Archive of Our Own

Prologue

Amelia has been Bruce Wayne's secretary for a sum of two weeks. She still doesn't understand what all the fuss was about, why her friends were concerned rather than happy for her. Despite the admittedly alarming turnover rate and the crazed rumors, the job was surprisingly…normal. She has worked for a number of CEOs before, enough so that she was a hard woman to surprise and knew just how to keep up with any potential foolishness. Why should this billionaire be any different? About a week later, she found out (or at least she thought she did).

It turns out the infamous playboy was more of a mystery than the papers made him out to be. He constantly canceled appointments last minute and never provided a solid excuse as to why, at least not one that he was willing to share with her. Thankfully, covering was one of her job skills as well as keeping the people he canceled on from losing their cool at being ditched (lots of gift baskets were involved, aka the duct tape of the secretary world). She knew the man had a reputation for being a tad unreliable, a flaw that most were willing to overlook because of his charm and money, but this was absurd.

Then there were the injuries, which he also refused to explain. He could arrive at the office looking half-dead and covered head to toe in cuts and bruises. She looked into all of his public relationships, just to make sure that wasn't the explanation (the man might be a pain in her ass at times but like hell was she going to ignore domestic abuse) but she came up with nothing. Eventually, she chalked it up to him being kidnapped (yet again) and deciding to not report it in order to get out of the paperwork. The number of times he has been abducted is seriously ridiculous.

Bruce, however, did stick out for being the only employer who was actually grateful for all of her hard work. That alone was enough to get her to stick around, not to mention her pay. The only part of her employer's life that she was not privy to was his family, with the exception of Alfred. Outside of adjusting his schedule so he could spend time with them, she has had zero contact with them (almost like a certain someone is keeping them away from her). Little did she know, that would soon change.

* * * TIM * * *

Everyone who knew anything about Wayne Enterprises knew that Tim was the future heir to the company, though Mr. Wayne has yet to officially announce it. Amelia suspects he was going to put it off until the boy turned eighteen. He seemed to be the only one in their constantly growing family with an interest in the business. While some may doubt the teen could run a billion-dollar enterprise, she knew that he was going to do just fine. He was the first Wayne child she has laid eyes on, although it was only in passing. 

Tim had his own office on a different floor than his adoptive (she assumes, it's hard to keep track who is official and who is not) father's, something she suspected was on purpose, so he could have some independence. There was not much opportunity for them to be around each other long enough to warrant conversation. That changed this very morning, he walked right past her and into Mr. Wayne's office without a word. She didn't think much of it, surely his father wouldn't mind even if he didn't have prior knowledge of him being there.

Amelia made a mental note to inform Mr. Wayne about his son's presence after he came back from dinner with some particularly crucial business partners (she made sure that he actually showed up this time by reinstating how key their funding is to some of his charities). She almost forgot he was in there after a couple of hours passed by thanks to her own workload. It was only when everyone started to head home she decided to check up on him to make sure he was okay. She cracked open the door, careful not to disturb him, and saw that he was fast asleep at Mr. Wayne's desk.

After overcoming how utterly adorable he was sleeping, she stepped back out. It was likely that his father wouldn't be here for a couple of more hours, so she decided that she should call him now instead of when he returned.

"Hello, Mr. Wayne, I hope I am not interrupting. I thought you should know that Tim is asleep in your office."

"My office?"

"Yes. What would you like me to do with him?"

"Let him sleep, please. He needs the rest. I'm already wrapping things up here and should be on my way soon.

"As you wish. I guess I'll see you when you arrive."

"You don't have to stay. It's late. I'll be there within the hour, and I would hate to keep you here too long."

"It's no trouble, Mr. Wayne. I have a few things I need to finish up anyway."

That wasn't exactly true. Sure, she has things that are important and need done, but they could wait until morning if she really wanted to leave. Unfortunately, it wouldn't feel right for her to leave a minor utterly alone at night in Gotham.

"Please call me Bruce. No need to be so formal, not when you're doing me a favor."

"Okay, Bruce , I will see you soon," she said, smiling when she used his first name.

None of her former employers would dream of letting their secretaries use their first names, so this was a rare first for her. The phone call ended. She walked back into the office and dug out the secret stash of pillows and blankets (something she put together for Bruce after the third time she caught him napping in his office at the very same desk) that was hidden behind one of his ludicrously expressive chairs that no one ever sat in.

