Disclaimer: This goes for the whole fic. Apart from Ilaria, I own NOTHING!

A/N: Set about six months after TDK. And I wasn't sure where Bruce's penthouse was, but I made it just some random Wayne-owned building. Sorry if it's wrong, but what can I do about it now? Enjoy!

Chapter One – Welcome To Gotham

I hate it when people feel sorry for me. Most don't say it, but I can hear it in their voices anyway.

I was born blind at birth. I've never seen a sunrise, I've never seen the stars, and I don't know what my parents look like. It really doesn't bother me. How can you miss something you've never experienced? I don't need to see a sunrise to feel warmth on my face. I don't need to see the stars to reach for them. I know my parents love me without needing to see the smiles on their faces.

My name is Ilaria Simmons. Odd mix, I know. My mother is Italian, and my father English. It still got me some weird looks at school though. I was born in Rome, raised in London, and now…I suppose Gotham is my home. Now that sounds strange. Having an actual, permanent home. Until six months ago I was a part of the London Symphony Orchestra, and touring all around the world. I've been to Asia, Australia, Europe, North and South America. There's not much call for concerts in Antarctica.

I play the piano. I can't ever remember not wanting to be a pianist. My mother always told me I had a natural ear – which is a good job, I suppose, since I can't read the music. All music, if it's played well, is wonderful, but the piano (to me at least) is transcendent. It's liquid beauty. I see when I play. That sounds silly, I know.

I've never been bored with my life, but since moving here, it's certainly gotten…well more dangerous, at least, but definitely more exciting as well. Falling in love always is, isn't it?

---

Five months earlier

"Ilaria, would you hurry up!"

"Yeah, I'm coming!" I called back, rolling my eyes at my best friend's tone. Since being indefinitely loaned to the Gotham Symphony Orchestra, I'd moved in with Charlie, one of my oldest friends. She'd moved to America with her now-ex husband, and had offered to let me stay with her until I found my own place. This morning I'd booked a showing for an apartment a few blocks from here, and, as usual, we were late.

I unlocked the bathroom door and stepped out. "I'm ready, I'm ready. Keep your hair on. Jasper!"

My guide dog – who went almost everywhere with me – came trotting over, and sat patiently at my feet. "Charlie, hand me the harness would you?"

She pressed it into my hand, and I quickly put it on Jasper, taking the handle in my left hand. I rubbed his ears briefly and stood upright. "Now we can go."

She opened the door, and Jasper led me out the apartment while Charlie locked the door. And then locked it. And locked it. I giggled. "I refuse to believe that this city is that dangerous."

"Well where else would you find a man who dresses a bat patrolling the city every night?" she asked me.

"New York could certainly do with one."

"Well the police in New York aren't all totally bent," she pointed out.

"I thought you said the new commissioner was one of the good guys."

"He is, but if he's working with bent cops-"

"I thought that was dealt when the clown guy got put in prison?"

"The 'clown guy'?" she repeated incredulously. "The Joker, Ria, the Joker."

I shrugged. "Whatever. Anyway, my point is, surely Gotham's got to the point where it isn't all that dangerous anymore?"

"Wait till you've lived here for a few weeks," she said. "See if you still think that."

"Well I live here now," I reminded her. By this time we'd gotten to the street, and it was raining lightly. I smiled – I've always liked the feel of rain on my skin.

Charlie, however, hasn't. Ever, for as long as I've known her. "Bloody rain! I swear, it's always raining in this city!"

"This is the first time it's rained in two weeks," I said.

"But we haven't got a cab yet, and in this rain it's going to take us-"

Footsteps sounded in my ear; it was busy on the street anyway, and there were footsteps all around us, but these were much closer than the others. Any closer and the guy would have been standing on my foot. I knew it was a man – tall and quite big from his length of stride and heaviness of step. A loud, piercing whistle went off in my ear, and I winced slightly. When you have enhanced hearing things like that are really loud.

He'd lifted up his arm to hail the taxi, and as he lowered it again I got a wave of expensive cologne, just the right amount of it to be alluring but not overpowering. Something I definitely wouldn't mind smelling again.

The sound of an engine came closer, and a taxi pulled up next to us. "Thank you," Charlie said in a rather breathless voice that sounded nothing like her. I raised an eyebrow, but got into the car first, Jasper coming after me. "Corner of twenty-seventh and twelfth please," I said to the cabbie.

