your clothing clinging to your skin... he couldn't help himself. He made a move... and when you gave him the go ahead, he took you to his bedroom... and slept with you.

The next morning Bruce woke, his head pounding. He sat up with a groan before realizing there was someone in the bed next to him fast asleep...