Amelia saw no harm in making him a little more comfortable while they waited, he poor thing looked exhausted even when he was sleeping. Tim's coffee addiction is well known to all the staff in the building, he practically mainlined caffeine. She put the blanket over him and gently lifted his head to put the pillow under, careful not to wake him. Then she went back to her desk (watching him sleep would be kind of creepy) but she kept the door open just in case. 

Mr. Wayne arrived forty-five minutes later, which is impressive considering the horrendous traffic at this time of night.

"Thank you."

"Have a nice night, Mr. Wa-Bruce," she slipped but quickly corrected herself.

"You as well, Amelia," he smiled, who thankfully did not point out her mistake.

She caught a glimpse of him trying (and failing) to wake him up. He ultimately accepted defeat and picked him up before carrying him out, whispering that they were going home now. The image reminded her of a baby koala with how he somehow unconsciously wrapped himself around his father. It made her smile to see him be so paternal. Amelia knew better than to believe everything the papers said, but until now it had been hard for her to picture him as a caring father. She wondered what he was like around his other children.

Unknown to Amelia, Tim woke up the second she entered the room. Training outweighed sleep deprivation in this case. He pretended to be asleep while she put a blanket over him and a pillow under his head out of politeness. Where it came from, he still has no idea. The kindness was much appreciated, even more so when she watched over him from her desk until Bruce arrived. Tim later told him that he "liked this one."

* * * DAMIAN * * *

Amelia met the youngest Wayne boy one afternoon after he was dropped off from school. Usually, Alfred would take him home after school but his father had plans with him that evening. However, Mr. Wayne had paperwork to complete first. She was half watching over him as he waited and half working on her own paperwork. He was passing the time working on what she assumes is his homework, sitting in one of the plush leather chairs that she ordered for the waiting area. It was one of her better strategic purchases after she learned about Mr. Wayne's scheduling habits.

The resemblance between father and son is more obvious now that she has seen him in person. When they set their mind to something, their faces made the same harsh focused expression. They also made the same look of annoyance when they were doing something they found tedious, such as homework. It was difficult to keep a straight face when she picked up on these things, but she was lucky to have plenty of practice and managed to stay professional. The next time she looked at him, she noticed frustration was another expression they shared.

Damian was staring daggers at the papers in front of them like he would rather chop them into tiny pieces than continue writing. After waiting for a few minutes to see if his mood improved (hint: it didn't) she walked over to him.

"Is there anything I can help you with, Damian?"

He shifts his attention from the assignment to her, seemingly ready to politely refuse her offer before thinking better of it and silently nodded. She glanced down at the papers to deduce the subject matter, it was some kind of advanced mathematics, calculus maybe. It was fortunate that she has plenty of experience with private school coursework. Even though being a tutor wasn't exactly in her job description, it was an unspoken part of her job. A lot of her past employers had children who would need help, but their parents would be too caught up in work.

Damian did not seem the type of boy who wanted her to do it for him, so they went step by step through each problem together. He was a sponge for knowledge, quickly mastering each portion of the equations. It barely took them forty-five minutes before the homework was finished.

"Thank you for helping me, Ms. Thorne."

"You are welcome, Damian. And you may call me Amelia."

He smiled softly and went back to the remainder of his studies. She returned to her desk without another word. It was not long before she received a message on her computer from Mr. Wayne.

"Your father will be out soon. He said you should gather your things and prepare to leave."

His gaze lowered to the floor, "Are you going to tell him about…helping me?"

He was so quiet when he asked her that she couldn't help but melt. Clearly, he was embarrassed and did not want his father to know that he was not able to finish his work by himself.

"There is nothing shameful about needing help from time to time, even your father does, but I see no reason why your father would need to know. It can be our little secret."

Before he could respond or express his gratitude, Mr. Wayne walked out of his office. Damian quickly gathered his things and was ready to leave only moments after.

"Are you ready? Alfred is waiting outside for us in the car."

"Yes, father."

"Very well. Have a pleasant evening, Amelia. I' will see you tomorrow morning."

"You too, Mr. Wayne. Damian."

A knowing smile flashed across the boy's face before he followed his father down the hall to the elevator. Oh, god, these kids were going to worm their way right into her heart.

