Batman sat on his favorite gargoyle overlooking his city. Above, the
thick clouds rolled over head with neither the threat of rain or the
promise of snow. The wind rapped gently around him with a soft trill. In
the distance, a few cars rolled silently to a stop at a red light. It was
Quiet wasn't normal for Gotham. He didn't understand why it always seemed
quiet on Christmas Eve. With a wide, impish grin, Dick would tell him
every year that it was the season of good cheer, and people didn't mug
other people when they have good cheer. Batman always grunted at that, and
always, he'd go out. Alone. Alfred never let him take Robin out on
He hated this. It was too cold and to? Christmas for anything to happen. It
should please him that it was a quiet night, but somehow, deep down, it
felt wrong. He wasn't a man used to inaction, and times like this? well,
there wasn't much to do. Even the police department was relaxing this
evening, having it's usual Christmas get-together, and here he was,
practically praying for something to happen.
Times like this?Well, he preferred action to inaction. When he was docile,
it left too much time to dwell upon other things.
As he surveyed his city, lethargy making him despise himself, he saw
her swing by. It was almost with relief that he shot his jump line out into
the night. He followed her as she went past her favorite jewelry stores on
Moench without so much as a look. He followed her as she flew by Gotham
Cathedral, over the throngs of people entering for Midnight Mass. Where was
Flying through the fridge air, he wished that the action would take his
mind off of his earlier ponderings, unfortunately, seeing her only made it
worse. He knew he shouldn't, but he hoped deep down that she'd do something
despicable. It was easier to hate her than?other things. There were some
emotions that were beyond uncomfortable.
She landed silently on the roof of Wayne Enterprises. Had he not been
wearing his cowl, one would have seen his eyebrow arch upwards. That's not
Catwoman's normal MO. When he landed on the roof he saw her -- sitting
there in her skin tight black leather suit, her legs crossed, and a smile
on her face. He realized she was waiting for him. Just like a spider.
"Merry Christmas Batman," Catwoman said with glee as she dangled a
piece of mistletoe over her head.
It took incredible restraint to keep from fidgeting as he grew
uncomfortable, but his curiosity was up. "What are you doing?"
"Looking for you."
That wasn't the answer he'd been searching for. "Why?"
She shrugged innocently. "It's Christmas. And I didn't want to be alone.
I thought you wouldn't want to be alone either," she said seductively as
she stood and crossed the distance between them. "I see you left the little
bird at home tonight. Dreaming of Santa and Sugar plums, I'd guess."
As she approached, he took in the scent of her, sweet, warm, vanilla
scents. Before he could stop it, those things he'd been thinking of earlier
welled up like a spring of indiscretion. He longed to touch her, to caress
her. He started to reach out -- then quickly wrapped his cape around
himself. If only she weren't playing the game like this. He needed the
battle-the action. That would make all of this go away.
Like a woman who was quite aware of what she was doing, Catwoman
watched him and laughed.
She laughed! At Batman. He was the scourge of the night, the demon Bat
that criminals feared. And Catwoman was -- laughing -- at him. And she had
laugh. His lip twitched. Just once.
Slowly, seductively, she moved even closer, dangling the mistletoe in
front of his face, "Are you cold? Wrapping that cape around you like that.
I can think of better things to do to warm us up."
He noticed that in her last movements, she'd placed herself between him
and the door on the roof. "What are you planning, Catwoman?"
Her round, red lips pulled back in a smile that he was loath to
continue staring at. It would be? unwise, he decided, to continue with
further eye contact with her-perhaps even dangerous. "You, me and
mistletoe. You're a detective, you figure it out." Unfortunately, he had
been caught in the snare-or he'd allowed himself to be. It was difficult to
tell which. She rubbed her free hand on his chest, then wrapped her slender
arms around his neck. "Looks like there's a Bat under the mistletoe," she
said before she kissed him.
Without forethought, or the anxiety that had beset him at the beginning
of the evening, he kissed her back.
Not a short kiss, but a long passionate kiss. And they didn't stop at
just one either.
"You've got to be up to something," he said suspiciously when they
finally stopped long enough to breath. There had to be a catch-some other
card she was playing. That was just because he knew her. Regrettably, his
mind was now too clouded with the taste and smell of her to work it all
That was why Batman denied himself these things. They were-a liability.
