Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye.

'There are plenty of villains in Gotham. But there is only one hero. There is only one Batman. Sure, he has his super-sidekicks, but that's all they really are; his helpers. The only individual hero we have in Gotham is Batman. We all know that.'

Even Brianna had to know that.

She sighed and thrust a strand of brown hair away from her face. Brianna was a writer. She wrote for the newspapers, articles on the ever present issues discussed in Gotham. She wanted her own column, and she was getting close.

She had decided that the one thing that would get her that column was an exposé on Batman. Sure, it had been done before, but who ever read those? Everyone? Ok, so maybe everyone did read them, but she wanted to make a defining moment out of a single column about Batman and his villains that no-one else could top.

So far, everything she wrote was trash.

Brianna growled as she quickly backspaced through the paragraph she had rewritten for the umpteenth time. She had wasted almost an hour and fifty minuets at this point. She had finally leaned back in her chair, grumbled, and realized she was getting absolutely nowhere.

Outside of her cramped office the fellow workpeople of her newspaper bustled this way and that, conversing and discussing their ideas. Brianna could hear Kendall blurting out random shit to Yuki out in the hallway, and her scowl only deepened. The blond bimbo was probably freezing her boobs off, what, with the weather outside cooling rapidly and the repair men refusing to yet get the fucking heater finished. Like she would care. She still wore too-low-cut shirts and skirts that were hiked up too high to tempt the passing men in the office a quick glance at her undergarments.

She could imagine Yuki, smiling politely and allowing her to go on. The half Japanese-half American man too nice to simply tell the slut to back off. Brianna liked to think she was friends with Yuki. Hell, everyone liked to think they were friends with Yuki. He was just one of those kinds of people.

However, the thought of him out in the hallway, allowing Kendall to flirt with him simply added more stress into Brianna's life. She glared up at the cracks in the ceiling. Her life was a living Hell.

Explaining her life in a bit more detail might be of more use.

Brianna Clark was currently living her life off of a measly paycheck handed to her every four weeks for doing the job she thought she would love doing. Reporting the life of crime to Gotham every week in the news paper. However, it turned out not to be so easy. Instead, she was paid little, and lived in a crummy apartment not so far from likeliness to the Narrows. No, not far geographically, either.

She had assumed things would get a little better when she met Yuki Nekozawa, the pleasant Japanese-American man that resides very high up in manning the Gotham news papers. He was undeniably cute, with a partially American look to him, and a very Japanese name. Dark black hair and almost white skin, but wide eyes and a tall posture. However, he had a narrow chin, and a thin physique. His eyes were green, as green as the grass in the summer. Well, the grass anywhere but the dingy streets of Gotham where there was no grass. Maybe in Brianna's nanny's garden, instead.

However, all that possible better-ness was swept out the window when Kendall Glenn moved into the office. She was perky, blond, and as stupid as a block of wood. She thought she was everything. To Brianna Clark she was nothing but a pair of boobs. She was sure that was what just about everyone who had ever met her thought, too. Besides her parents; they probably thought she was a very, very disappointing pair of boobs.

Kendall had taken an immediate liking to Yuki, and Brianna couldn't help but take it personally. She felt as this were an attack, just because she had taken a serious interest in pursuing the beautiful young man. She wasn't so sure, however, when that blond ass moved in on him.

Then Kendall got the column, and all because she had boobs. Brianna felt sick whenever she was near her, mostly because she looked like a living Barbie doll. She should be a hooker or something instead of coming into her workplace and taking her man.

Ok, she was being a tad overdramatic. She was stressed! What could she say?

Brianna stood from her chair abruptly and stomped to the door. She could hear Kendall's annoying little titter, and slammed the door shut, cutting off her next couple words. She didn't want to hear it, not when she was trying to work, at least. There was any other time of the day available, just not now.

She sat back down in her chair, her brow furrowed. Suddenly, she smirked.