Bruce eventually figured out what happened anyway, although he was not told directly. He overheard Damian telling his cat, Pennyworth. It was clear that Amelia had an…interesting effect on people. He decided not to mention that he knew to either one of them, allowing them to keep their secret. Regardless, he did have to draw the line when Damian tried to bring Pennyworth with him into the building to introduce them to each other. 

* * * KATE * * *

Amelia left the comforts of her desk to go out for a coffee run. Mr. Wayne does own a personal high-quality and very expensive coffee maker, but he also liked variety every once in a while. Ever since an unnamed individual (cough cough, Tim) introduced him to Starbucks, he has been  obsessed  with their "secret" menu. She didn't mind, it was part of her job and he always suggested that she get something for herself as well. One cake batter frappuccino and caramel snickerdoodle macchiato later (I'm going to let you guess whose is whose), she was back in the building.

She did not make it past the lobby before coming across a commotion at the front desk. Whenever she was not in the building, some of her duties were split up among other employees. For example, it was the person at the front desk's job to screen all the visitors that wanted to see Mr. Wayne. The man who was currently at the front desk was someone she didn't recognize, which meant he was new. Never a dull moment.

"Excuse me, is there a problem?" she butted in, smiling politely at the both of them.

"Yes. This woman is trying to see Mr. Wayne without an appointment and now lying about her identity. Please call for security, I would do so myself but I fear she will make a run for it."

It barely took her five seconds to recognize said woman from a photo on Mr. Wayne's desk. She had to resist the urge to facepalm at the stupidity of the man.

"I am not lying about anything! My name is Katherine Kane, I have shown you my ID and driver's license to prove so. I'm here to see my cousin, your boss because we have lunch plans which is why we're meeting in his office. Now let me through before I am even later than you have already made me."

The man scoffed, successfully digging himself into a deeper hole than he was currently in.

"Jonathon, right?" she asked the man, pointing at his name tag.

"Yes."

"Let her through. Ms. Kane is telling the truth, I assure you."

"What?"

She ignored him.

"Hello, I'm Amelia Thorne, Mr. Wayne's secretary. He has told me so much about you," she reached her free hand towards her."

"All good things I hope," she shook said hand.

"Very. It is lovely to finally meet you, though I hoped for better circumstances."

"Thank you."

"There is no way this woman is related to Bruce Wayne!"

It seems the shock has worn off, but he was still unable to grasp how worse he was making things for himself.

And why not?" she asked, genuinely curious why this man was committing career suicide.

He pointed at Kate's shirt. She had not looked at what she was wearing before, but now she could see a lesbian pride flag on the front with two female gender signs linked together on top.

"What's wrong with my shirt?" Kate growled, rightfully outraged.

"Absolutely nothing, Ms. Kane," she answered for him, desperate to keep the situation from escalating any further. The last thing they needed was the press to catch wind of Kate Kane taking a swing at one of her cousin's employees (hopefully former after all of this), even if he was a bigot and fully deserved it. "Would you mind taking this up with you? It's for Mr. Wayne and I have a feeling that by the time I'm finished down here, lunch will long be over."

"Wait a-" Jonathon tried protesting, but she shut that down quickly.

"Do not speak, you're in enough trouble as is. If this was not her cousin's company, she would likely sue us for blatant discrimination and harassment."

Kate smiled, "It is no trouble at all and I will keep in mind to inform Bruce why I am dropping it off," she accepted the coffee cup that was handed to her.

"Thank you, have a nice lunch." Amelia watched her step into the elevator before glaring at the man, "Now back to you. I think it would be best if you packed your things."

"You have no authority to fire me! I demand to-"

"You're correct, I do not have the authority to fire you. However, I can send you home for the day. Unfortunately, someone else will have the pleasure of terminating you from your position here. I believe that you will find that Wayne Enterprises has a strict policy against discrimination of any sort and breaking it is grounds for immediate termination."

"But-"

"I would hurry, you've got about five minutes before I call security to help you leave the premises."

She left him standing there, speechless, done with dealing with the man's ignorance. Whoever hired that buffoon needs to update their screening process. Soon after, she got a text from Mr. Wayne thanking her for helping Kate and promised to return with a double-chocolate cupcake for the trouble. She didn't care what other people say, they can get over themselves, Bruce Wayne is a fantastic boss.

Kate told Bruce everything that happened and teased him a little about his choice of coffee (he always took it black around them). That guy was definitely fired and blacklisted from every company the Wayne's ever owned, done business with, and donated to. She also, not so subtly, asked if Amelia was single.

