Something good that came from living in a world where you were known only as a character from a comic book? Being able to turn on a computer and gather information about somebody who knew you, but who you’d never once laid eye on, all without breaking a sweat. He took only the basics, not entirely sure about what could be trusted and what needed to be disregarded. He didn’t need to get ahead of himself and there was no reason to read what he didn’t need to see.
She knew all about him and not knowing a thing about her would put him on an unleveled playing field. Bruce wasn’t about to go headfirst into something with no information to lean on, not in this place, not in a city that he was growing more wary of by the hour.
Some might say that pinning the most recent string of robberies on her wouldn’t be fair. He had never met her, had never spoken to her in person and sometimes reading something about someone wasn’t enough to convict them. If she was misbehaving, he could wait and catch her in the act. Jumping down her throat without anything to go off of didn’t need to happen.
Good first (for him anyway) impressions could mean everything in the world. No need to ruin it so soon. He had plenty of time for that. Later. Tomorrow. The next day. When he saw it with his own two eyes.
---
The Rolls Royce rolled leisurely up to the curb at exactly ten passed nine. He turned the key, pocketed it and opened the door of the now silent, unmoving car. Bruce stepped around and let it slam shut, hard enough to get most men wincing, anticipating a wounded vehicle that cost more than they made in a year. How hard he shut the door on an expensive car was the least of his concern. He’d slam it if he wanted. And then he’d take no notice of it.
“Sorry I’m late. Traffic was a pain.” He peered at her, at the building in the background, headquarters that he had yet to see from the inside.