She never broke eye contact with him. She just continued to stare into
his cowl with those seductive green eyes. Batman knew he had to get hold of
himself-and yet-he didn't want to. Certainly? one was allowed to give even?
one's own self a present on a holiday. Even if he deserved none. "It's
Christmas Eve. Wars stop for this. Even criminals take the night off.
You're the only one who plays Scrooge. Even your birdie boy's at home."
And Batman was so glad the boy was at home right now. What sort of role
model would he be for Dick -- here with Catwoman doing -- what was he
doing? On a rooftop kissing Catwoman-indulging in some dark fantasy he had
no business dabbling in, while Robin -- no while Dick -- was at home alone
hanging up his stocking with Alfred. This was beyond wrong, and deep in his
soul, he knew it. He had the will to drive himself harder than any other
man. He had the audacity to stand up to an entire city every single night-
Yet, he looked into her bright green eyes and seemed to forget
everything else. A man could drown in those eyes.
And right now, he wanted too. But ... he was Batman. And ... she
Catwoman. Will power? resolve?"Why are you here at Wayne Enterprises?"
"Come with me," she replied as she took him by the hand. He allowed
himself to be led by Catwoman through his own private roof access into
Bruce Wayne's private office. It was familiar ground, and yet, somehow, new
territory as well.
"Where? How did -- ?" She certainly knew her way around, he realized as
she lead him around his own desk, past the trash can, the table with the
coffee maker upon it... Slowly, she turned back to him, smiling, then
began pulling him towards the leather sofa. "Shh," she said as she placed a
slender finger against his lips. "Merry Christmas."
He knew he shouldn't be doing this. Knew this was wrong. VERY wrong.
This was Catwoman. They were in Bruce Wayne's office heading for Bruce
Wayne's sofa. HIS sofa. Where Dick sat innocently when he came for after
He lost his ability to breathe when she ran her hand across his chest,
then started sliding her hand downwards. That was when he realized he was
also unable to move. All he could do was stare into her jade eyes. Too bad
he couldn't blame it upon a spell or drug? too bad he knew he was allowing
himself to be walked into this. Too bad he knew he was enjoying every
moment of it-as much as it was killing him as well.
Taking his utility belt in her hand, she removed it, carelessly tossing it
toward his desk. Moving her arms toward his neck, she unfastened his cape,
letting it drop to the floor with a flutter and then a thud. And he let
her. Catwoman had just disarmed Batman -- without any resistance.
Then she removed her own mask.
He stared deeply into her eyes. He couldn't bring himself to breathe.
Didn't need to breathe. He needed her. He was Batman. She was Catwoman. And
as much as he hated to admit it-as much as it was a sign of his own
weakness and failing-he NEEDED her. Grabbing her quickly around the waist,
he pulled her to him forcefully. She laughed-knowing she had won. Pushing
against him with hunger, they fell onto the sofa.
* * *
He woke from a contented, peaceful rest to his emergency signal. He
looked down at her, wrapped in his cape, lying so comfortably in his arms.
Instantly, the tranquility washed away. His right hand reached up and felt
his cowl. Well -- he had left something on. Deep within, there was some
vestige of self-restraint within him. Slipping from beneath her, he found
his communicator and opened the hailing channel.
"Batman here," he whispered.
"Master Bruce! It is four in the morning. Christmas morning." Guilt
brought color to his cheeks. He couldn't believe he was being reprimanded
by Alfred, in his office, while he held a very naked and sedate Catwoman in
his arms. And there was NO ONE he could blame for this but himself.
Alfred's voice was devoid of concern for his charge's well-being. What he
faced now was old fashioned WRATH. "You do realize that this family has
always -- ALWAYS -- opened presents and had Christmas when you returned
from your Christmas Eve patrol. You have NOT yet RETURNED from your
Christmas Eve Patrol. And I took the liberty of reviewing the police
dispatch tapes on the computer downstairs. Gotham City has not fallen prey
to a crime wave."
Batman placed his hands on his head. Oh he had been a naughty boy. And
Santa just caught him. Only when Alfred was Santa -- coal in your stocking
was the least of your worries.
"Where's Robin?" he asked quietly, trying not to wake the woman in his
arms. He was an idiot, and probably insane, too What the hell had possessed
him? Angry with himself, he slowly he slid out from under her, doing his
best not to wake her.
