“Here we are. It’s a few store fronts down.” He announced as they pulled up in front a boutique. If it’s one thing being a cop had in his favor, he mused; he learned how to get out of a car rather fast. “I’m glad it has stopped raining.”

            He opened the passenger door for her. After walking down the sidewalk a bit when they finally reached the window front, he made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “This is the place.” He announced to her, smiling.

            “Maurice’s.” She said, reading the elegant script across the pane of glass. “Well, you’re right, it must be the best kept secret, I’ve never heard of this place.”

            “I’m glad.”

            The two of them walked over to the door, a small copper bell rung when she pushed open the door. Walking so close beside her, he enjoyed the smell of her perfume. As the walked up to the host’s podium, he longed to put his arm around her curvy hips.

            “This place is so nice, so old-fashioned.” She paused, he watched as her eyes take in the dark wooden paneling, the plush maroon carpeting, and small intimate tables, which had a small candle. A soft glow of light that illuminated the restaurant from the various candles that scattered about the place, pictures of how Gotham looked years ago decorated the walls. Playing faintly from well-placed speakers were playing Sinatra doing a rendition of My Way. A tall, plump man who black hair slick with glistening pomade, made is way out of two double doors from a darkened corner of the restaurant, he held out both arms. “Welcome, Welcome, Gordon, hello. And with a young beautiful woman, hello.”

            “Hello, Maurice. This is Rachel Dawes, she is interning at the DA’s office.”
            “How very nice to meet you Ms. Dawes, any friend of Gordon’s is a friend of mine. I have just the right table,” He grabbed some menus from the podium. “Follow me.”

            “It’s very nice to meet you too, Maurice.” Then she as they followed, she leaned in close and placed a hand on his arm, “This place is great, I love it.” He could feel her breath on his cheek as she whispered that to him.

            He slid her a look and smile. “I’m happy to hear it.” He whispered back, the feel of her hand on his arm felt so right. He couldn’t help himself he patted her hand back.

 He mentally shook his head, what made him think a girl as young and beautiful as Rachel Dawes would be interested in him. He was newly separated and he could be her uncle at the very least. She could have her choice of men. But all he could think about was how he would’ve loved to have grabbed her in that elevator and kiss her with every fiber of his being. He would have loved to feel the softness of her hair, her lips.
            “Here we go, that way you won’t have to worry about your dishes or glasses.” Maurice sat them at one of the intimate tables that were a half circle.

            Parting they both shuffled into the booth and met rather close in the middle of the booth. “Oh sorry,” Rachel said as she bumped into him with her last shuffle, she covered her mouth with her hand.
            She looked positively adorable, “Don’t worry about it.” He winked at her. “That tends to happen with these kinds of booths. He felt her inch only a bit away from him, he had to contain the smile that caused in him.

            “Here are your menus. Is there anything I can get you two to drink?”

            He could Rachel’s eyes quickly scan the menu. “Oh, I haven’t had one of those in ages. I would like a raspberry Italian soda.” She smiled up at Maurice, then putting down the menu; she laid her coat to along the top of the booth.  

            “Of course, you can.” He paused, and looked at him. “And for you Gordon?”
            “Coffee, please.”

“Every good.” His brow, furrowed gentled, making his black bushy eyebrows knit together. “No wine?” He looked at the two of them.

“We’re both still working, Maurice. You know how it is.” He spoke for the two of them.

“That’s sad. Well, I will get your drinks while you decide what to have.” The plump man made his way back to the double doors; with a swing, he was gone.

“I hope you don’t mind, that I spoke for you.” Gordon, said after the man was through the doors. He realized she might not have liked that.

“Jim, that’s fine you know the man.” She opened the menu, and he watched as her eyes, doubled in size. “There looks like there are so many amazing dishes. I don’t know what to choose.” She sighed.

“Rachel, believe me.” He patted his stomach, “There are several excellent dishes. I’ve learned that the hard way.”

She smiled, “James, err I mean Jim,” she smiled self-consciously. “You look great to me; I would have never known that this place’s food had done you in.” She chuckled.

He felt his heart do a flip when he heard her call him James. “You are too kind. And you can call me James; everyone calls me Jim or Gordon.”

“I’ll have to remember that.” She paused biting her bottom lip. “I really can’t decide, Jim can you choose something for me. I’m going to go and freshen up.”

He watched as she made her way to the bathroom.