Gotham City, January 21, lunchtime
Just a day later and Bruce was doing the unthinkable: he was meeting a woman's father in hopes of impressing him. This had literally never happened before. Occasionally he'd known some girl's father from society parties or business, but it was never anything like this. He had never been nervous.
"Knock knock," Andrea said as she opened the door to her father's office and led Bruce in.
"Andi," Carl Beaumont said, looking up from the paperwork one of his lawyers was making him sign. "Well, this is a most pleasant interruption. At last, I meet the elusive Bruce Wayne."
Carl stood up to approach his daughter and Bruce as they fully entered the room. "Nice to meet you, sir," Bruce said, as politely as he could.
"Sir? Oh, don't be so formal, Bruce," Carl said. He held his hand out to shake. "Andrea's told me so much about you, I feel like we're practically family."
"Daddy," Andrea whined. Bruce was pretty sure she thought that would scare him off.
Bruce shook Carl's hand and took the opportunity to shift the subject slightly while the lawyer made a hasty retreat. "I hope we're not interrupting anything."
"Oh, not at all," Carl scoffed pleasantly as he led the couple over to his desk. Andrea sat on the desk and Carl indicated for Bruce to sit in a chair. Carl was just going to lean casually against the desk, apparently just to remind Bruce who the boss was here. "I'm never too busy for my Andi and her friends. I tell you, Bruce, I do a lot of financial planning. When it comes to money, you can't take the future for granted. But all the money in the world means little if you don't have loved ones to share it with. Nothing's more important than family."
Bruce chose to assume that Carl wasn't being a huge dick, stressing the importance of family to Gotham's most famous orphan. "Yes, Mr Beaumont," he said, pleasantly.
Carl's secretary interrupted suddenly, sounding ever so slightly concerned. "Excuse me sir," she said, "but there's a Mr Valestra here to see you. He says he has an appointment."
Carl's apprehension was immediately clear. "If Mr Valestra says he has an appointment, Virginia, then Mr Valestra has an appointment." Andrea looked surprised. Bruce, of course, knew the name. Salvatore Valestra. He was a brutal mob boss Bruce had kept an eye on for some time. This... was mildly troublesome, to say the least.
"That's what I like about your pop, kiddo," Valestra said. He walked into the office in an all-black suit and a white tie, capped off with a black fedora. His voice was as stereotypical for a mobster as his outfit. "He knows his priorities." Just to really seal the deal that he was a no-good cad, Valestra walked over to Carl's desk, grabbed a cigar, and immediately lit it.
"If you'll excuse us, Andi," Carl said quickly, trying to usher her and Bruce out. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Bruce. You'll have to join us for dinner soon."
*****
As Bruce and Andrea left her father and his office building, Bruce asked, "Is my shirt too big, or is that my flesh crawling?"
Andrea sighed as she led Bruce away from the building and out toward the street. "Well, Mr Valestra is not what you'd call a 'people person.'"
"No kidding," Bruce scoffed. She really didn't seem to understand exactly what kind of person Valestra was.
"C'mon, Bruce, that's just Daddy's business," Andrea said. "He deals with everyone."
"It's not your father, Andi, it's..." The kind of people he associated with, for one. The fact that she didn't seem concerned about it. Could he really be with someone who closed her eyes to crime so completely? "It's everything."
As they continued to make their way across a bridge, they saw a motorcycle gang roughing up a short, pudgy, middle-aged man holding a money box. Bruce recognized the man from charity events. One of the thugs was trying to wrestle the box away from the man and others were closing in.
"Stay here," Bruce said, letting go of Andrea's hand. He might not have been comfortable with the way things were in the boardroom, but right here and right now, he could do something. "I've got to stop this."
"Bruce, no! Don't!" Andrea said, grabbing his arm to keep him from running off.
"What do you expect me to do, just stand here?" Bruce asked. His determination in the moment was matched only by Andrea's concern.