* * * JASON * * *

Mr. Wayne insisted that she take the rest of the day off. He noticed the late nights she had been pulling and wanted to give her a break. Amelia was not going to argue with him on that, so she gathered her things and went to the elevator. There was already a man in there when the doors opened and he held it open until she entered.

"Thank you," she told him, met with a short nod in response.

She looked at the numbered buttons and noticed that they were already going to the lobby. They only made it a couple of floors down before the floor started shaking and the lights flashed. She was knocked off balance and tumbled to the other side of the elevator. Fortunately, the man caught her and steadied themselves by grabbing onto the handlebar.

"Are you okay?" he asked when everything finally stilled.

"Yeah. Thanks for the save."

"It was better than you taking out the both of us," he mused.

Amelia laughed, appreciating the moment of humor in an otherwise tense situation. She pressed one of the buttons, but it was no use. This elevator was not moving and they were not going anywhere until someone came to get them. She pressed the emergency button and waited for a reply.

"Hello, this is maintenance. What's the problem?"

"Something is wrong with the elevator. It started shaking, the lights were flashing, and now we seem to be stuck."

There was a short period of silence, which was not helping her nerves at the moment.

"Please stay calm and do not panic. We're on our way to you right now."

She took a deep breath and tried to stay optimistic. It was nothing major and they would be out of there soon. Amelia would hate to spend her day off stuck at work, in a broken elevator, with a stranger. Speak of the devil. She turned around to see how he was doing. It seemed that he was having just as grand of a time as she was, maybe worse by how tense he looked.

"It's probably just an electrical problem. They happen all the time. We'll be out in no time, Wayne Enterprises has the best engineers around," she tried to comfort him and a little bit herself."

"You're probably right," he told her with a smile, clearly forced.

They waited for the maintenance people to contact them again and hoped for good news.

"We found out the issue. It's nothing to worry about, but it will take time to fix. We'll try to get you out as soon as possible, so please stay calm."

She was half tempted to snap at him to stay calm but didn't want to take her stress out on the innocent worker. The sound of heavy breathing pulled her out of her cycle of self-pity. Shit. The stranger was now on the floor and was definitely having an anxiety attack. He probably had claustrophobia or something, and being told that he was stuck triggered the attack. The physical signs were obvious: sweating, shaking, and shortness of breath. Fuck. They still had at least an hour before anyone could get to him to help, so it was all on her for now. 

"Hey, you are having an anxiety attack. You need to slow your breathing down before you hyperventilate. Can you do that?" He nodded, unable to talk to her even if he wanted to. His breathing slowed after a couple of deep breaths. It is a good start. "My name is Amelia, by the way."

"Jason," she spat out, still breathing hard.

"Well, Jason. It shouldn't be too long before they fix the elevator, and then we can both get the hell out of here."

He chuckled, "Not a fan of enclosed spaces either?"

"Nope."

"Fair enough."

An idea popped into her head, suddenly remembering what she had in her bag.

"Want some Sour Patch Kids? A nurse friend of mine told me they help with anxiety attacks. The sour taste shocks the senses and distracts the body from panicking," she handed him the bag.

"Thanks," he took the bag and ripped it open.

She hated how the media always portrayed panic or anxiety attacks. They focused too much on only a few symptoms and glossed over the recovery. The feeling stays with you, sometimes for several hours. It didn't just go away when the crying and shaking stopped. The buttons lit up all at once, and the elevator started moving.

"Thank god," he mumbled.

When the doors parted, she saw that they ended up on the floor they were originally trying to go to. A small group of who she assumed were the maintenance people (she made a mental note to send them a gift basket to express her appreciation) and Mr. Wayne stood in front of them.

"Are you two okay?"

"I'm fine, Mr. Wayne. I will be using the stairs from now on, but fine. Thank you for asking."

"Jason?"

"I'm good, Bruce, but Tim can pick up his own textbook next time."

Amelia looked between them. Clearly, they knew each other very well. Now that she is no longer in panic mode, he did look oddly familiar…oh shit.

"You're Jason Todd."

"Yeah."

"Not to be rude, but aren't you dead?"

"It didn't take."

She couldn't help but laugh, "You know what, I'm not even going to ask. It's Gotham."

"That's probably for the best."