"Master Dick went to bed long ago. He gave up waiting for your return.
I believe he was quite disappointed. He is only thirteen years old, you
know. It would be nice if you had thought him important enough to spend the
"It's not that. I --" he glanced back at Catwoman on the sofa. Her skin
was so smooth? her body curved so? "I lost track of time. I'll be home
Catwoman sat up on the sofa and watched him as he started dressing.
"Past the pumpkin time huh?" She stood and stretched, then started toward
the fully stocked bar, padding over completely nude.
"What?" he asked distracted.
"Cinderella story, turning into a pumpkin after midnight -- you don't
get out much do you?" she asked as she laughed again.
He did love her laugh.
But he had to go home. He had responsibilities. He had people -- family
-- he had hurt by not being there. "I ... I have to go home."
"Home? And here I thought you only had a Cave." She walked up to him,
wrapping her arms around his neck. "Thank you for tonight. Merry, merry
Christmas." She kissed him again. A deep, passionate kiss.
"You are leaving?" he asked, almost begged, embarrassed at what he had
done. That he had given in to his desires. That he wanted to take her home
She bent and picked up her clothes, giving him an obscenely lovely view
of her?"I can let myself out. I let myself in. Go play Santa Bat to your
little Bird. I'll catch you on the rooftops."
* * *
Stepping from behind the grandfather clock entrance from the Cave into
the Manor, Bruce looked around. The Christmas tree was all trimmed,
presents bulging from beneath. The three stockings Dick always insisted
they hang gracing the mantle piece below his parents' portrait. They never
would have left him alone on Christmas Eve. What had he been thinking?
He turned to go upstairs to check on Dick. He stopped when he saw
Alfred, in pajamas and robe, standing in the doorway -- arms crossed. Bruce
knew he was in trouble.
"I'm sorry," he said as he started walking toward the door. He hoped
that would be enough and he could make it past the elderly man.
"What kept you, Bruce?" Alfred asked flatly.
He ran a hand through his hair. "I ... I was preoccupied," Bruce replied
as he tried to move past Alfred.
"I thought that it was 'Master Bruce' and not 'The Batman' that was the
"Huh," Bruce asked looking into Alfred's gray eyes.
"Vanilla. The scent is all over you. You should be ashamed of yourself,
leaving that child alone on Christmas while you were out with a woman. And
a criminal at that."
"Criminal?" Bruce asked afraid to hear Alfred's answers. Batman may be
the world's greatest detective, BUT no one could pull anything over on
"I believe that was how Catwoman was classified the last time I
Bruce felt the heat rush to his face. He knew he was blushing. Oh, to
be facing the Joker rather than an angry and disappointed Alfred. "Sorry. I
-- I'm going to check on -- Dick." Bruce rushed up the stairs and down the
long hall. He stopped outside Dick's door. Taking a breath, he tentatively
opened the door.
Empty. Dick was gone. He wasn't in his room. His bed was rumpled as if
someone had been laying on top of it. But Dick was gone.
* * *
Bruce ran down the stairs. "Alfred! ALFRED!"
Alfred was folding napkins for the next day. Bruce may have ruined this
evening, but he certainly wasn't going to hinder tomorrows dinner. "Master
Bruce, haven't I taught you better than to shout in the house. It's after
five in the morning. I was hoping I could go to bed now," the elderly man
"He's gone," Bruce said, panic in his voice. "Dick's gone. His bed
hasn't been slept in."
Alfred sighed. "Is it any wonder he left? You left him alone on
Christmas Eve for the entire night. The last five years, you have left him
alone every single Christmas Eve. But at least in the past, you've had the
curtsey to come home at a relatively decent hour and spend Christmas with
the boy. I'm quite sure he feels abandoned, hurt and alone."
Bruce felt shame. How could he do this to Dick? He should have been
home, not rolling around the rooftops with Catwoman. "There's no time for
this. Recriminations can wait." Actually they couldn't, but he could do
enough on his own. This is one thing he really DIDN'T need Alfred's help
with. "I ... I'm going back up to his room to check for clues. See if the
security camera picked up anything."
Bruce fled Alfred's stare. He couldn't handle the disapproval in his
eyes. Upon reaching Dick's room, the same tentativeness returned. Steeling
himself, he grabbed the knob swinging the door open. Flipping the light
switch, he started searching the room for any evidence as to where the
young boy had gone to.
