This was not the first time.

Sara Price's life had been ruined before.

She should have learned her lesson, but she had been silly enough—audacious enough to forget. She had supposed when she was finally starting to gather the pieces back together, when she was finally settling into the shadows of her old life and making do with her new one, she was stupid enough to believe things just might turn out okay.

She was wrong.

Snakes and Ladders
Chapter One: Plainsong

"Sara, do you think you could cover my shift tomorrow? I have a date," Tina pleaded with her. Sara rolled her eyes, but with good humor. This was the second time in the month so far and it was still only the eleventh.

"Sure." Sara didn't really mind. In fact, she was more than happy to take as many shifts as she could at the courthouse. It was mind-numbingly boring work but it was easy and paid well enough considering the relative ease. All Sara really had to do was file papers, answer phones, send out envelopes, some data entry here and there, reply to e-mails… yeah. Sara hated her job, but it beat waitressing at the Hanging Garden and she needed the money.

"Thank you!" Tina cried ecstatically. Sara smiled at her bubbly coworker. No doubt, Tina would ask Sara to cover a shift at least one more time in the month. Tina was on a constant for 'the one'. Sara was doubtful such a person really existed.

"Just remember to let Hank know beforehand," Sara reminded.

"Psh. When do I ever forget?"

Sara didn't answer. Otherwise, she would have mentioned the time before last time, and another time a little before that.

"You're so great," said Tina. She smiled conspiringly. "Next time you have a date, just let me know and I will cover you for sure."

Sara nearly burst into laughter. Or tears.

She had turned twenty-four just about a month ago and the last time she had gone out on a date was her sophomore year of college. It brought up fond memories when she thought about the time. Sara had had a casual boyfriend in high school, but it was a sweet and innocent relationship which had ended when they parted ways after graduation. Then, during her freshman year of college, she had been overwhelmed with getting into the new beat of college life, juggling her studies and part-time work.

Sophomore year, she had met Austin. He had reminded her a little of her high school boyfriend, but he had the more sophisticated air of a college student. Austin had been so much more mature and they had adult conversations. Sara had really started to like him, but before it ever got serious, her father had a stroke. She dropped out of college. End of story.

Her last date had been with Austin, when she told him she was going back home. Since then, Sara had simply no time or inclination to date. She had been twenty then, so nearly four years ago. Dear god, she felt pathetic. Twenty-four and still a virgin. At this rate, she was probably going to die one. The saddest thing was that she was reasonably attractive, maybe not exactly sexy, but she had soft, pretty blonde hair, fairly regular features, and a slim figure. You really couldn't go wrong from there.

Maybe she would buy a pint of ice cream on the way home. She was feeling very sorry for herself at the moment. She was feeling so sorry for herself she was even considering getting Ben and Jerry's instead of the Safeway brand, but she knew she wouldn't really get the Ben and Jerry's. It was nearly quadruple the price. Still, she thought about it, at least.

"I know what you are thinking and I disapprove," said Tina. The brunette was pursing her lips into a frown.

Sara glanced up distractedly. "What?"

"You are having a one man pity party. Sara, I will make sure you get a date before the year is out," Tina promised enthusiastically. "Trust me, it won't be hard. Robbie has been drooling over you ever since I've started working here and I know if you showed any interest, Evan or Spencer or any of the others would totally be interested."

"I don't have time to date," said Sara, waving her away with her hand.

"Oh, bull, Sara. You can't waste your whole life away working, and I don't want your excuses."

"It's not bull, and they're not excuses," said Sara irritably. "I have a family to support, bills to pay, big ones, might I add. And after that, there's college for Andrew."

"And what about you? This is not your life," said Tina.

"I'll think about that when Andrew graduates from college and my dad gets better," said Sara.

Tina opened her mouth, about to comment further, but one sharp look from Sara silenced her on the topic. Tina sighed and Sara considered once more, maybe she would get the Ben and Jerry's. Phish Food. She hadn't bought ice cream for herself in a while anyway, and Ben and Jerry's Phish Food really was the best.

Sara had ended up getting Safeway Select Rocky Road, among other things.