"All right, now that's all sorted. I'm going home. See you tomorrow, Mr. Wayne. It was nice meeting you, Jason. Keep the candy."

She walked out of the building.

Jason explained to Bruce what happened in the elevator. He wasn't quick to admit that he had an anxiety attack but did confess how happy he was that Amelia was there to help him through it. After chewing on some more of the Sour Patch Kids she gave him, he wished him luck with her promise to never take the elevator again. Bruce tried to steal one but Jason slapped his hand away, "Mine."

* * * BARBARA * * *

Amelia finally managed to convince Mr. Wayne to take the day off. At first, he refused because of the upcoming charity gala that he was throwing in a week, but she told him to let her put the final touches on the event. He may keep an irregular schedule, but he still managed to be a workaholic. This is true especially when it came to managing events for his charities, he had been driving himself into the ground to ensure everything goes smoothly. She knew that just because she shooed him out of the building would not be enough to stop him from finding something to do.

So, she decided to aid the process by calling Alfred to send someone in who would do just that. Barbra Gordon strolled out of the elevator (aka deathtrap) and up to her desk.

"Hi, Amelia. Is Bruce in his office?"

"No, he went downstairs. I thought you two were going to meet in the lobby?"

"We were, but I figured since the elevator is fixed I would catch him before he went down."

"Sorry, you just missed him. I could call him back up here if you would like. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"Oh, that will not be necessary. I'll just go back down and find him. Thanks anyway though."

"Anytime, Barbara. I think I might come down with you. I nearly forgot to give him this," she picked up a small gift basket sent to him by a local animal shelter to which he made a substantial donation in his youngest son's name.

Her vow to never use the elevator had not lasted too long, she moved around the building too much. Although, she did have an endless amount of diagnostic tests run before she dared set foot in there. They were swiftly taken down to the lobby and went looking for him. For someone who had his face plastered on every newspaper and built like Superman, he was a particularly hard man to pick out of a crowd. By the way he waved her way through people and straight to where Mr. Wayne was, she would have been led to believe that she had him chipped. 

It would not be entirely out of the question with her skill set. She did have a knack for technology, specifically computers, one reason why she could be found on occasion tinkering with their security systems. That was how they first met, bumping into each other in the halls while coming down the hallways.

"Bruce, over here!" Barbara waved him over from where he was, unable to get through the desks and tables.

He quickly dropped whatever he was doing and went over to them.

"Barb, there you are. I thought-"

"Yeah, there was a slight change in plans. It doesn't matter now, though. Are you ready to go, Damian, waiting in the car for us?"

"Right, the zoo. Yes, I'm ready."

"Mr. Wayne. One more thing before you go," she handed him the basket.

"Thank you, Amelia. Please send a thank you card back."

"Right away, Mr. Wayne. Have a good time at the zoo, and please say hello to Damian for me."

"Will do."

None of them saw the camera until it was too late. The little bitch waited until Mr. Wayne put his hand on Barbara's back, instinctively reaching out when someone almost bumped into her wheelchair. They all turned to see the origin of the bright flash and saw a bleach blonde pointing her phone at them. Paparazzi? Great. The woman was lucky that they were too confused about what had just happened. Otherwise, one of them would have thought about calling over security.

"Bruce Wayne and his most recent conquest, I presume. Not your usual…caliber of a woman, but I guess she's cute."

On second thought, security was going to need to hold Amelia back from slapping the cakey foundation off the woman. How dare she insult them like that?  The nerve . She was much more than one of Mr. Wayne's flings, it was uncalled for not to mention disgusting. They had a relationship similar to a father and daughter for as long as she has known them. Barbara had even dated his son for a while (they are just good friends now, but still )! The very idea of them together like that made her nauseous. 

They looked as equally disgusted by her comment as she was but didn't say a word. She could hardly blame them. Anything said would only be contorted and used against them in whatever media outlet she worked for. Her boss' name, no matter the story, always sold (even if it was complete bullshit). However, none of that applied to a "nameless" employee.

"Excuse me, don't you dare speak of her like that you empty-headed blogger bimbo. She is no lesser of a woman just because she doesn't wear plaster enough makeup on her face to pass for the Joker or have enough padding in her bra to stuff a mattress like you so obviously  do. Security will be escorting you out and confiscating your phone shortly. You can pick it up  after  those photos are deleted.

"You can't touch my phone! It's my personal property, and I have the right to use it however I please."