Charlie got in, and we set off. "What was that all about?" I asked her. "Your voice hasn't been that high since we were about eleven."

"That was Bruce Wayne!" she said, still sounding breathless. "Bruce Wayne just called a taxi for us!"

"Who?" I asked.

"Ilaria, don't you ever listen to the TV?"

"Not really. I prefer to actually do something useful with my time," I teased. "Who's Bruce Wayne, anyway?"

"The prince of Gotham? The head of Wayne Enterprises? Like…the richest man in America?"

"That's Bill Gates," I said.

"Whatever," she replied. "The point is we just met Bruce Wayne!"

"He didn't say a word. I don't think 'met' is the right term." Then I frowned. "And who said that I needed any help hailing a cab? Just because-"

"Oh for crying out loud. Here we go again."

"What? I'm more than capable of taking care of myself, as I keep telling you. And your heart is still beating really fast," I added. "Is he that good-looking?"

Charlie was one of only four people who knew just how much my other senses compensated for my lack of vision. I could hear people's heartbeats up to thirty feet away. On an empty street I could hear footsteps a hundred yards from me. My dad always joked that the only one he knew who could smell better than me was Jasper. My mother didn't really like talking about it – I got the feeling that sometimes she thought my senses were a little supernatural. My brother, Ben, knew too.

"Yeah he is!" Charlie exclaimed. "Oh my God I'm so red!"

I raised a hand, but didn't have to put it to her face in order to feel the heat coming off it. "You are," I agreed. "Now can we put Bruce Wayne aside and concentrate on finding me an apartment?"

"I don't see why you can't just stay with me," she pointed out.

"Because I can't fit the piano at yours, and I'd wake up all the neighbours even if I could practise."

"So you want a big place, and somewhere far from neighbours. Christ, Ilaria, you need a penthouse."

"Well that's good," I smiled.

The cab slowed and pulled up outside the building. I got a twenty out of my purse and handed it to the driver. "Thank you."

As we got out, I pointed upward. "It's the one at the top. Apparently it has its own helipad."

Charlie gave a huge intake of breath. "You mean you're actually getting a penthouse?! Ria, how the hell are you going to afford that?!"

"My dad's dad apparently left me some money that's been sitting in a savings account since I was three. There's quite a lot in there. But I'll be blowing all of it on this apartment."

"How much is there?" she asked curiously.

"About twenty million," I said, blushing.

"You never told me you were rich!" she spluttered after a while.

"I'm not if we're talking Bruce Wayne standards," I said. "And I've never used the money – there's a clause in my grandfather's will that says it has to be used to buy a house. And besides, what did your last painting sell for?"

I knew she was blushing again, and it was while before she spoke, and then it was quiet. "Two-fifty."

I grinned. "What was that sorry?"

"Two hundred and fifty thousand, ok?" she answered.

"And I couldn't afford this, but the realtor I spoke to on the phone told me that the owner had told her to accept the first offer over fifteen million they got."

"So there's something wrong with it?" Charlie asked sharply.

"That's why I brought you," I told her. "Come on."

We went inside, being greeted quickly by the woman I'd spoken to on the phone. "Hi! I'm Nancy! It's so nice to finally meet you!"

I stretched out my hand, and she shook it with quite a limp grip. I suppressed the urge to sigh. People were always so careful with me; I wasn't made out of china, for Heaven's sake. "Pleasure's all mine. I'm Ilaria Simmons, this is my friend Charlotte Grant."

"Great! Shall we go up?" she asked.

She led us to an elevator – I like small spaces. I can get a picture of the room much more clearly, since sounds bounce off everything and echo back. It's like sonar, building up a picture in my head of what the room looks like. Not that there's much to see in an elevator. "Now, to get to the penthouse, you have to have a key, and the lock is inside the button. Just twist and push."

"Do you mind if I do that?" I asked. If I was going to be living here, I needed to know how to get in.

She pressed the key into my hand. "The buttons are just to your right, penthouse is at the top."

I smiled and stretched out my hand, tracing the rows of buttons. It was easy enough to find the one with the key hole in it, and then to put the key carefully in. I twisted and pushed as she'd said, and within seconds the doors closed with a soft ping.

Charlie immediately launched into her interrogation. "So what's wrong with the apartment? Place like this, must be worth at least double fifteen million."