"Andrew, I'm home," Sara called as she opened the front door. She pulled out the key and brought the bags of groceries into the kitchen. She went to the living room and frowned. Her little brother was not there. He was usually watching television by this time. Sara walked to his room and carefully opened the door, peeking her head into the darkness.

Andrew was asleep. Sara smiled and quietly made her way inside. She tucked the blankets in and lovingly stroked his hair aside.

This was it, why she had left her old life behind. Her younger brother was only fifteen, an unexpected surprise late into her parents' marriage, a treasure nonetheless. But Andrew had always been a weak and sickly child. He was prone to asthma attacks and had to carry an inhaler on him at all times. After their mother had died in a car accident when Sara was sixteen, her father's health had never been quite the same, and since then, Sara had always been the sort of de facto head of the household.

She had seriously considered going to a college in Gotham, but she had received a neat scholarship to Brown and her father had urged her to go. It was, in hindsight, probably not the best decision she had made in her life. She had been too selfish to observe the signs of her father's diminishing health. If she had noticed earlier, it would have spared them all the trouble. Maybe, if she had stayed and worked to help support their family, her father wouldn't have overworked himself. But there were too many maybes and what-ifs to count. As it was, Louis Price had his first stroke when Sara was away. His second one just the last year had sent him into a coma, in a near-vegetative state leaving him bedridden in the hospital.

She should never have gone to Brown.

Sara sighed and left the room, closing the door behind her. She plopped herself down on the couch after putting away the fruits of her shopping trip and turned on the television. She ate her ice cream straight from the carton with a little dessert spoon and stared mindlessly at the TV screen. Some trashy reality show was playing but Sara didn't bother to change the channel. Her thoughts weren't to the TV anyway.

Tina had been right about one thing.

This was not her life.

Sara had not grown up in the Narrows. Her childhood home hadn't necessarily been in the upper echelons of society, but it had a middle-class respectability, situated far off from the city center. Her friends from high school had all gone off to college, as she had. The only difference was that they had actually graduated and were beginning to settle into their entry-level jobs.

None of them came back to Gotham, except a handful she was never particularly close with. That had been her dream, to find a nice job somewhere in a quieter city, a safer city, making enough money to relocate her brother and father with her.

Aside from Tina at the courthouse, and some of the other waitresses at the Hanging Garden, Sara didn't even really have friends anymore. She couldn't remember the last time she saw her longtime friends from high school and she rarely picked up the phone to keep in touch. Sara knew they didn't like it when she did. She knew they didn't like to be reminded of her existence, her fall from grace. She didn't blame them. She didn't like to be reminded of her old life, either. Instead, she tried to think this was how her life had always been.

This was not her life, and yet it was.

A sudden noise shook her out of her thoughts. She set down the carton and muted the TV. Sara waited. Another loud clashing sound, coming from their little excuse of a backyard. Sara considered for a moment before she decided to get up and see what it was about. She picked up a pan from the kitchen before slowly opening the back door.

She stood outside in the still night air.

Silence, aside from the cricketing of insects.

A sudden movement in the dark had her squinting her eyes hopelessly. She flicked on the light from inside and a horror instantly filled her. Blood pooled in a dark puddle near the gate and before she could make a noise, a hard hand clamped over her mouth. The other hand held her hands together, including the handle of the pan. She didn't dare struggle, but doubted it would be much use if she did. Even from her position, she could feel the powerful muscles encircling her.

And then, the person behind her seemed to lean his body towards her, as if he was unable to stand up on his own. His breaths fell heavily against the side of her face.

Sara's mind whirled.

With all her strength, she pushed her arms out and freed herself from the grip. The pan clattered to the ground and Sara dashed to pick it up. She spun around to face her captor and her eyes nearly fell out of her head when she found she was face to face with him. Batman.

The dark crusader was hunching forwards, breathing raggedly. His teeth were clenched and she could spot the beads of sweat tracing down the uncovered portion of his face.

Her eyes widened when she saw what was handicapping Batman in such a manner. Through the thick Kevlar suit, near his abdomen, there was the bloody mess. It looked as though someone had somehow managed to fire a miniature missile at a short range.

