I don't own the Dark Knight!

"Do you think she'll be alright here?"

The old man looked out thoughtfully at the lighted cityscape of Gotham, hands clasped behind his back.

"I mean, for the time being."

"Who can say? We don't really know her anymore. She doesn't know this city."

Ice clinked together in the glass dangling haphazardly from Bruce Wayne's hand. "I was looking for some validation, Alfred. I need it."

"You'll take validation, but my advice has always fallen on plugged ears, Master Bruce." He paused, turning from the window to look at the man that he couldn't forget as a boy. "She's been tucked away for nine years, without her brother."

Bruce huffed, sipping his drink with indignation burning in eyes. "Not by blood, mind you."

"No blood between us, Master Bruce. It never caused me to care less."

"Yeah, and I didn't mean it like that," he replied quickly. Alfred smiled.

"I know. Just...be the family that she deserves, and protect her with everything you have."

Being in the limousine was strange. The leather interior was impeccable, the air fresh inside, the driver courteous, but it made her feel small and self-conscious.

She didn't look like someone who needed to be shuffled around in luxury vehicles or offered champagne.

Her lips pursed and cold guilt flooded her.

She did try it, only out of curiosity.

And she continued to try it once the anxiety of being back home and forever away from the boarding school became stifling.

"I'll have to hide the bottle," she murmured to herself, afraid that Bruce would think she was a certain type of girl.

The years between them, the years apart; was it going to be different? How much had he changed? Who was she now, in his eyes?

The girl shook her head, dark hair swishing about her heated cheeks.

Those thoughts would only make things worse. Instead, she peered out from the darkened window and took in the city she'd been sent from years ago. It might as well have been a completely new territory. Nothing was familiar, everything large and tall and bright and fast-moving.

Lost in the bustle, she jumped when the driver lowered the window between them.

"We're just about there, Miss Wayne." He was a younger man. Dark hair and dancing eyes. She immediately looked down at her lap, blushing.

She hadn't been around many men.

Then the limousine was stopping and he was opening the door for her. "We're here, Miss Wayne." He smiled down at her, showing off a dimple.

"Please, just India."

"Sir, there's a woman here for you. She uh, she says that she's family?"

"I'll be right down."

Bruce hung up the phone and sighed.

He couldn't start doubting his decisions, especially with India right there in the lobby, waiting. Alfred had strongly suggested setting her up elsewhere when she arrived, instead of meeting her right at the Enterprise building. At the time, it sounded ridiculous.

But he'd been drinking. Brooding. Exercising his stubbornness. Now, the whole building would soon know of the billionaire's hidden sister. Then the press.

Then perhaps, his enemies.

He stood hastily, straightening his tailored suit with robotic movements he'd made innumerable times.

Time slowed in the bright hallway, nearly crept to a halt in the elevator.

He saw her as soon as the polished doors yawned open, sitting in a corner chair, watching the world move around her at a speed that clearly fascinated her.

She was not a boisterous child anymore. Somehow, she'd become a woman that could stop most men in their tracks with a single glance.

Bruce had to keep the elevator doors from closing with his hand before stepping out slowly and moving towards her.

The receptionist gave him an expectant smile. An intern carrying a full tray of coffees nearly ran right into him. A smartly-dressed woman winked as he passed. He was blind to it all.

Then he was mere feet from her.

"India." Her wide, earthy eyes moved to him and when she smiled, Bruce was blinded by the memories that flashed warm and bright in his mind. His adopted sister rose up slowly, looking at him with unbridled love.

"Oh. Oh, Bruce…"

Her embrace was warm and desperate. He could feel her tremble against him. Ignoring her softness was incredibly difficult.

"It's been too long, kid," he laughed out awkwardly. India didn't seem to notice, pulling away to beam up at him.

Some of her freckles had faded, but a peppering still remained high on her cheeks and nose. The unruly hair that never had a decent brushing throughout her adolescence now framed her face and fell down her back in silken waves. Her green eyes seemed almost oversized years ago. Now, they sat sparkling beneath heavy lids and sooty lashes.

"It's been just...forever," she whispered breathily. "I can't believe I'm here." Bruce smiled, pulling his lingering hands from the small of her back.

"Me neither," he replied, trying desperately to keep composed. "Are you hungry? I know a place just down the block. Or maybe you'd like to rest?"

"A place that you know sounds wonderful, Bruce."

They had walked down the lively sidewalks of Gotham, India's arm latched in the crook of his own, to a small but posh café on a corner. She'd insisted on going without the limousine. The mild weather complimented them.

Bruce felt that they blended in well enough with the many patrons; couples sipping coffee, old money looking over wine lists. Their table was near the front, situated next to a window that allowed India a full view of city life.

"It's very loud here," She mused, hands fidgeting with a sleeve of her modest tan dress. "In Gotham, I mean."

"You get used to it." Bruce sipped his tumbler of top-shelf gin. "I'm guessing it's quite different from your school." India smiled sheepishly.

"Very different. Crickets instead of sirens."

"Miss it already, kid?"

"N-no! It's just, well, like you said. Different." She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, cheeks suddenly pink. "Anyway, I want to hear about what you've been doing all this time. Much more interesting, I should think."

Bruce felt his body tense for a moment. The internal script was there, but his tongue suddenly felt dry and useless. Another sip of gin.

All for the best. She can never know.

"Running the company. Believe me, not so very interesting."

"Oh, I think it is," she chirped, a small hand reaching up to tuck back a troublesome strand of hair. He drank in the gesture like he had his gin.

"I tried to keep up on things while I was away. One of the sisters was kind enough to have the Gotham newspapers sent to the school for me." Her brow furrowed. "It sounds like, um...like there are a lot of dangerous people here."

She was scared.

"Every big city has its fair share of crime," he said nonchalantly, a reassuring smile plastered to his face in a manner which he assumed was very cheesy. India didn't respond. He knew what she was thinking about.

"Things are better here, since Mom and-"

An explosion stopped him short.