Yeah, a lot of people on the writing team for the Gotham Daily were definitely pro-Batman. But what if she did something that was against him? That was different from what most people on the paper did. It would stand out, she knew it would.

Besides, it was exactly what she needed, pouring all of her negative energy into dishing it out on the Batman. She liked him well enough. He helped out the city and beat up all the criminals, but she had a feeling there wouldn't be nearly as many criminals if he didn't even exist. A lot of the people on the streets simply wanted him dead, and that's why they were out there. Then again, if he disappeared she was sure that there would be an influx in the number of criminals out there, as well. She didn't mention that last part in her article.

The hours passed quickly. Brianna could admit that she spent most of her time sitting there, annoyance on her face and thinking about Yuki and Kendall and what her editor would think. Her muse simply wasn't completely with her.

Finally, however, she hit the period key for the last time.

Her eyes slid over the technological paper, and slowly a grimace formed on her face. At this time, however, she didn't think that she could possibly write anything better. She edited it to the best of her ability, set to print two of it, (one for her and one for her editor) saved it, and stood to stretch.

When she opened the door, she was greeted with silence. A frown formed on her face; she had worked so long that everyone else had left. She grumbled to herself and made her way to the printer room, in no special hurry to get there. When she did, her article hadn't even finished printing. She hung her head, touching her chin to her chest, tapped her foot, and crossed her arms. She sighed. She blew a raspberry. Finally, the printer was done sputtering some lovely dubstep and grabbed the papers.

She looked over them, before a frown formed on her face. These weren't her-

"Oh, hey. I thought I was the only one left here."

The sound of his cool, relaxed laugh made her freeze in place. Her shoulders stiffened, and her heart seemed to stop in place. Slowly, Brianna turned. Standing there, as if sent by heaven, was Yuki. He smiled at her and she felt her heart jump back to life, working double-time.

"Working hard or hardly working—Brianna, right?" He laughed. Brianna's breath caught as he said her name. Was he singing? He couldn't possibly be singing. Why would he be singing?

She looked around, her messy brown hair falling in front of her face, half expecting Kendall to squeeze out of the fax machine and laugh her bubbly-boob laugh. Scratch that—giggle. Just thinking about it made her wince.

"Th-that was a bad joke, wasn't it?" Yuki stuttered. Brianna snapped out of her thought's and looked up at him, eyes wide and cheek's bright pink.

"N-no! No, it was funny! I-I was just, er…" She sighed as she trailed off. "This is yours." She grumbled, shoving the papers into his chest. He jumped, before finally grasping the papers and giving her an awkward smile. The printer behind her began to sputter again and she turned away, cursing her pink cheeks to hell underneath her breath. She closed her eyes tightly when she realized that she had just made a complete and utter fool of herself right in front of Yuki. She had just stood there, staring at him! He probably thought she was an idiot, and compared to Malibu Barbie. She scoffed and rolled her eyes inwards at her own stupidity.

"I-I w-w-w-was j-j-just, er, uhm…" she mouthed, mocking herself.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?"

The printer spat out the front page of Brianna's expose, con-Batman, and fell silent, finally and gratefully finished with its job. She stared at it for a moment, wondering if she had imagined those beautiful words. If she had been dreaming of it for so long that the words drifted through her mind and became almost tangible. Or, perhaps she had finally snapped after working in this goddamn shit-hole of an office.

"I mean, sometime? W-we don't have to right now, of course. There's always tomorrow…" He trailed off. Brianna turned around and stared at him. He was still standing there. She wasn't imagining this. "Never mind. Obviously you're busy. Right? Sorry I asked-"

"No!" Brianna yelped as he turned around and he jerked to a stop. He spun on his heel unsteadily and looked at her, eyes wide. Her face blazed red in embarrassment as she realized that she had just yelled at him. She had just yelled at Yuki, of all the fucking people- "I-I mean, uh." Brianna squeezed her eyes shut. 'Words, Brianna, words! They're your life, you should know them!' "I would love to go to dinner with you."

