A/N) I've hit a dry spell. I am writing random one shots to try and get inspired by one of them. This one was the most inspired piece I've written this month . . . which is saying little.

I decided to expand my scope of AU's, this one is obviously not even close to cannon, Bruce Wayne is like fourteen in this . . . I don't know, I just thought to try out small Bruce because maybe I can get a better feel for big Bruce - and I just really think Kid Bruce going through awkward times and puberty, the Batman went through puberty guys, would be fun.

So here, have a random Baby Bruce shot.


This was a bad idea.

He knew it was, but that stubborn streak just wouldn't allow him to admit it to himself. God, Alfred was going to murder him when he find out.

"The streets are dangerous master Bruce, I won't have you gallivanting 'round unprotected. You could get mugged, or worse."

He'd been right. Of course he had. Alfred was always right. And now here he was, alone, undertrained and running for his well being. These thugs that were after him weren't showing any sign of letting up. They had advantages on him. One, they knew the inside and outs of Gotham streets, two, he didn't and they were much bigger. Three, he still had training to do. He really needs to sign up with a dojo or something.

"Over there! Get the little shit!"

Bruce turns an abrupt edge and scraps his knuckles on the old brick wall. He jumps over cardboard boxes, shocks on old hobo and nearly kills himself by running into a fire escape. His lungs are burning, sweat drips down his neck as he grabs the rusty metal ladder and hoists himself up with some effort. The thing creaks, it's old, the Narrows were old and under kept, especially Crime Ally. But he'd still wanted to see it for himself. Like the idiot he was he wanted to learn about Gotham and what it really means to live here.

He clatters up the metal steps, up, pull, up, pull . . . he can hear them cursing in the ally below, a big one grabs the ladder and pulls himself up. Others follow. Bruce panics for a second until he rolls onto the roof. He gets up, trips, skins his knee, rips his trousers, Alfred's going to have his head for this, and runs smack into another body in his blind attempt to escape being skinned alive.

"Hey! Watch were you're going, Spaz!" A young voice, a girls voice.

Bruce takes a deep breath, eyes wide and blue, hair tousled, face pale. Then he forgets how to breath completely and - just what the hell is he doing again?

In front of him is the most beautiful girl he's ever seen . . . no, wait, a beautiful girl he sees, that's making his heart thump for a reason that has nothing to do with fear. She was shorter than him, sharp faced, wore leather on leather, her goggles hung around her neck, dark hair cut messily and sprung onto an upward short curve all the way around her head and her eyes . . . fierce green, with a fire he'd never seen before.

In the midst of a frightening moment for him, young Bruce Wayne forgets and falls head over heels . . .

"I-I - um, sorry - can -"

"Up there, Sonny, he's here, the little rat, I can smell 'im."

Bruce's world crashes down. He goes stiff. He's stuck.

The girl studies him for a moment before rolling her stunning eyes and grabs his hand, he jolts and lets her pull. "Come on, Spaz, this way. Jump!"

They run, Bruce gasps as she makes them jump right off a corner of the roof. He flails around and just barely makes it to the other side, his muscles burn. He thinks he might have died for a second. His leg burns . . .it's broken. It has to be.

"Get up weirdo, Gotham isn't friendly to wimps." She yanking at him again and he sucks it up and they run.

They keep running until Bruce is pretty sure he's going to pass out . . . or that they'll get lost. Come to think of it - he has no idea where they are. Bloody hell, as Alfred would like to say.

"You ok, kid?"

Kid? Oh, oh she was talking to him. He sits on a crate and nods, trying to breath, shaky hands running through his dark hair. "Thanks."

He cringes and lifts his leg up to himself. "I think . . I'm going to need a splint."

She crouches down and pulls at his pants. Bruce flushes weirdly as he watches her half gloved fingers roll up his ruined trouser leg. "Ooh, not good, I think you sprained it." She then flicks her eyes upwards and looks at him through her thick lashes. "You are definitely not from around here."

He swallows. "I'm. . . Bruce Wayne . . . " Please don't be a psycho thief.

She looks surprised for a bare second. "The Bruce Wayne? The billionaire kid?"

He sucks in a breath and steels himself. "Yes."

She shakes her head. "Boy, are you out of your neighborhood."

"Yah." He lets out a sigh, she wasn't crazy, thank God. "I'm new . . . I guess."

"I'll say, you look like crap. Didn't anyone ever tell you the Narrows is no place for a nice looking kid like you." She shakes her head again and crouches back on her hunches, tilting her head to look up at him like a curious cat.

"Who are you?" He swallows again, his throats dry, he needs a doctor, he must be coming down with something. The overexertion, yes, that should explain his clamminess and jitters and flopping heart and-.

A slow smirk crosses her face. "Most people just call me gutter snipe . . . Selina. Selina Kyle."

Beautiful name. His heart sparks. "Yah, Selina, nice to meet you." He reaches for a hand shake which she returns in an amused fashion. Their hands connect and so do their eyes. Bruce swears a light goes off because their connection lingers and . . . she really was the most beautiful girl he's ever seen.

She slips out of his grip, he clears his throat.

"So . . . grand tour?" She asks, pushing her bangs out of her flawless but a bit dirt smudged face.

Bruce hesitates. "My - my leg?"

"It's been twenty minutes, it's not swollen. It should be fine, but here." She rips at her shirt.

"No - no you don't have to-"

"I didn't like this shirt anyway." She answers and wraps his leg up tight, expertly.

Bruce stares in interest. She notices.

"What? You get bumped around a lot in the streets. You learn a thing or two. Now come on, before I change my mind."

The young billionaire smiles and follows without a thought.

Needless to say, Alfred was not happy when he caught Bruce half bruised trying to sneak back in through the manor window.

Well scolded and punishment set, Bruce lay in bed and couldn't help but think of the fiery girl with the green eyes and smile hoping to see her again.


Does anyone else think that its high time someone rolled out a TV series involving all the Robins? I would watch the hell out of a show with all four batbro's . . . god, just the thought - the shenanigans and adventures and mixture of toxic angst . . .please someone do that? Please!? The Robins need their own show!

Thanks for reading.