Sons of Gotham

Almost twenty minutes late, Allison and I finally enter the hotel’s ballroom. Showing our tickets we slip by the bouncer and are instantly greeted with some champagne and strawberries.

“Fancy,” Allison notes before stealing a slider off another tray. “Mr. Wayne left no detail unturned. He really thought of everything.”

“It’s his way of paying back to the hardworking men and women of the police department.” I tell her as we manage to snag a standing table to the far right of the ballroom. “He’s really generous apparently.”

Allison just rolls her eyes and a smirk appears on her lips, “damn Annie; why didn’t you tell me you work with such gorgeous gentlemen?” I watch as her eyes dart from one officer to another. Most of the men she lingers on are visibly there with their wives.

“They’re married, Al.” I tell her, she looks at me; her smirk growing,

“That hasn’t stopped me before has it?” She chuckles as I roll my eyes.

“Leave me out of it this time, okay?” I ask before walking away and into the crowd

I walk through the Gala and notice the various masks people are wearing. They range from very expensive and detailed to plain and lacy. Everyone had a mask on; all but four people. All four of these people are standing together, watching over the policemen dancing and laughing with their spouses.

Bruce Wayne stands in front with his graying hair and ominous, yet warm, vibe. Second to his left is a little kid, maybe 16. He is all dark hair and skin. He has an attitude problem that’s hidden in his eyes and posture. Second to Bruce’s right standing another boy; a bit younger than myself. His eyes tell me he’s always thinking; always planning. He’s watching the room much like a detective would.

But the person that is surprising me the most, standing close to the three other men, is Dick Grayson. He’s smiling, watching his fellow officers enjoying themselves. And that smile only widens when he sees me watching him. He excuses himself from the three other men and walks over to me. I can’t help but to feel under a microscope as Bruce Wayne watches me.

“Nice mask,” he smiles as he comes closer. Subconsciously, I put a hand to my black and gold cat mask.

“You’re not wearing one.”

“I believe masks hide things; bad things.” He states with a shrug. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“Whatever you say Boy Scout,” I laugh, “everyone has something to hide.”

“Do you?” He asks, pointing to my mask. “Are you hiding something under that mask of yours?”

“Everyone has something to hide,” I repeat myself, smirking. “Especially people like you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Today at work,” I start. “When the news bulletin came across the TVs about Red Hood and his merry gang of outlaws, you had a look. A look I’ve seen one too many times.”

“And what look is this?” He gives me questioning looks as he crosses his arms across his chest.

“The look of disappointment.” I reply. “You know Red Hood personally and when you saw him across the screens, you were disappointed in his choice of violence.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He chuckles. It’s a nervous chuckle. “How about you stop profiling me for the night and enjoy yourself? How about you dance with me?” The song slows as Dick offers me a hand. “It’s not going to kill you to enjoy yourself for one night, Novack.”

“Whatever you say Grayson.” I smile as I take his hand and allow him to guide me out onto the dancefloor.

**

“Hey, I’m going to go outside and get some fresh air.” I inform Allison.

“Okay Annie.” She says not breaking her attention from that clearly married narcotics agent that’s been flirting with her all night. I just roll my eyes before walking away. I need to get out of this ballroom and fast. I’m becoming claustrophobic with all those people around.

As soon as I get outside, I fill my lungs with the very polluted Gotham City air. The coolness of the night dances on my arms leaving goosebumps in its wake. Out here I’m alone. I’m not being bombarded with questions from fellow GCPD employees and socialites. I can finally be able to breathe.

“A girl like you shouldn’t be alone in a city like this.” A voice behind me states. Slowly, I turn around and see a man leaning up against the brick wall. His tuxedo tells me he was a guest but the cigarette in his mouth, messy hair and loosened tie tells me he didn’t want to be here.

“I’m a big girl, I can handle myself.” I inform him. “I didn’t move Gotham without making sure I could handle whatever the city streets threw my way.”

The man chuckles before throwing his cigarette away, “no amount of training can prepare you for the streets of Gotham. Trust me on this one, doll face.”

“Who do you think you are?” I ask, crossing my arms across my chest as my anger rises. I’m not sure what makes me more angry; him calling me doll face or him undermining my ability.

“I’m Jason,” he smirks. “And trust me, you aren’t prepared. Take it from someone that grew up here and lived on the streets. You’ll never be prepared for this city. We don’t have your average criminals here.”

“I did my research before moving here,” I inform him.

“And you still moved?” A humorless chuckle escapes his lips. “You’re lucky you’re pretty because you aren’t that bright. No one in their right mind would move to Gotham. I just hope that you aren’t going to be Gotham’s next victim. You’re too pretty to be thrown in the gutter.”

Before I can say anything he walks away, disappearing into the night. Just as I’m about to turn to go back in, Dick storms through the door. He looks shocked to see me back here, as if he was expecting someone else.

“Annie, what are you doing back here?”

“Looking for someone else?” I question.

He just sighs and shakes his head. "I guess not. Come on, let’s get you back inside. It’s too dangerous out there for a girl to be by themselves.”

“I’ve been getting that a lot tonight.” I mutter before allow Dick to guide me back inside.