you always make my day ;; [alli]

[mary]

There was something about clocks that just floated her boat. From pocket watches to grandfather clocks- she loved them all. Delicate hands informed everybody of the very seconds ticking away, their perfectly spaced numbers, the rhythmic ticking. Nothing was more precise, more magnificent than a good clock. This being said, it was no wonder that Alice found herself wandering closer to the old Gotham Clocktower. The neighborhood was less desirable than some in Gotham, but there was a charm about the antique street-lamps that sputtered and slowly came to life as the sun began to dip under the crumbling towers of the former glory of Gotham.

"Tick...tock, tick tock..sings the Old Grandfather Clock." Alice hummed thoughtfully, as she quirked a brow, noting the lack of a lock as she pulled at the large doors that lead to the tower. They were heavy, and squeaked in defiance as she closed them behind her. Bracing her back against them briefly, the dark-haired woman inhaled quietly. Watching a few small birds flutter overhead, obviously unhappy with the unexpected visitor, Alice moved for the large staircase before her- glancing behind her only briefly. She moved elegantly up the stairway, her hand held delicately upon the dusty railing- moving on the tips of her toes as she ascended the stairs. She continued going up until the stairs came to their end.

Looking about curiously, Alice Fitch soon found herself wandering among the various rooms of the old Tower, some of them completely empty beyond the dust, some of them full of gear- some of them larger than her arm. At last, she found what she had been looking for- opening a small door, she ducked down, before finding herself behind the very face of the clock that looked over Gotham.

[Alli]

The Clocktower had always been one of the buildings that had always been in crummy condition since Bruce had been born. At one point in time, probably when Gotham City itself had been comparable to Metropolis, it had been in great condition. If Wayne Corp had not bought the building it would have probably been left in its awful condition.

It still wasn't in the best condition, as it "was not in the highest priorities of Wayne Enterprises at this point in time". At least that's what they told him. Still, he made his own yearly visits to the Clock Tower, sometimes to clean things up. Dusting Clock Towers wasn't exactly in Bruce Wayne's job description. He still did it.

The Clock Tower was not off limits to anyone, it was open to the public. There were schools that sometimes went to the Clock Tower for field trips, it was a history thing, he supposed. However the inside of it was spectacular, the rooms that were... clean at least.

Today was that day, where Bruce Wayne walked through the Clock Tower and admired the building for what it was: a piece of Gotham history. He didn't head to the top of the tower at first, he walked around, thinking of the proposal that he could make to Wayne Enterprises about fixing this building up for something else. He wasn't sure what, perhaps Batman needed to look into fixing up the Clock Tower, not Bruce Wayne.

When he was done thinking, and making observations of the lower levels he walked to the top. The main room at the top of the Clock Tower was spectacular, it was large and there were many things that could be put into this room.

His mind automatically went back to thinking about the uses that he could come up for this place for outside of Wayne Corp, but stopped when he saw another person standing in the room. The playboy persona kicked in and he casually walked up to the woman.

"Fascinating isn't it?"

[mary]

Alice knelt, abandoning her bag near the small door- undoubtedly meant only for service men to enter and replace various parts, her hands clasping on a few gears- smaller than her smallest nail..she held them delicately. Still kneeling, the woman curiously examined the remnants of the parts- picking up a screw as thick as her thumb. Leaning forward, she puckered her lips- blowing a soft steam of air over her treasures- watching as the dust particles drifted hazily in the air before her. Tilting her head, she carefully replaced the various pieces of metal back in their places- rising in one, fluid motion. Turning, she moved forward- carefully, the boards under her creaking under the unfamiliar weight. She doubted that anybody had been in this room for some time. Her steps left footprints in the thick dust and grim that had settled over the room. Tilting her head as she neared the inverted clock-face before her, Alice reached out- a thin hand stroking the fading shadow of the five.

A voice echoed behind her and Alice spun about so quickly that she briefly felt dizzy. Eyes attaching to the face that so often found its way onto the newspaper, she smiled- calmly. "Mister Wayne." She announced, though there was no need. He already knew his name, undoubtedly. She turned once more, looking at the inner workings of the clock that surrounded them. "Yes, I so deeply wish I could have seen it in its prime.." Alice mused, wistfully. Turning fully to the dark-haired man before her, she couldn't help but note the almost tangible air of confidence that lingered around his figure. "You own it, don't you?" Alice had never really cared for subtly, and it would be the only explanation as to why the millionaire had even the slightest interest in the old thing.

Just another investment.