It took only an instant for Sara to push him back, inside to the kitchen. He fell to the floor, red splattering the linoleum. Sara shut the door and locked it. She flicked the switch to the light outside and drew the curtains. She stared down at Batman, unsure of what to think or what to do.

He was a murderer and the police were looking for him, but at the same time, Sara could not forget the fact he did save so many people, even if it wasn't within the law. She knew well the corruptions within the justice system and couldn't really blame one for wishing to take matters into their own hands. She did not doubt the people he killed must have been killed for some reason. However, regardless of whether it was deserved or not, it did not change the fact he had killed them and Sara couldn't find it within the trenches of even her own cynical soul to condone cold-blooded murder no matter how justifiable.

It's what it came down to. Murder. He was a murderer.

Batman had crossed the line.

And yet.

She just didn't know what to do.

Batman groaned and fingered his wound, trying to dig something out. While she was contemplating the situation, he had his mind thoroughly occupied with something else, without so much as a glance to her.

Sara frowned. She clamped her thoughts, resolved not to think anymore. Instead, she just did whatever came first naturally. She opened one of the drawers and fished around until she found a pair of pliers. She knelt down next to him.

"You're just pushing it in," she said.

He lifted his head to meet her face for the first time.

Sara felt his twinge of confusion and she imagined underneath the cowl, he was wrinkling his brow. More concerning was the dim haze in his eyes.

"Here, let me," she said, gently pushing his hand away. He let her.

She studied the opening and saw what he was trying to pull out. Within the mess, there was the small tip of a bullet. Sara's eyes flickered to Batman. "Don't make a sound," she said. "My little brother is sleeping."

Sara put a hand on his chest to hold him still and she lowered the pliers.

"Take it out," he growled when she found purchase on the bullet.

Sara pulled. There was a spray of blood and she immediately dropped the pliers to grab a kitchen towel from the countertop. She pressed it against the wound. When she looked up to Batman again, she noticed the strange cloud in his eyes had lifted. Batman took hold of the towel and Sara let go.

She stood up and drew a glass of water from the faucet. She held it in front of him but he made no move to take it. Sara sighed and it put back in the sink.

"Is there anything you need," she said quietly.

Batman was silent for a while before he said, "Thank you."

Sara nodded her head curtly. She turned her back to him.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom. When I come back, you should be gone."

She left and did not turn back to look at him.

In the bathroom, Sara looked at her reflection in the mirror. There were a few specks of blood on her pale face. She turned on the faucet. When she placed her hands underneath it, the water ran red with blood. Batman's blood.

It still seemed so unreal to her, and so she chose not to think about it.

Sara splashed water on her face, washing away his blood and her sweat.

Brown. Batman's eyes were brown.

She turned off the faucet and waited for another few moments before she finally turned back to the kitchen.

He was gone.

Except for the traces of blood on the floor, the lone bullet and the bloody towel, it was as if he had never been there in the first place. Sara picked up the bullet and towel and threw them in the trash. She placed the pliers in the sink, and then she grabbed a thick wad of paper towels and Windex from underneath the sink.

A spray here. A spray there. A few wipes, and the blood was gone.

There.

Another day in the life of Sara Price. A lunch shift at the Hanging Garden, an evening at the courthouse. A little TV, ice cream for dinner, and to make the day complete, aid and abet a wanted criminal. Murderer, to be exact. Who dressed up in a batsuit. He had to be crazy.

Why had she done that?

Sara didn't know how long she sat on the kitchen floor before her train of thoughts were interrupted for the second time that night. This time, there was a pounding at her door. Sara frowned at the loud noise. It would wake up Andrew if it continued any longer. She walked over to see who it was through the peephole when the door flew open.

She screamed.

Two men in black masks rushed in, the door slamming shut behind them. Sara dove towards the phone but she was quickly apprehended by one of the men. He grabbed her by the shoulders and crashed her against the wall. She gasped at the sudden spark of pain, the wind knocked from her chest.

"Where's the Bat?" he snarled.