When she opened her eyes, Yuki was still standing there, looking relieved.

"Great! That's—that's great." He smiled at her and she almost fainted then and there. She felt woozy, and prayed to whatever god was up there that she wouldn't vomit on his shoes. "I-I'll pick you up—tomorrow—at, uhm, eight? Eight is good for you, right?"

Brianna nodded pathetically and his smile widened.

"I'm just gunna…" he awkwardly gestured to the door. "Bye." He turned and walked away, glancing over his shoulder once and almost tripping over his own wobbly feet. Brianna hardly noticed. She was staring, but she wasn't seeing.

Had that really just…?

She looked down at her shoes, then up at the ceiling, trembling. An irresistible urge came over her and she couldn't stop herself. She jumped up and down, her eyes screwed shut, the brightest smile on her face ever as she did a little dance in place, spinning around and running on the spot, her hands clenched in a fist on her paper, crumpling it like mad in the process. She didn't care. Yuki Nekozawa had just asked her out. Yuki fucking Nekozawa! She squealed silently, her grin unable to get any wider. It simply was impossible!

When her heart rate finally went down and her head was clear after several unsteady breaths, she made her way to drop off her paper at the editor's desk with a smile. Finally—it seemed like life was going her way.

That is, until she woke up the next morning.

She groggily opened her eyes, rubbing them on her forearm and sighed, staring up at her ceiling. It was covered in cracks and water stains, and she could hear the person above her peeing, for god's sake. She grumbled to herself, before she realized something was wrong. The person above her was never up before her, not ever.

Her head shot to the side and her eyes widened, taking it in. Then she leapt out of bed at speeds that would have surprised her, were she not so infuriated.

"Fucking shit alarm clock!" She shrieked as she tried to make herself look relatively decent. She raced around her apartment, jumping into a pair of pants she was pretty sure she wore two days ago, but she didn't care. Her job was on the damn line.

Brianna ran a brush through her messy, dull brown hair and, in a sense of hurry, poked herself in the eye trying to get her contacts in.

"Screw it!" She shrieked, grabbing her old pair of glasses and abandoning the mess she had made. She raced out of her apartment, clutching her bag in her hands. A paper fluttered out behind her in the hallway and she gave it no attention, stuffing the rest of the pages that were desperately trying to get away back into the folders they belonged in.

She made it to the parking lot, stumbling across the pavement on heels she should be used to by now, and decided from now on it would be Chuck Taylors on her feet, no exceptions. She threw her stuff in, paying no heed to the fact that she would have to pick it up later, and jumped into the driver's side of her car. She jammed the key in the ignition, and turned it.

The car sputtered, then stopped, sputtered, then stopped again.

Brianna shrieked in indignation.

"You will start, you goddamn piece of shit, or so help me I will rip you limb from greasy fucking limb and sell you for parts!"

As if frightened by her enraged the car jumped to life. She grinned a nasty grin that was without happiness at her success and sped out of the parking lot.

She ran two red lights, but she didn't care. She probably wouldn't get a ticket, anyway. The cops were too busy dealing with bigger criminals than those who ran a bloody light in an intersection with barely any traffic.

When she made it to the office, she was practically crushing her teeth into her gums. She shot into a parking space, almost hitting the car in front of her, and grabbed her folders before rushing inside.

When she stepped into the office, she realized immediately that all eyes were on her. Brianna froze, before taking a deep breath and swiftly ignoring the stares. So she was late; big fucking deal. She kept her head high and walked through the office, ignoring the looks. At least, until Kendall walked past her, chatting amiably with none other than Yuki.

Brianna stumbled, almost falling flat on her face before catching herself on someone's desk. She froze, glancing sideways at the rather bulky man who was sitting there. He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes a strange forest green and Brianna had to double check herself. Had she seen this man before?

She blinked. Of course she did; he worked in her office.