Clothes still in the closet. That's a good sign. "Unless he didn't want
anything from me. I wouldn't blame him if he felt like that." Bruce said
aloud. What a stupid, irresponsible thing he had done. There was no
excuse, no explanation-other than letting his own? desire? his own
foolishness get in the way of... If anything happened to Dick because of
NO. He couldn't -- wouldn't -- think like that. He'd find Dick. But why
weren't there any clues in this room? What kind of great detective was he?
He couldn't even find his own missing thirteen year old. Who wouldn't be
missing IF he had been at home where he belonged. "What kind of person
leaves their kid alone on Christmas Eve?"
"Indeed, young sir," Alfred's voice sounded behind him.
Bruce flinched. He hadn't heard Alfred come into the room. Was he so
worried he flinched? "Anything on the security cameras?"
"No. However, you are quite aware that Master Dick has been well
trained in stealth abilities. If the lad doesn't wish to be found, he won't
be found. Not even by you. I do believe that was the test you gave him
before allowing him to graduate into the Robin costume."
Bruce sat on the bed, running his hand through his hair. What had he
* * *
Four Hours Earlier
Dick had rushed through his nightly routine so he could hang his stocking.
He rushed through hanging his stocking and saying goodnight to Alfred so he
could go back to his room. Throwing himself upon the bed, he realized he
was the most horrible kid in the entire world.
Bruce never let him go out on Christmas Eve, but this year he hadn't even
fought it. Usually he gave at least a good resounding protest. He also
wasn't doing the prerequisite bonding with Alfred in the kitchen until
Bruce came home and they could open presents. He was in his room, on his
bed, laying on his stomach, dialing a number he'd memorized last night when
he'd been 'playing around' on the cave computers.
"Hello?" a voice asked on the other end.
"Hi, I'm looking for a pretty little red-headed girl who stole my heart and
There was an angry sigh. "HOW did you get this number?"
He grinned, his anguish over leaving Bruce alone temporarily forgotten. "A
good Bat-scout never tells."
"Soooooo? whatcha doing?" he rolled onto his side, as if that could make
him hear better.
"Washing my hair."
"Oooh. The brush-off."
He heard her sigh on the other end.
"I'm too much of a woman for you," she told him. "I don't even HAVE to
worry about a brush off because I am SO out of your league, Munchkin."
Dick groaned. He'd only recently discovered girls, and this particular girl
was not only the love of his life, but she wouldn't give him the time of
day. Dick was in heaven. "Oh, darlin' I love it when you talk to me like--"
Dick dialed her number again. She even answered again. "What is it, Short
"I'm not short! I'm vertically challenged. You just wait a few years?"
"Yeah. Call me in a few years."
With dogged persistence, Dick dialed her number again.
"Is your fridge running?" he asked before she could say hello.
"No, but your feet smell."
"DON'T HANG UP!" he cried out.
"You know me too well."
"So, uh, whatcha doing?"
There was a long pause. "Nothing."
"Dad at work?"
"Some stupid Christmas thing for work."
"You didn't go?"
"Food poisoning last year from eating Bullock's spinach dip."
Dick pondered that a moment. The thought of the heavy cop making anything
that didn't involve tons of grease was just weird and nasty. "Eww," he said
"My sentiments exactly."
"Can I come over?"
Dick grinned. He'd almost had it that time. He'd just pushed a little too
far a little too quickly. Hitting redial, he felt the thrill of the chase,
but also the tinge of guilt. He couldn't believe he was leaving Bruce out
there all alone on Christmas Eve to be consumed by guilt and angst so he
could play phone tag with a girl. Dick was a heal.
"Look, Short Pants, I got hair to wash."
"I'll be good," Dick promised solemnly.
It was very silent.
"So. Uh? open any Christmas presents yet?"
"How's about you and me go flying. That'll make ya feel better."
"I'll warm ya up."
She sighed. "I'm going to hang up on you again." But she didn't. "Why
aren't you out with your partner?"
Dick thought about what answer to give. "He decided to go angst on his own
tonight. Which is OK. Leaves me to talk with my best girl."
"You crawled out of the other half of the century, didn't you?"
"You can't prove that. Done playing with your hair?"
"Robin, I will have you know, a woman's hair is not something to 'play'
with. It's a delicate and intricate process to get everything JUST right.