"Yes, it is, but I'm afraid I can't give you a particular reason. The owner's well-known for changing his mind because of his little whims, after all," Nancy said.

"Who is the owner?" I asked curiously. Technically she probably wasn't supposed to tell me, but I could tell from her tone – Nancy liked to gossip.

"Well don't tell anyone I told you, but would you believe that Bruce Wayne is selling this place?"

"Bruce Wayne?" I exclaimed. "He's selling it?"

"Well, apparently his house is all rebuilt so he doesn't need this place anymore."

"Rebuilt?" I muttered to Charlie out of the corner of my mouth.

"He burned it to the ground when he was drunk," she whispered back.

I suppressed a smile, wondering if I'd ever get a chance to speak to the elusive Mr Wayne. Seemed likely, especially since there was the opening of Symphony Hall coming up. The kind of thing that socialite billionaires attended.

The penthouse was fifty eight floors up, but the elevator took less than twenty seconds to reach it. The doors opened with another ping, and immediately I felt warmth flood my face. The sun must be out. "It's stopped raining," I said softly.

I don't think either of them heard me; Charlie gave a huge gasp. "Oh my God!"

"Big then?" I enquired.

"Huge!" she said with wonder in her voice.

"Describe it to me?" I asked.

"Windows on three sides, floor to ceiling. There are double doors leading to a balcony, about ten feet to your left. Spiral staircase directly in front of us, leading upward to a second floor. There's raised-dais bit just behind it that would be perfect for the piano, Ria. And there's three other doors on the right, but they're closed."

"That's the kitchen and downstairs bathroom, as well as the dining room," Nancy interrupted. "Around the corner is the main reception area and the doors to the helipad."

"I don't think I'll be using that a lot," I put in, smiling.

Nancy continued. "Upstairs we have the master bedroom and two smaller ones – all ensuite, and the private living room."

On the harness, I could feel Jasper fidgeting, and I turned to Nancy. "Is it alright if I let my dog have a sniff around? He's very well trained."

"Um…ok then. Sure, I guess."

I grinned and touched her arm briefly. "Thank you, Nancy."

I bent and unhooked the handle from the jacket that Jasper wore, and patted his head. He took it as an invitation to explore the apartment, and headed off. I listened to the sound of his paws. "Wooden floor? Sounds like…ash?" Oak would be a softer, lower sound, but pine would be loud and harsh. Ash was somewhere in the middle.

There was a pause before she spoke again. "Uh, yes. And marble upstairs."

"Hmm. I should imagine that gets cold," I commented.

"Not at all," Nancy said smoothly. "Under-floor heating."

I had to hand it to her. She was good at her job. She answered all the questions I had, pointed out all the features that would be beneficial to me without spending too much time on things that wouldn't matter. She didn't even mention the what were I'm sure spectacular views. Charlie kept gasping at every corner we turned, so I guessed they probably were wonderful.

Every so often, Jasper's cold wet nose would press into my palm, reassuring himself that I was still where I was supposed to be. When we moved upstairs he barked a few times before following my scent upstairs. "Honestly, I thought guide-dogs were supposed to be smart," I muttered.

When it came to the kitchen, Nancy spoke to Charlie more than me – I imagined she thought someone else would be cooking for me. I didn't correct her assumption; it could lead to too many questions about how I cooked for myself, and then what else I could do, and how. If things went to plan, I'd just be a blind woman living in Bruce Wayne's old penthouse, with no one guessing what I intended to be doing.

After about an hour of showing us around, Nancy got a call, so went a little way apart from us to have her conversation. I tried not to focus on it, instead conferencing with Charlie. "What do you think?" I asked.

"Well it looks fabulous," she said. "But for you…do you like it? Could you live here?"

I nodded. "I think so. Plus it has all the space I need…"

"Yeah, for all those glamorous cocktail parties you'll be having," she commented dryly.

"I could have glamorous cocktail parties!" I protested.

"Do you know the names of any cocktails?"

"Oh shut up."

Nancy came back over, a smile in her voice. I already knew what she was going to say; I'd heard her book another viewing over the phone, and the other party had sounded quite enthusiastic. "Well, I have a lot of interested parties, and I've just booked another viewing, so…"

"I'll take it," I said decisively.

---

A/N: So what do you think? Good? Bad? Let me know if you'd like me to continue by reviewing please! And Bruce will actually talk in the next chapter, I promise!