‹ Prequel: The Joker and the Thief
Status: Don't worry. There's another one...
A Serious House on Serious Earth
Changes
When I woke up, the blankets had been kicked to the floor and the sheets were soaked in sweat, as was my hair. I cursed global warming and the current heat wave which had engulfed all of Gotham City. It didn’t help that my air conditioner had broken at the end of the summer last year and I hadn’t bothered to get it fixed. Now, in the mist of a record heat, every repair company was backed up with calls. The heat also caused a rather large increase in crime, so I was a bit too scared to leave the winds open at night. My only source of relief was a couple of old box fans, both of which were placed in my bedroom.
Ill rested; I got up and took a cold shower. I quietly endured the agony as I blow-dried my dim red hair, which I had inherited from my father. Again, I had trouble finding clothes that were suitable for work, but not too oppressive in the heat. In the end, I settled on a black pencil skirt and a light blue silk blouse. When I looked in the mirror, I consciously avoided looking at my right arm and the ugly scar. I grabbed my purse and keys and stepped into a pair of heels before leaving my already sweltering apartment.
Outside wasn’t much better. Normally, I walked to work but the past week I took the bus due to the extreme heat. Wayne Tower was easy enough to get to since it was practically in the center of Gotham City. Built in 1938, the limestone building was seventy-eight stories tall and that doesn’t count its seemingly bottomless basements. I had never been down to the sub-levels of Wayne Towers, but my boss frequently felt the need to recite numerous horror stories of people being lost forever in the labyrinth of dark rooms. If you believe the stories, then there are about a hundred bodies rotting beneath the main lobby.
I passed though the main doors and stopped a moment to appreciate the air conditioning before continuing to the elevator. I had been working at Wayne Enterprises for almost three years now. The job offer came at an unusual time and at an unusual setting. When the elevator doors dinged open, I was joined by ten other people in suits. I filed in and pressed the button marked 50. The elevator was almost empty when it stopped on the fiftieth floor and I was the only one to step out. When I first began working at Wayne Tower, I worked on the tenth floor as an assistant’s assistant. Basically, I stapled and sorted papers and fetched coffee. I got a few small promotions; each time I was moved up a few floors. About two years ago, I got a really big promotion, which put me on the fiftieth floor.
Even though it wasn’t the top floor of Wayne Tower, it was the top floor of Wayne Enterprise. The top twenty-odd floors were leased out to smaller companies and public departments. The fiftieth floor was home to the leadership of Wayne Enterprises. The floor consisted of a large board room; the CEO’s of Wayne Enterprises, Lucius Fox, office, and the owner of Wayne Enterprises, Bruce Wayne. Technically, I was the secretary for the entire floor but Bruce Wayne took up the majority of my time. Board meetings did not happen that often and Lucius Fox was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Not to say that I didn’t like my boss, Bruce Wayne. He was, after all, the one who had initially offered me a job and we had developed a sort of friendship of the years. He just always seemed a bit preoccupied witj something else.
I took my seat behind the large oak desk. Before doing anything else, I went about organizing the small mess of papers which were left over from the day before. I wasn’t the most organized person in the world, so I used any extra time in the day to straighten the mess which had accumulated.
A lot of things had changed in the past three years. The most noticeable was probably my appearance. My hair, which was once disheveled and unevenly colored, was now trim to just above my chin and I had even overcome my obsession with dyeing my hair. My clothes were no longer raggedy or dirty. I had my own house. I had my own bed to sleep in. I paid taxes. Even my attitude had changed slightly. My pessimism had been replaced with light-hearted sarcasm which I had learned to control. But the biggest difference was that I was no longer stealing things for the mob. I was no longer a criminal.
After a few hours, I finished my current pile of work before leaving my desk. Prior to my trip to the elevator, I walked down the short hallway to Bruce Wayne’s office. I door was already open, so I knock quietly on the door frame to get Bruce’s attention, who had his back to the door, looking out the window reading a stack of papers. He turned his chair around to face the visitor. “Hello, Marie.” He said. Bruce gave me a small smile while briefly looking up from the paper.
“I’m headed to lunch. You want anything?” This was practically a routine. I asked the same thing every day even though I always received the same answer.
But today wasn’t routine. Bruce didn’t give me his usual answer of ‘no, thank you’. “Actually, I think I might join you.” I stood in the doorway, confused, as Bruce Wayne put down the papers and got up from his desk. Together we walked to the elevator. “Is your air conditioner still broken?” Bruce asked as we stepped into the elevator. I knew he was secretly making fun of me.
“Unfortunately. Is it that obvious?” I was beginning to wonder if my lack of decent sleep was having an effect on attitude.
“Well, you are a bit more hostile in the morning than usual.” He said with a sympathetic laugh. “My offer still stands, by the way.”
