Paper Planes

XXIX

A/N: No Joker. Just a small chapter with some insight to Bruce & Ember's brief relationship. (So sorry for any disappointment, this small snippet is essential to the story).

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"Summer bachelors like summer breezes, are never as cool as they pretend to be."
—Nora Ephron

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Let's rewind the clocks back a bit...

"Navy or teal?"

Ember squinted slightly, arms crossed as her vision bounced between the identical tops held in each of Mallory's hands. One navy, and one teal, respectively.

"Teal?" She lightly suggested, earning a darkened glare from Mallory as she clearly disapproved.

"Really? But look at the navy one! It's absolutely gorg."

Ember threw her arms up in defeat, rolling her eyes as she took a seat on a nearby creme colored leather chair, sinking deeply into the material.

"I don't know, Mal. Just pick one, or buy both."

Mallory sighed, placing the teal top back onto the rack as she brushed a loose brunette strand of hair from her bright green eyes.

"Navy wins, I guess. You're still paying, right?"

"Yes, Mal. I told you it's your birthday present." Ember reassured the petite woman, rising from the seat as she shuffled through her patterned purse, retrieving a matted wallet.

Mallory led the woman to the cashier, who was a teenage girl with a bit too much blue eyeshadow and bright red overlined lips.

Ember grimaced as the teenage girl smacked her gum impolitely, scanning the article of clothing as Ember eyed the price.

Seventy-two dollars?

The woman shifted uncomfortably in place, eyeing a rather giddy Mallory as she gleamed at the sight of her new top.

"That'll be seventy-two fifty." The teenager blandly stated, smacking her gum again.

With a hesitant hand, Ember positioned the card above the slot, sliding it quickly as the machine beeped in response.

"Uh, ma'am," The teenager stammered.
"Your card declined."

Tomorrow was pay day.

"Fuck," Ember grunted.
"We don't get paid until tomorrow, Mallory. I don't have enough."

"It's on me."

Both Mallory and Ember spun on their heels, glancing in the direction of the sudden deep voice that had emerged from behind them.

Gotham's infamous Bruce Wayne smiled curtly, dressed cleanly in a pinstripe gray suit, a flourescent red credit card laced between his fingers.

"N-No, it's okay, sir." Ember stuttered, but Bruce silently insisted, brushing against the womans shoulder as he simply slid his card, purchasing Mallory's shirt for her.