It must be washed, conditioned, dried in an acceptable fashion and then
styled in a manner so as not to cause harm to the hair. And that, my Boy
Wonder, is what takes so long."
Dick gave an appreciative whistle. "Learning something new about girls
every day. So. Will you marry me?"
"You WANT me to hang up on you again, don't you?" she asked. Fortunately,
there was a hint of laughter in her voice this time, instead of the
previous overly serious tones.
"Negative attention is still attention, babe."
She laughed, and it was the sweetest sound to his thirteen-year-old ears.
"Robin, the Boy Loser."
"Hey," he said mock-defensively. "None of that. Geeze. All the bad nick-
names I have came from you. Don't you feel some kind of guilt over that?"
She set into a diatribe about why she DIDN'T feel guilty. Mostly they
involved times he'd nearly gotten her killed. Women never forgot anything,
he decided. They talked on, laughing in low tones so he wouldn't be caught
on the phone after curfew. After they'd relived their greatest adventures,
talked about 'most embarrassing moments with Grim and Grumpy', discussed
current trends in foods made out of pumpkin and entirely explored the topic
of the Mayor's hair pieces, Dick looked at the clock.
"Oh, crap a dog," he muttered. "It's like? four AM. Your dad isn't back
"He mighta came in and thought I was asleep. Or talking to a guy."
"Hey! You ARE talking to a guy."
She snorted. "Boy, whatever. Your keeper isn't home yet?"
"No. Maybe I should go look for him."
"Maybe I should come with you."
"I don't need a baby-sitter," he said flippantly, but inside he was
worried. Bruce never took this long on Christmas Eve. He went out to put up
a show, then he came back, they opened presents, got a little sentimental
and mushy, then everyone went to bed.
* * *
"Twenty minutes later, Robin crawled outta my window. Alfred'd kick my butt
if he knew I was going out on Christmas Eve. He'd just say that my partner
would turn up eventually, or he'd call for back up eventually. But Bruce
would neeeeever do that because it's Christmas Eve and he angsts all by
himself on Christmas Eve?
"Robin's rambling. Anyways." He was also talking to himself, he noted.
He did a once-around the city, didn't see anyone. He did a twice-around the
city, still didn't see anyone. He got cold and disgusted and ended up on
Babs' window sill.
"Look, Short-fry, I was sleeping," she grumbled, letting him in. "You said
you didn't need a baby-sitter, so you're on your own. I'm not going out
Robin blinked, staring at the monstrosity on her head. "Something's eating
your head, Babs," he told her in all seriousness.
"They're CURLERS, nitwit. Now GO. I was getting my beauty sleep."
"I was wondering if your dad saw my Bat. I can't find him nowhere. And
while I'm thinking about it, you need about a year's straight wortha sleep
to make you pretty." Actually, she didn't. She was gorgeous just like she
was, even with curlers eating her head.
"If you wake my dad up, you're going to be taking a long fall off a
building. Without a jump line. Good NIGHT Robin."
The door opened. "BARBARA."
"Haha," The Boy Wonder muttered. "You're in trouble."
"ROBIN?" And the tired, half-asleep commissioner was less than amused with
the little bird standing in his daughter's bedroom.
"Uh? Wrong window, sir." Robin nervously looked from side to side. "Was
wondering if you saw my Bat?"
"He's out this late?"
Robin shrugged. "I looked all over."
Gordon didn't know what to tell the young man. He knew Batman was dedicated
to his work. Overly so. But certainly he could spare one evening for his
young partner. It WAS Christmas after all. "If I see him? I'll send him
home," Jim promised finally.
He could tell the young man was disappointed, but he didn't know what else
he could do. "Thanks, sir. It? it means a lot." He regretfully slunk
towards the window. Climbing out, he turned back when he was sitting on the
sill. Suddenly his mood changed. "Night, Sleeping Ugly. Merry Christmas."
With a laugh, he jumped out. When Barbara looked out the window, there was
no sign of him.
Jim shook his head. He knew Robin had a horrible crush on his daughter and
had done his best to discourage it because of the obvious and unhealthy age
difference. Now the boy was reduced to 'accidentally' coming in through her
window and calling her childish names.
"And you, young lady. Threatening the poor boy. On CHRISTMAS."
"He's a dork. He deserves it."