In the moment, Andrea decided not to try to stop him. "Just come back to me in one piece. Please?"
Without a word, Bruce rushed off.
One of the motorcycle thugs pulled a blackjack out of his pocket and struck the man with it, knocking him out and making him drop money box to the ground. He didn't have a chance to collect the money, though, as he heard someone yell, "HEY!"
A second after yelling that to get the thug's attention, Bruce drove his shoulder into the thug's chest and speared him to the ground. Bruce was back up instantly, ducking a punch from another thug, and using the assailant's momentum to throw him over the side of the bridge and into the Gotham River.
The fight had barely started and the odds were already evening up. Only two thugs remained, but they were getting back to their bikes. "Hope you have your insurance paid up, sucker!" one of them yelled. He grabbed a length of chain while his remaining friend picked up a bat. They revved their bikes in anticipation.
Bruce settled into a defensive stance about thirty yards away, waiting to make his move. When the chain-wielding thug tore off toward him, Bruce took a short, measured run at the approaching bike, timed a leap to land one foot on the front of the bike, and sprang forward, nailing the thug with a punch aimed squarely at his nose. The motorcycle spun out as its rider was knocked off.
Bruce landed on his feet as the second biker rode toward him, his bat aimed at Bruce's ribs. Bruce would have been able to dodge it, but Andrea had wandered closer out of concern. She wasn't in danger, but she provided just enough of a distraction that he took the hit squarely. He could feel ribs crack as he was thrown to the ground.
The chain-wielding thug managed to get to his feet and grab the money box as his partner circled back around. With Bruce grimacing in the middle of the road, the thug hopped on the back of his partner's bike and they rode off, victorious.
Bruce's rage at his failure helped him to his feet as Andrea ran toward him. "Oh, thank God you're alright, I was so frightened!" she said, helping him up the rest of the way. She touched his face gently and said, "Come on, let me have a look at you."
"Andrea, please," Bruce growled, pulling her hand away from his face. Anger, confusion, and humiliation filling his head, Bruce stalked off. Andrea apparently thought better of following him for the moment.
Good. He needed to be alone. This incident had given him some things to think about.
"Knock knock," Andrea said as she opened the door to her father's office and led Bruce in.
"Andi," Carl Beaumont said, looking up from the paperwork one of his lawyers was making him sign. "Well, this is a most pleasant interruption. At last, I meet the elusive Bruce Wayne."
Carl stood up to approach his daughter and Bruce as they fully entered the room. "Nice to meet you, sir," Bruce said, as politely as he could.
"Sir? Oh, don't be so formal, Bruce," Carl said. He held his hand out to shake. "Andrea's told me so much about you, I feel like we're practically family."
"Daddy," Andrea whined. Bruce was pretty sure she thought that would scare him off.
Bruce shook Carl's hand and took the opportunity to shift the subject slightly while the lawyer made a hasty retreat. "I hope we're not interrupting anything."
"Oh, not at all," Carl scoffed pleasantly as he led the couple over to his desk. Andrea sat on the desk and Carl indicated for Bruce to sit in a chair. Carl was just going to lean casually against the desk, apparently just to remind Bruce who the boss was here. "I'm never too busy for my Andi and her friends. I tell you, Bruce, I do a lot of financial planning. When it comes to money, you can't take the future for granted. But all the money in the world means little if you don't have loved ones to share it with. Nothing's more important than family."
Bruce chose to assume that Carl wasn't being a huge dick, stressing the importance of family to Gotham's most famous orphan. "Yes, Mr Beaumont," he said, pleasantly.
Carl's secretary interrupted suddenly, sounding ever so slightly concerned. "Excuse me sir," she said, "but there's a Mr Valestra here to see you. He says he has an appointment."
Carl's apprehension was immediately clear. "If Mr Valestra says he has an appointment, Virginia, then Mr Valestra has an appointment." Andrea looked surprised. Bruce, of course, knew the name. Salvatore Valestra. He was a brutal mob boss Bruce had kept an eye on for some time. This... was mildly troublesome, to say the least.