"I don't… know… what you're… talking about," Sara managed between shallow, gasping breaths. She struggled to move, but the man held her in place. He swiped a hand to the side of her face in response to her answer.

"Fucking tell the truth, bitch."

"I don't know!"

The man threw her to the floor and Sara cried out on impact. Tears squeezed out of her eyes. She had never been in so much pain before, or so much fear.

"The trace is here," she heard the other man say to the first. "He had to have been here."

Sara had no idea what they were talking about. She willed them to just leave already. And she willed Andrew to stay asleep or just stay where he was.

She heard rummaging in the kitchen, and then the sound of her trash getting kicked to the floor. Under heavy lids she saw one of the men kneeling down, digging through the contents of the spill. When he came back up, he lifted the bullet in his hand.

"They fucking took it out," he swore. He threw the bullet down it disgust. A small clink of metal against the floor and the rattling pans when he kicked the cabinet angrily.

The first man who had held her up earlier delivered a swift blow to her ribs. Sara groaned and curled inwards into a fetal position.

"Bitch!" he said. He lifted her head up by her hair and she winced at the sudden pressure to her head.

"Leave her alone!"

All three heads turned to the hallway.

Sara's heart froze.

Andrew stood with a phone in hand. He was white as a sheet and his hands shook, but there was a defiant spark in his eyes and turn of his mouth.

"I called 911. The police should be arriving anytime soon," Andrew said. There was a tremor in his voice, but he lifted his head when he spoke the words. The defiance in his countenance grew stronger and Sara closed her eyes. She had not known her brother could be so bold. She wished she never did.

The man who had picked up the bullet in the kitchen paced to Andrew in a fury. Sara instinctively endeavored to get to him before he did, but the man who had his fingers caught in her hair shoved her harshly to the floor. The carpet cushioned the blow, but she did not feel its relief because of the foot pressing down heavily on her chest. Her mind clouded. She felt in a daze and she struggled to breathe. She thought she heard Andrew cry out in protest.

Sara turned her head. Pain fogged her senses and she dumbly watched the scene unfold. The man who single-mindedly stomped towards Andrew had him now. He took hold of Andrew by the front of his shirt, lifted him in the air, and punched him. Sara woke up. Her protective instinct flared up again, blazing brighter than before.

"Andrew! Andrew!" Sara shrieked. She struggled to lift herself up against the foot, digging her arms into the ground and pushing all her might upwards. The foot came down on her harder and she heard herself gasping, trying to breathe under the crushing pressure over her ribs. Tears streamed down her cheeks in the effort to breathe, but it continued. The gasping, wheezing, breaths falling heavy again and again…

It was not only her.

"Andrew!" Sara screamed. She placed her hands over the foot immobilizing her. "Please, you don't understand. He's having an attack. He needs his inhaler. Please!"

Another splintering pain and black spots danced in her vision. She thought maybe the foot was gone. It was a little easier breathing, but when she tried to move, she found unspeakable heaviness weighing her down. Time slowed down, or maybe it sped up and she went through the motions slower. She wasn't sure. Nothing made any sense.

A body convulsing.

A body going still.

There were loud, shrilling sirens and the echo of a voice over the megaphone, something about surrounding and sides. The specter of blue and red through the white curtains, casting its shades of color across the wall. The pitter patter of shoes as they ran from window to window. But Sara saw nothing. She heard nothing. She was conscious of the fact she was speaking, but she could not think what.

andrew andrew andrew andrew andrew andrew andrew andrew andrew

"Shut your whining, bitch."

A cuff to her head.

All went black.

A/N: I wrote it! mwaha. Much faster than I thought I would, but after finishing Chiaroscuro, I really wanted to write Bruce/Batman again but make more of a romance. I was this close to making Sara Selina Kyle, however, no matter how much I wracked my brain, it was too difficult to write in Catwoman to the visions I already had of this story. Anyway, this is darker, more action-heavy, plot-heavy, and romance-heavy than Chiaroscuro, not to mention longer.
Enjoy! Hopefully I will churn out chapter two soon enough, but I have been writing a lot this week so I will probably have to slow down since I've been neglecting my school work. :)