Snickerdoodles

Rain fell in sheets on Gotham. The rain hadn't stopped for almost three days. While most of the city had barricaded itself indoors, the Batman was still patrolling the flooded streets. Criminals didn't hide from the rain, so justice was still needed.

Batman sat crouched on the edge of a rooftop with his cloak billowing behind him in the wind. It was late, and he was unusually drowsy. While crime had been occurring over the past few rainy days, today had been slow for him. He had only broken two sets of kneecaps! Either his game was off or even the criminals had grown tired of being soggy.

CRASH!

"Finally," Batman murmured, diving down into the alley below.

Someone had been shoved into a set of trashcans at the end of the alley. To his right Batman glimpsed a flash of red hair amongst the overturned bins, and then to his right he saw a quick flash of a man fleeing.

"I'll be back in just a minute," Batman barked in the direction of the mane of red hair. With that, he sprinted after the man.

One would think muggers would have given up in Gotham. A snatched purse earned a man a broken leg. A stolen laptop meant a shattered hand. And if a child witnessed or experienced a mugging, the mugger would end up in Gotham Central Hospital with an IV, a concussion, and no idea what had happened to them.

The mugger that night wasn't even that quick. He appeared to be the turtle of the muggers. Batman caught up to him within seconds and roundhouse kicked him to the ground.

"What'd you take from the girl?" he yelled in the man's face, Batman's hands gripping either side of his black hoodie.

"Jesus man! All she had was a platter of cookies and a few bucks in her pocket!" The guy was trembling. He sure talked like he wasn't scared, but his body language didn't match up. "Look, here's the cash. Take it back to her! Let's just call it even!"

Batman let out a particularly dark laugh. "Even? I think I'll let you see even." As Batman lifted the guy into the air, the pathetic little man squeaked. With one swift motion, Batman launched the sad excuse for a thief into the nearest alley.

"Uhhhhghhhh," the thief moaned amongst the clattering trashcans.

"Now that's even," Batman muttered.

"Your money." Batman extended a small wad of cash to the redhead in the alleyway.

He had returned to the alley immediately. The young woman was almost in the exact same place that he had left her. However, she had stood up and recovered her plate of cookies. The plate had a large crack in it, and the cookies appeared to be quite smashed.

The Bruce side of Batman could not help but notice that the young woman was beautiful. She had soft red hair and big doe eyes. Even though the mugging had left her ruffled and a bit dirty, it was still clear that she had spent a lot of time pulling a flattering outfit together.

"Thank you," she said, looking directly into his eyes. "I just got to Gotham for my new job and I was lost and then that guy snatched my spare money – and well, thank you."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm much better off than my snickerdoodles, anyway." She offered him a gentle smile. "Well, thank you – er, Batman, is it?" She motioned towards the emblem on his chest.

"Go find yourself a cab. And welcome to Gotham."

Before she could respond, he was gone.

"Master Bruce, there's a lovely young lady at the front door," Alfred called from the entrance of the Batcave. "She says she was just hired by the new clothing company you kick-started."

With a sigh, Bruce eased himself out of his computer chair and pulled down his cowl. "I'll be up as soon as I slip out of this."

Alfred disappeared back into the house. Bruce ran a hand through his short, sweaty hair, mussing it up into what looked like bedhead. He started to exchange his costume for the clothing that Alfred had brought down at some point: a slightly wrinkled t-shirt, cotton pajama pants, and a thick bathrobe that cost more than a slightly used car. As he walked out of the cave, all he could think about was wanting to fall asleep in those pajamas that saw such little use.

As Bruce was passing the sitting room on his way to the front door, he glimpsed someone perched on one of the formal, uncomfortable-looking couches. Slowing down, he took in black ankle pants, a red polka dotted blouse, black penny loafers, and a familiar mane of wavy red hair. On her lap rested two plates of cookies, one saran-wrapped plate on top of the other one. It was the girl he helped the night before. She had been the only person he had helped that night.

"Good morning Mr. Wayne," she said, standing slowly as he entered the room and clutching her cookies tightly.

"Good morning Miss…" He trailed off. His company may have hired her, but he certainly had not been personally involved in the hiring.

"Jane Bennet. Your company just gave me a job, and I wanted to come and thank you. I do hope that I didn't wake you."

"You didn't Miss Bennet," Bruce replied quickly. "I was just about to sit down for some breakfast. Would you like to join me?"

She shook her head. "I don't want to intrude. Oh! I baked you some snickerdoodles. That's why I'm here after all." Jane held out one of the plates.

Bruce's hand brushed Jane's as he accepted them. "That's very sweet. Is that other plate for your new workmates?"

The apples of Jane's cheeks flushed pink. "Um, actually, they're for a man who helped me out last night. I was going to stop by the police station to see if anyone could get them to the man."

"Would this 'man' be the infamous Batman?"

"Infamous? He saved me from a mugging!" Jane's nose crinkled slightly with her frown.

"He has a very mixed reputation in this town. He's both loved and hated. A lot of the police force would laugh in your face if you tried to leave cookies for him."

"Oh…"

"But I could give them to Commissioner Gordon for you. I know him well, and he knows Batman well. Or at least he knows him as well as is possible."

"Please do! That would be wonderful. Thank you again Mr. Wayne." She passed him the second plate. "I'll see myself to the door now. Have a good morning."

Later that evening, Alfred noticed one of the plates in the Batcave with nothing left but crumbs and a small note written loopy cursive resting next to it –

Thank you Batman. I can't properly thank you for how you helped me. I hope that you at least like cinnamon.

Your friend,

Jane Bennet

The end.