"Not in this building you don't. Did you bother to read any of the signs in here?" she asked, pointing at one of the many hanging on the walls.

It clearly read that photos and/or videos are not allowed inside the building. They put them up after someone broke in to take a picture of one of Mr. Wayne's kids. Putting one's ass on the line for a photo is far less tempting when you don't get to keep it. Barbara was actually the one who suggested it.

"I-uh…"

"Feel free to resist. I would love an excuse to call the police and let them handle this instead." Security finally came and dragged the woman away. Amelia took a moment to collect herself. It has been a while since she had an outburst so publicly. "So sorry about that, Mr. Wayne. That was more than a tad unprofessional of me."

"But well justified."

She smiled, grateful that he understood, and looked to Barba, "Are you alright? I know you can handle yourself but I could not help but snap."

"It's okay, thank you."

"Well then, you two have fun at the zoo. I'm going to get back to work."

Amelia walked off to do just that, ignoring all the eyes on her.

Bruce and Barbara had been equally shocked by her outburst. The "blogger bimbo" as Amelia so elegantly put it, did not retaliate against them for kicking her out and/or deleting her photos, not that she had a leg to stand on anyway. Barbara is delighted to have it all on video as when she told everyone at the manor about it, they all demanded proof. Who knew someone so seemingly sweet could snap like that? 

* * * DICK * * *

Amelia was invited to the same charity gala that she helped prepare, per Mr. Wayne's request. She has apparently grown on the billionaire after working for him this past year. It is a nice party, as they always were. The trouble is, she knew no one there and had no one to talk to. Sure, she has interacted with her fair share of socialites before but always in a business setting. Most of these parties were boasting about how successful and interesting they are, something she had no interest in or had much to contribute to. 

To be frank, no one wanted to talk to the host's secretary, and she did not care to speak to them either. Any attention she got from the guest around her was unwanted. A few older and sleazy men noticed her lack of companionship and tried to make their move. She turned each one down as politely and swiftly as possible, but it was increasingly getting on her nerves. One particular bachelor would not take the hint and followed her wherever she went. Things were turning from annoying to creepy, soon followed by frightening. 

He was getting more confident the more she tried to shake him. She tried to lose him in the crowd, maybe find an exit, and barely managed to evade him. Then, while her back was turned, she was pulled aside by a stranger.

"Ms. Thorne," he held her close, making it look like they were dancing together.

Well, this is unexpected. Dick Grayson, Mr. Wayne's eldest son. He usually didn't make an appearance at these things anymore, not since he moved away from Gotham to Bludhaven. Amelia knew that the relationship between father and son was thin after they had some kind of disagreement a couple of years ago, no one knew about what outside of the family. She never asked either, not wanting to dig into her boss' personal life. Although, there was talk that they had recently patched things up. That would explain his current attendance.

"Mr. Grayson," she looked over her shoulder and saw that her stalker was finally backing off. "My hero."

"It's the least I could do after all you have done for my family."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"I've heard some interesting stories since I came back home. You seem to be the common denominator."

"Just doing my job."

"You've done much more than your job. I know my family can sometimes be…difficult."

"It's been a pleasure, really. Your father is a good man."

The song ended.

"Enjoy the rest of your evening, Amelia. If you run into any more trouble, you need to only ask for me. I'll be around."

"I will keep that in mind. Goodbye, Mr. Grayson."

The party became much more bearable after that. No more undesirables tried to hit on her for the rest of the night, and she felt free to enjoy herself. She chatted with a few of the other Wayne children that came her way. Tim hung out with her for a bit to get out of speaking with a group of politicians without offending them. Jason kept to himself in the corner of the room, eating hors d'oeuvres offered by the waiters. She talked to Damian as he fed his pet cat (who was dressed in a custom-made suit, of course), Pennyworth, some cocktail shrimp. 

Mr. Wayne caught her just before she left, giving her his best wishes and a quick farewell. Amelia's job could be burdensome at times, but they made it worth it.

Bruce had been confused why he couldn't find his kids anywhere. They usually stayed close by to help him slip away if he was ever stuck. Finally, he caught up with them when Damian tried to trick one of the waiters into giving him a glass of champagne. Dick told him about his talk with her and gave him the name of the man who was making her uncomfortable. The man had been a nuisance at his events for a while now, and he had been itching for an excuse to get rid of him. Throwing him out of the party was the highlight of his night.