Siren's Song

I walked easily through the worse part of Gotham, where we stayed. The good guys that happened to be patrolling didn’t know I was “bad”, so they left me be, occasionally warning me that this was a dangerous place to be in. The bad guys, well, they knew to let me be. They knew the company I kept…

The good part of Gotham was harder to get through, just because of all the people. It was strange, really, to see people going about their everyday lives. I wouldn’t tell anyone, but it made me sad, sometimes, to think that I used to be just like them, and would never be again.

Walking through the busy streets, I passed a newsstand. It wouldn’t have bothered me, or even caught my eye, were it not for the picture on the front page.

Batman.

The very thought of the “Caped Crusader” infuriated me, but for different reasons than you’d think. He had never bested me, no, never even had the chance, because I was never allowed to confront him. Daddy insisted that he wouldn’t have me dealing with Batman. Saying it was because he wanted to deal with him himself. What he didn’t need to say, though, was that he just didn’t want me to get hurt. He didn’t have to say it. I knew, and he knew, and no one else really mattered.

Still, I didn’t have to be happy about it.

Anything regarding the Batman was kept from me. I thought that was stupid. What if I came up against him by accident? Wouldn’t it help to know something? I had used these arguments before, but they never did me any good. Daddy just shouted and said that Batman was none of my business.

It really bugged me.

So caught up was I in these thoughts, that I’d stopped paying attention to where I was walking. As a result, I walked straight into someone else as they turned around. We both wound up on the ground. Well, I should say, he wound up on the ground, and I wound up on him.

Looking into the dark eyes of the man I’d knocked down, my breath caught for a moment. Then I realized myself, and quickly scrambled back to my feet, only to get back on my knees when I realized that I had knocked all of his papers from his hand.

“I am… so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” As I grabbed the last paper, he was already standing, and reached down to help me up. I put my hand in his and let him help me to my feet, silent for a moment.

“Oh! And, um, these are yours,” I said, embarrassed, handing him the papers, “and like I said, I’m really, really sorry.” I stopped when he gave a light laugh.

“It’s fine. Really. Don’t worry about it.” I gave a small smile, and he held out his hand. “I’m Bruce.”

“Isabelle, and it’s pleasure,” I replied, putting my hand gently in his to shake, right before realization hit. “Oh. Wow. You’re Bruce Wayne!”

“Yes, I know.” He seemed amused, and I decided I’d let it slide.

“Well, of course you know! But I didn’t! Oh, I feel like such a klutz. I just knocked over the most important man in Gotham!” He shook his head, still amused.

“Really, it’s not a big deal.”

“Well, you say that, but I still feel silly.”

“Don’t.” We both smiled, and I looked away.

‘What’s with me? Why do I even care? I’m the Siren for crying out loud!’ That train of thought vanished as he spoke again.

“So, Isabelle, I feel like I owe you coffee or something.”

“What? Why do you owe me anything?” He had a smirk on his lips.

“Well, if I hadn’t been there, you wouldn’t have wound up on the ground, and you wouldn’t have called yourself a klutz.” I smiled.

“Bruce?”

“Yes?”

“If you want to buy me coffee, you can just say so.”

“Okay then. I want to buy you coffee,” he said, with a small smile of his own.

“Then lead the way!” I replied, laughing a little.

I could visit Ivy any day.