Willow

Wayne to Match Donations

...It's giving season, Gotham! The prince himself, Bruce Wayne, has announced that he will match every donation made to the Wayne Foundation during Friday's charity gala...

"With the amount of money spent planning these events, it's a wonder any is given to charity at all." Verity mused. She neatly refolded the paper and set it back on the coffee table where she found it.

"I think it's nice of him." Vincent said, turning a page in the history book he wasn't actually paying attention to.

"I think he's a pompous show off."

"Have you even met him?"

Verity glanced down at the paper. A black and white photograph of Bruce Wayne graced the front page. He certainly looked like the Bruce that pulled her out of the water. Kind, generous, handsome, and rich. Some people, it seemed, were dealt all the good cards.

"No." She said finally, "Can't say that I have."

"The car is ready, your grace." Gaten came into the parlor just then, Verity's purse under one arm.

"Where're you headed?" Vincent asked, closing his textbook. He looked hopeful. Almost silently asking if she could get him out of the house.

"Meeting an old friend for brunch." She said, rising from the settee, "And then I'll be looking for a dress for Friday. Evening gowns didn't exactly make it onto my packing list."

"Oh." He frowned, crestfallen.

"Terribly dull girl stuff, I'm afraid." Verity ruffled his hair, "Help me with the thank you notes when I get back?"

"Sure." He brightened a little and swatted her hand away from his hair, fussing over it in his reflection in the window.

-&-

She didn't have many friends at Kingston. Most of her classmates found her snobbish and rude and she couldn't deny that she felt the same way about them. Some only wanted to associate with her in the hopes that her title of Duchess would get them something or somewhere. But not Silver. Silver hadn't cared about her title or sour disposition. They were both trying to escape the pressures their families and society had thrust upon them. But after graduation, Silver returned to Gotham and Verity to Markovia. They kept in touch when they could but Silver had her event business and Verity her estate.

She was glad, though. To have a friend in Gotham.

"Darling!" Silver squealed when she saw Verity walking up to the cafe and rushed over to squeeze her in a tight hug, which she eagerly returned, "it's so good to see you! You look amazing! How're your travels? How do you find Gotham so far? I promise it's not as dull as it looks! God, I am so glad you're here!"

"It's wonderful to see you as well, Silver." Verity grinned when she was finally released from her friend's vice grip of an embrace.

"Come, sit." Silver led her to a small, round wrought iron table under an enormous red umbrella, "I already ordered mimosas. Will your friend be joining us?"

Verity glanced over her shoulder at Gaten, hovering a few feet away and studying Silver with an intense gaze.

"Ah. No. My guard at Uncle Viktor's insistence. You can ignore him. I usually do."