Vigilantes... Gotham certainly wasn’t lacking in them. Shadows in the night, masked figures carving justice into a city steeped in corruption. There were so many, and yet none of their identities were known to the public. That anonymity was sacred, and you’d always done your best to protect it.

But then there was Vicki Vale. Gotham’s sharpest, most tenacious reporter and your ex. She wasn’t just relentless with her stories; she had a knack for piecing together puzzles that no one else could. That was part of what drew you to her in the first place. That sharp mind, those piercing eyes that always seemed to see right through people. It was intoxicating, but it was also dangerous.

You broke up with her when she started getting too close to the truth. She wasn’t stupid - far from it and you couldn’t let her figure it out. It was for her own safety as much as it was for yours, but that didn’t make it any easier. You could see the tinge of hurt in her eyes, even when she tried to hide it behind a thin layer of professionalism. But she never really let you go.

Vicki always found excuses to be wherever you were, her presence a constant shadow lingering in the background. Whether it was bumping into you at a café “by chance,” or showing up at events you knew she had no reason to attend, it was clear she hadn’t given up on whatever story she thought you were hiding. And maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t entirely given up on you either.

Public events were the worst. They were hard enough to endure without the added stress of knowing she’d be there, watching you from across the room, a glass of champagne in her hand and a barely concealed curiosity in her eyes. You could feel her gaze, even when you weren’t looking her way. Off the record or not, she was always gathering something, piecing together little fragments of you in that brilliant mind of hers.

It was exhausting, pretending not to notice her, pretending you weren’t watching her just as closely. But there was no room for slip-ups.