"That's what I like about your pop, kiddo," Valestra said. He walked into the office in an all-black suit and a white tie, capped off with a black fedora. His voice was as stereotypical for a mobster as his outfit. "He knows his priorities." Just to really seal the deal that he was a no-good cad, Valestra walked over to Carl's desk, grabbed a cigar, and immediately lit it.
"If you'll excuse us, Andi," Carl said quickly, trying to usher her and Bruce out. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Bruce. You'll have to join us for dinner soon."
*****
As Bruce and Andrea left her father and his office building, Bruce asked, "Is my shirt too big, or is that my flesh crawling?"
Andrea sighed as she led Bruce away from the building and out toward the street. "Well, Mr Valestra is not what you'd call a 'people person.'"
"No kidding," Bruce scoffed. She really didn't seem to understand exactly what kind of person Valestra was.
"C'mon, Bruce, that's just Daddy's business," Andrea said. "He deals with everyone."
"It's not your father, Andi, it's..." The kind of people he associated with, for one. The fact that she didn't seem concerned about it. Could he really be with someone who closed her eyes to crime so completely? "It's everything."
As they continued to make their way across a bridge, they saw a motorcycle gang roughing up a short, pudgy, middle-aged man holding a money box. Bruce recognized the man from charity events. One of the thugs was trying to wrestle the box away from the man and others were closing in.
"Stay here," Bruce said, letting go of Andrea's hand. He might not have been comfortable with the way things were in the boardroom, but right here and right now, he could do something. "I've got to stop this."
"Bruce, no! Don't!" Andrea said, grabbing his arm to keep him from running off.
"What do you expect me to do, just stand here?" Bruce asked. His determination in the moment was matched only by Andrea's concern.
In the moment, Andrea decided not to try to stop him. "Just come back to me in one piece. Please?"
Without a word, Bruce rushed off.
One of the motorcycle thugs pulled a blackjack out of his pocket and struck the man with it, knocking him out and making him drop money box to the ground. He didn't have a chance to collect the money, though, as he heard someone yell, "HEY!"
A second after yelling that to get the thug's attention, Bruce drove his shoulder into the thug's chest and speared him to the ground. Bruce was back up instantly, ducking a punch from another thug, and using the assailant's momentum to throw him over the side of the bridge and into the Gotham River.
The fight had barely started and the odds were already evening up. Only two thugs remained, but they were getting back to their bikes. "Hope you have your insurance paid up, sucker!" one of them yelled. He grabbed a length of chain while his remaining friend picked up a bat. They revved their bikes in anticipation.
Bruce settled into a defensive stance about thirty yards away, waiting to make his move. When the chain-wielding thug tore off toward him, Bruce took a short, measured run at the approaching bike, timed a leap to land one foot on the front of the bike, and sprang forward, nailing the thug with a punch aimed squarely at his nose. The motorcycle spun out as its rider was knocked off.
Bruce landed on his feet as the second biker rode toward him, his bat aimed at Bruce's ribs. Bruce would have been able to dodge it, but Andrea had wandered closer out of concern. She wasn't in danger, but she provided just enough of a distraction that he took the hit squarely. He could feel ribs crack as he was thrown to the ground.
The chain-wielding thug managed to get to his feet and grab the money box as his partner circled back around. With Bruce grimacing in the middle of the road, the thug hopped on the back of his partner's bike and they rode off, victorious.
Bruce's rage at his failure helped him to his feet as Andrea ran toward him. "Oh, thank God you're alright, I was so frightened!" she said, helping him up the rest of the way. She touched his face gently and said, "Come on, let me have a look at you."
"Andrea, please," Bruce growled, pulling her hand away from his face. Anger, confusion, and humiliation filling his head, Bruce stalked off. Andrea apparently thought better of following him for the moment.
Good. He needed to be alone. This incident had given him some things to think about.