"I like going to these things with you. Not least because it's nice being at a party where everyone's not staring at me." Bruce stands before the full body mirror, adjusting his tie as sounds of guests entering reverberate through the Wayne manor.

Sometimes he forgets you're a criminal. He knows better than anyone the risks of being involved with you, what that would entail. A romance full of lies, broken promises, and unspoken feelings. You and him both know his trust issues are far too severe to allow for a healthy relationship. And his patronizing, albeit unintentionally, offers to 'help' you didn't do the two of you any justice.

But he's found a rare sense of comfort in this arrangement. In you. Crime-fighting together, passionate nights on rooftops, and being plus-ones at social gatherings. He's reluctant to admit it, won't, actually, but he's grown consumed by it. The thrill of it.

You could tell him that you simply like him, that you don't know what that means. It wouldn't matter. He loves you. And he knows exactly what that means.

What he doesn't know is that there's a bomb planted under the Gotham ice rink. Or when you plan to tell him. You do, though. Of course, Joker told you all about it, excluding the part where it would mock the poor bat. He'll go through all that trouble, no time for diffusion, and it won't even explode.

Bruce knows you still talk to Joker. You know his whereabouts, and yet, you won't tell Bruce a thing. You're a thief, Joker's a murderer. You plan things, take things for a reason. There's no plan with him. It's just blood for blood. He's meaningless.

Before jealousy can rear it's ugly head, he's focused on the people. This isn't stealing diamonds this time. He tries to have faith in the good within you, he knows you're more than capable. But sometimes...you really test his patience.

"We'll be in the columns tomorrow. I don't want that to worry you. I've been in them since birth. It is what it is. But I am sorry I have to drag you into it, for what it's worth."