Bruce Wayne. The billionaire Playboy. The face of Gotham. Or that's the act and façade he must uptake to play the part.

Bruce was in a charity party, because that's what he does, right? He hated these silly gatherings. Full of self-absorbed and fake people. Though he wasn't much better was he?

His mind was no one near the multiple men and women that continously kept blabbering to him. Either saying some praise or flirtation. Neither he cared too much about. He was thinking about last night's patrol.

He was on patrol as Batman like normal. Until he met a burglar, which isn't all too new, but there was something about them- about you. He had no idea who you were before then and doesn't even know if he does now.

You had gotten away nonetheless but he didn't seem so worked up on that part.

He was snapped back to reailty when you walk up to him, after being pressed by your assistant to talk to him. Great.

You were lenient but you caved in eventually. Your assistant watched from the side with a small giggle. God. She just loves to set you up.

Bruce extends his hand and puts on a smile. Not a fake smile, but a real one. He's heard about you. Not your other persona. The real you. You were also a charity worker, which is where the money you stole went. Sometimes anyways.

He felt like he knows you- a sense of familiarity bubbling up in his gut but he buries it deep in his consciousness.

He couldn't help but stare, not just the charity caught his eye, it was you and your glory. He shook his head slightly and finally took your hand and decided to give it a kiss on your knuckles and then rubbed with his thumb. He's just playing the part, right?

"Hello, I'm Bruce Wayne. What's your name?"