“And my answer is still, currently, no. But another day in this heat, I might have to accept that offer. It would be nice it get a decent night’s sleep, even if it is in Wayne Manor.” Ever since I told Bruce about my lack of cold air, he’s offered me one of the many guest rooms in his newly re-built mansion. I wasn’t sure why I kept denying him. We had already overstepped the boss/employee line. We continued on our way out of Wayne Tower and walked down the street. I was still confused as to why Bruce wanted to have lunch with. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t like the explanation.
Ill rested; I got up and took a cold shower. I quietly endured the agony as I blow-dried my dim red hair, which I had inherited from my father. Again, I had trouble finding clothes that were suitable for work, but not too oppressive in the heat. In the end, I settled on a black pencil skirt and a light blue silk blouse. When I looked in the mirror, I consciously avoided looking at my right arm and the ugly scar. I grabbed my purse and keys and stepped into a pair of heels before leaving my already sweltering apartment.
Outside wasn’t much better. Normally, I walked to work but the past week I took the bus due to the extreme heat. Wayne Tower was easy enough to get to since it was practically in the center of Gotham City. Built in 1938, the limestone building was seventy-eight stories tall and that doesn’t count its seemingly bottomless basements. I had never been down to the sub-levels of Wayne Towers, but my boss frequently felt the need to recite numerous horror stories of people being lost forever in the labyrinth of dark rooms. If you believe the stories, then there are about a hundred bodies rotting beneath the main lobby.
I passed though the main doors and stopped a moment to appreciate the air conditioning before continuing to the elevator. I had been working at Wayne Enterprises for almost three years now. The job offer came at an unusual time and at an unusual setting. When the elevator doors dinged open, I was joined by ten other people in suits. I filed in and pressed the button marked 50. The elevator was almost empty when it stopped on the fiftieth floor and I was the only one to step out. When I first began working at Wayne Tower, I worked on the tenth floor as an assistant’s assistant. Basically, I stapled and sorted papers and fetched coffee. I got a few small promotions; each time I was moved up a few floors. About two years ago, I got a really big promotion, which put me on the fiftieth floor.
Even though it wasn’t the top floor of Wayne Tower, it was the top floor of Wayne Enterprise. The top twenty-odd floors were leased out to smaller companies and public departments. The fiftieth floor was home to the leadership of Wayne Enterprises. The floor consisted of a large board room; the CEO’s of Wayne Enterprises, Lucius Fox, office, and the owner of Wayne Enterprises, Bruce Wayne. Technically, I was the secretary for the entire floor but Bruce Wayne took up the majority of my time. Board meetings did not happen that often and Lucius Fox was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Not to say that I didn’t like my boss, Bruce Wayne. He was, after all, the one who had initially offered me a job and we had developed a sort of friendship of the years. He just always seemed a bit preoccupied witj something else.
I took my seat behind the large oak desk. Before doing anything else, I went about organizing the small mess of papers which were left over from the day before. I wasn’t the most organized person in the world, so I used any extra time in the day to straighten the mess which had accumulated.
A lot of things had changed in the past three years. The most noticeable was probably my appearance. My hair, which was once disheveled and unevenly colored, was now trim to just above my chin and I had even overcome my obsession with dyeing my hair. My clothes were no longer raggedy or dirty. I had my own house. I had my own bed to sleep in. I paid taxes. Even my attitude had changed slightly. My pessimism had been replaced with light-hearted sarcasm which I had learned to control. But the biggest difference was that I was no longer stealing things for the mob. I was no longer a criminal.
After a few hours, I finished my current pile of work before leaving my desk. Prior to my trip to the elevator, I walked down the short hallway to Bruce Wayne’s office. I door was already open, so I knock quietly on the door frame to get Bruce’s attention, who had his back to the door, looking out the window reading a stack of papers. He turned his chair around to face the visitor. “Hello, Marie.” He said. Bruce gave me a small smile while briefly looking up from the paper.
“I’m headed to lunch. You want anything?” This was practically a routine. I asked the same thing every day even though I always received the same answer.
But today wasn’t routine. Bruce didn’t give me his usual answer of ‘no, thank you’. “Actually, I think I might join you.” I stood in the doorway, confused, as Bruce Wayne put down the papers and got up from his desk. Together we walked to the elevator. “Is your air conditioner still broken?” Bruce asked as we stepped into the elevator. I knew he was secretly making fun of me.
“Unfortunately. Is it that obvious?” I was beginning to wonder if my lack of decent sleep was having an effect on attitude.
“Well, you are a bit more hostile in the morning than usual.” He said with a sympathetic laugh. “My offer still stands, by the way.”
“And my answer is still, currently, no. But another day in this heat, I might have to accept that offer. It would be nice it get a decent night’s sleep, even if it is in Wayne Manor.” Ever since I told Bruce about my lack of cold air, he’s offered me one of the many guest rooms in his newly re-built mansion. I wasn’t sure why I kept denying him. We had already overstepped the boss/employee line. We continued on our way out of Wayne Tower and walked down the street. I was still confused as to why Bruce wanted to have lunch with. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t like the explanation.