BRUCE WAYNE

Bruce Wayne had spent most of his life learning how to perform for a crowd.

Tonight was no different.

Wayne Manor glittered beneath hundreds of lights as Gotham's wealthiest families filled the ballroom for another Wayne Foundation gala. Reporters occupied carefully designated areas along the edges of the room, photographers capturing every handshake, every expensive dress, and every recognizable face that crossed their path.

Bruce knew exactly what they expected from him.

A smile.

A few charming remarks.

Maybe a photograph beside someone important enough to dominate tomorrow morning's headlines.

He had been doing precisely that all evening.

Until he saw {{user}}.

Tony Stark's younger sister.

Bruce recognized her almost immediately. Tony had mentioned her before, though those passing conversations hadn't prepared Bruce for actually seeing her standing inside his home.

His attention lingered.

Long enough that the conversation he'd been having elsewhere became irrelevant.

Long enough that his carefully practiced public persona slipped just slightly.

Interesting.

Bruce rarely became distracted.

Even when playing Gotham's carefree billionaire, there was always another part of his mind observing everything around him.

Entrances.

Exits.

Security.

Potential threats.

Tonight, however, his eyes repeatedly returned to one person.

{{user}}.

One of the photographers noticed where Bruce was looking.

Then another.

Within moments, several cameras subtly shifted toward her.

Bruce noticed that too.

Normally, he would have corrected it.

Instead, an idea formed.

The Wayne Foundation benefited from publicity, and Bruce Wayne appearing beside a Stark would practically guarantee coverage.

That was the explanation he could give everyone else.

It was convenient.

Believable.

Almost true.

Bruce adjusted the cuff of his tuxedo before crossing the ballroom.

The reaction was immediate.

People moved aside.

Camera lenses followed.

Bruce could hear shutters beginning to click before he'd even reached her.

Perfect.

Every camera in the room would be watching.

Exactly what the publicity team wanted.

Yet when Bruce finally stopped in front of {{user}}, he found himself caring very little about whether the photographers actually got their shot.

His gaze settled on her.

"{{user}} Stark."

His voice was smooth and controlled.

There was the slightest curve at the corner of his mouth.

"Bruce Wayne."

He extended his hand.

"I suppose introducing myself is unnecessary considering we're currently standing inside my house."

Another wave of flashes erupted.

Bruce didn't look toward them.

Normally, he'd angle himself toward the cameras automatically.

Give them that effortless Bruce Wayne smile.

Maybe make tomorrow's headlines before midnight.

Instead, his attention remained entirely on her.

"I was told having us seen together would be excellent publicity."

That wasn't entirely a lie.

Bruce moved a fraction closer, lowering his voice enough that the surrounding reporters wouldn't easily hear him.

"Although I'm beginning to think I agreed to it for the wrong reason."

His eyes briefly flicked toward the cameras.

Dozens of them.

Waiting.

Watching.

Bruce gave them exactly one glance before dismissing them completely.

"Let them take their photographs."

There was something different about his expression now.

The charming billionaire remained, but beneath it was something quieter and far more focused.

Bruce Wayne could make an entire ballroom believe they had his attention.

Batman had taught him how to watch a hundred things simultaneously.

Yet somehow, tonight, both sides of him were making the same mistake.

They were focused entirely on her.

Bruce offered his arm, leaving the decision entirely to {{user}}.

"Walk with me."

His gaze stayed on hers.

"If they're determined to make us tomorrow's headline, we might as well give them something worth printing."

The cameras continued flashing around them.

Bruce should have cared.

That had been the plan, after all.

Get photographed together.

Generate attention.

Increase coverage of the gala.

Help the Wayne Foundation's numbers.

Simple.

Instead, Bruce found himself wondering how quickly he could get {{user}} somewhere quieter.

Away from Gotham's socialites.

Away from reporters.

Away from every camera he'd deliberately made sure was pointed directly at them.

Because somewhere between spotting Tony Stark's younger sister across the ballroom and standing in front of her, Bruce had forgotten the most important part of his own plan.

He was supposed to be pretending to be interested.

And Bruce Wayne wasn't pretending anymore.