He had to smile.
* * *
Dick stopped on top of Bruce's favorite gargoyle. He'd been here tonight,
Dick could tell. Biting his cheek, he looked out over the city, trying to
think of where his mentor could be. There wasn't anything going on, that he
"You really should be getting home, Little Bird."
Robin spun around, nearly falling off of his spot. "What'd you do to
Batman?" It HAD to be Catwoman. She had to have done something horrible to
Batman for him to not come home on Christmas Eve.
Her lips pulled back into a smile, like she'd caught a mouse? or a Bird,
Robin thought with a gulp. "Met up with him already, eh?" she took a few
steps closer as he slid off the gargoyle and landed on the roof with a soft
thud. "And he's frightened the little birdy by being less? ornery?"
"What'd you do to him? Where is he?" Robin was thoroughly confused.
Catwoman rolled her eyes. "You'd better go home." She turned to leave.
"Wait! Where is he?"
"At HOME." Really. Kids today. "Which is where all good children should be,
if they expect Santa to come."
"HAH," Robin said smartly. "Shows how much YOU know. I don't believe in
Santa." Unless he wanted to bring Robin a pretty little red head all tied
up in a bow.
"Go home, kid. What you're looking for is there." She leapt off the
building and landed on the sill of a building across the street.
Robin bit his cheek. He should probably go after her, or something. She was
a bad guy after all. But still, it was Christmas. Maybe he could give her a
like? one day head start. "Umm? ok. Thanks. Merry Christmas," he called
She grinned back at him. Whatever she'd done, it had been a VERY Merry
Christmas for her already.
* * *
Dick could see the light was on in his room. He'd specifically remembered
shutting it off when he'd left. Dick knew at that moment he was in the
deepest of doo doos.
He crept through the window with great caution. Instead of just facing one
grown up, it was both. "Uh? ho, ho, ho?" he asked. Not that cuteness ever
got him out of trouble before, but he could certainly make that effort.
Alfred's eyes were wide. Why was Bruce sitting on his bed? He musta been in
mega super-call the Justice League they're gonna kill me--trouble if Bruce
was waiting for him.
"Where were you?" Was that caution he sensed in Bruce's voice?
"Looking for you!" Robin closed the window then bounded on the bed next to
his mentor. "I couldn't find ya anywhere, and I thought something'd
happened if you hadn't come home because you always come home on Christmas
Eve, and I even woke up Babs' dad, but he didn't know where you were, then
I found Catwoman. Man! She musta gave you some trouble to keep you out all
night! And she was all creepy and happy and 'go home' and stuff. Then I
came back here." He grinned cutely.
Bruce and Alfred looked at each other, having this conversation with their
eyes. It must have been some kind of secret grownup thing because Dick had
NO idea what was going on. He didn't know if he was in big trouble or NOT
"Dick? don't wake up Gordon," was all Bruce said by way or acknowledgement
He smelled something in the air. "Alfred, you got any more Vanilla
pudding?" Get home late, and it's all gone. ALWAYS. Bruce was such a pig.
Both Bruce and Alfred looked at the carpet. No pudding for Dickie, he
"So," Dick said, tearing off his mask and unclipping his cape all in one
motion. He grinned with childish, unsuspecting joy. "We gonna open presents
* * *
Selina dropped down on her balcony and entered her penthouse. She was
greeted by her many cats -- gray ones, orange and white Tabbies, gray
striped Tabbies, Persians - many, many different ones. She always said they
didn't belong to her, but they belonged to each other. She dropped her mask
as she walked further into the apartment. Lounging on a chaise in the
living room -- the lone black cat -- the one Selina belonged to -- jumped
into her lap.
"Merry Christmas Isis," she purred at her cat. She loved them all, but
Isis was in a class alone. "Look at the pretty present I brought home,"
Selina said as she held aloft the sparkling diamond necklace. "Bruce
Wayne's going to have a New Year's surprise when he opens his office safe
to give this to his date for the evening." Selina laughed. She had stolen
the necklace from the safe while Batman was dressing. She smiled at the
He was enough to make a bad girl turn good -- well -- almost enough, at
least on Christmas Eve.
Her phone rang. It was almost six in the morning. Who would be calling
her at this ungodly hour. "Hello?"
"Selina, its Bruce Wayne. I was wondering, do you have a date for New