Brianna stood quickly, brushing down her shirt, and swiftly came face-to-face with another one of her co-workers.

"The boss wants to see you in his office," he said, smirking sourly at her. "He's been asking for you all morning." With that he walked away, sashaying across the office and Brianna came close to following and ripping his pretty little perm right out of his head. Swiftly, she got herself in check and turned towards the door marked 'Editor; Mark Richards.'

She grumbled to herself and walked across the office, wondering if this was it. She was going to be jobless, living in the Narrows, trying to make ends meet and only meeting the end of some rapists mea-

The pushed open the door and was greeted by the strong smell of coffee and printer ink, both things that she had never really enjoyed the smell of. She didn't understand why Richards could stand it twenty four seven—then again, he reeked of it, otherwise, so he probably didn't even notice.

"Clark! You're late!" He barked. Brianna opened her mouth to make an excuse, but she should have known better than that. "Nevermind, shut the door. Get in here."

Brianna sighed and shut the door, stepping in and sitting down in the chair in front of him. He looked at her, his eyes accented darkly by his large eyebrows and Neanderthal forehead. He always seemed to be glaring at people. He was much too gruff to be placed in an office building; Brianna had always thought that he would look much better in a construction site somewhere.

She couldn't deny the fact that he was good at his job, however. Despite how hard it was to admit, he was a genius of a man when it came to what the people wanted to hear. He was often spitting about how the rest of his crew was made up of incompetent fools and he could do the job by himself if he needed to, but the truth was he probably couldn't. Brianna had enough sense in her to know that he needed some of those people out there to get anywhere.

She paused, taking a couple seconds to register what he had just said before knitting her brows together, frowning.

"Wait, 'Nevermind?' What's going on-"

"If you would sit still for a minute and listen I'd tell ya'!" He barked, shooting a glare at her as he lounged in his seat. Not leaving any time for her to say something, even if she wanted to, he continued. "I got your entry last night. Thought it was pretty good. So I sent it up."

Brianna's eyes widened. He… sent it up? The corners of her mouth twitched, and she felt the beginnings of a smile. That was a big thing—to have the articles sent to their higher-ups was huge. The people that ran the paper were said to be snobby—and they ran more than just the paper, so Brianna figured they had some right. They worked a lot on media, so they had news stations and some other fun stuff like that running through Gotham.

"They're… well, they're impressed. They wanna put your story on the cover—after some revising, of course, and they wanna see what else you got."

Brianna stared at him, her smile slowly turning into a grin. Richards gave her an annoyed look.

"Well? Get back to work!" He yelped, and she nodded, quickly jumping out of her seat.

"Thank you, so much! You won't regret it, I swear!" She laughed, and he rolled his eyes. She knew what was left unsaid, however. Sure, the best pieces always got the front cover—usually it was assigned, but on special occasions, like this one, it could be given to someone else. 'They wanna see what else you got.' That meant that she was in the running to get her own column. She struggled to resist jumping up and doing a little jig right then and there.

"Get out of here, Clark." She nodded, still grinning, and turned and walked out of the office. She was making front page! Her story! She looked out at all of the people in the office, those who stared at her, and she found Kendall in the small mass of bustling human-beings. Her nose twitched, her eyes narrowed. She was better than that no-good Barbie-bitch; she had made front page, while the blond idiot was still on thin ice trying to prove herself to the higher-ups. And, even better—it was a fucking Friday.

Yeah. Life was hella good.

A/U: Hello. :) I thought I might as well hop on this Dark Knight bandwagon before it's too late. D: I have a feeling, however, that the Dark Knight Rises is going to drag this fanfiction catagory to the top of the popular movies list. The first line is based on a nursery rhyme, a theme I plan on keeping throuought the story, at least until the lines run out. There are only eight, after-all, and I hope that this story will be longer than 8 chapters.

I do not own Batman Begins, The Dark Knight, or The Dark Knight Rises, nor anything or anyone affiliated with each movie.