Bruce hadn't told anyone that he'd seen her. He went back to the auction when he could process what had happened; smiled and made polite conversation, even bid on an item, until Alfred came to pick him up. It was like he was on autopilot, simply going through the motions while his mind whirled, trying to process.

It didn't take long for the Blakes to notice that something had been taken – in her haste, the girl hadn't returned the room to its pristine state. If she had, Bruce was willing to bet that her crime would have been discovered much later. But despite her rush to get away, the girl hadn't left anything behind. There were no leads, and he knew that he should come forward and tell the police what he knew. The GCPD was working overtime to find the culprit, but their search was too wide. Bruce knew that he could further their investigation – knowing that the thief was a girl no older than her early twenties would narrow the parameters considerably.

And yet he hadn't said anything to anyone. Not even Alfred. Instead he'd cloistered himself in his father's old study – his study now – and pored over each and every detail, refusing to forget anything that had transpired. He'd even had police reports delivered detailing robberies from the past year, looking for connections. The rational part of his mind reminded that withholding what he knew was obstruction of justice, or could even have him branded as an accessory. And the police would be by any day now to interview potential witnesses from the auction. Bruce still had no idea what he would tell them. One thing that he was sure of was that he wanted to find her.

"You look busy," Alfred said a few days after the auction, coming in with a covered tray of food. Bruce had forgotten to eat. Again. "Trying to do the police's job for them?"

"I was there," Bruce said, trying to keep his expression as blasé as possible . "It's interesting. And besides, it's not like I have anything else to do."

"So you forgot." Bruce looked up curiously. Forgotten what? "You have to go to the sponsor's event at St. Bart's, downtown." Bruce groaned and rolled his eyes. He had forgotten. "Come now, Master Bruce, your parents funded that orphanage, and you only have to go once a year."

"Two events in one week, Alfred?" Bruce complained, knowing full well how petulant and childish he sounded. He didn't have time for public appearances; he wanted to keep working on the case.

"One week of keeping up appearances and then you can be an eighteen-year-old recluse again. Now eat something and get changed." Bruce rolled his eyes, but closed the file without further protest. Besides, he'd always liked visiting the orphanage. It was a tribute to his parents, and proof that their philanthropy lived on still.

St. Bart's had been a pet project of his parents', and a smashing success when the whole city thought it was insane for the richest couple in the city to invest in orphaned by gang violence. But they'd ignored the critics and poured millions of dollars into a state of the art facility that would cater to the children's every need. Bruce had actually thought that he'd be send there when his parents had been killed, before he knew that Alfred had been instated as his legal guardian.

"This neighborhood continues to be depressing," Bruce commented as the car drove through the Narrows. Bruce knew that his parents had built here because of the gang activity, but he couldn't help but think that it put the children in danger to remain in the area where their parents had been killed. Bruce hadn't returned to the theater district since it all had happened, not even five years later.

"Well not everyone can live on White Hill," Alfred said coolly and Bruce felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"Sorry." He didn't speak again until they arrive at St. Bart's, where a smiling woman was waiting for them.

"Mr. Wayne," the woman said cheerfully, her cheeks pinched so tight that it was a wonder her skin didn't crack. "My name is Mary Johnson, I'll be showing you around today."

"Pleasure," Bruce said, shaking her hand. Mary turned and ushered them into the orphanage, quickly going on about how much of an impact his parents made, how their loss affected the city, everything Bruce had heard a thousand times before. He tuned out after about a minute, preferring to see how the orphanage had changed in the last year. For one thing, no one was around. Every other time he'd ever been there it had been abuzz with activity; children running to and fro, embarrassing the administrators, and making one hell of a racket. But now it was quiet ad still.

"Where is everyone?" Bruce asked, interrupting. "Has something happened?"

"No," Ms. Johnson said quickly, too quickly. "Nothing at all."

"Here's the thing about Bruce Wayne," a familiar voice said, walking up behind them. "He really doesn't like being out of the loop."

"Detective Gordon," Bruce said, recognizing the voice immediately.

"Jim, please," the detective said, shaking Bruce's hand. "Nice to see you Bruce."

"Likewise." Bruce hadn't seen Jim Gordon much since he'd be assigned his parents' case, but the detective had practically lived at Wayne Manor during the investigation. He'd always been kind to Bruce, keeping him updated on the case and any new evidence that came up, even offered him help on Bruce's pet investigative projects. Bruce wouldn't admit that his little detective hobby was inspired by Gordon's work.

"And to answer your question, one of the boys has gone missing. He was last seen on Monday, and hasn't been heard from since." The same day as the burglary at the Blakes, Bruce thought idly. "Ms. Johnson," the detective said, turning to the administrator. "I found someone who I think might be able to help. This is Selina – " Jim turned as if to introduce someone, but there was no one there. "God dammit," he swore.

"Lost someone?" Bruce couldn't help but ask.

"Yeah, local girl. She knows the kids. I thought she could help."

"Local?" Ms. Johnson repeated with some distaste. Jim fixed her with a cool stare and Bruce suddenly could imagine him sitting across the table from a suspect, glaring them down.

"Yes, she lives in the neighborhood."

"Well I'm sure she's already looking around," Bruce jumped in, trying to relieve the tension. "And I'd like to help, in any way that I can." He wasn't exactly qualified, but Bruce knew several of the children housed here; maybe they'd be more likely to talk to him than the police.

"I would appreciate the help," Jim said. He grinned. "Welcome to the force, Detective Wayne."


"Shit," Selina swore, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. She had to be cursed, or paying for the crimes of a past life. There was no way that her luck could be this bad. What were the odds that she would see Bruce Wayne twice in a week?

It seemed like she was going to get away with it – with everything. Wayne hadn't seen her face and had no way of tracking her down, and it seemed like he was going to keep his mouth shut. Selina was beginning to relax.

Then the cop showed up. Not at her place, thank God, but too close for comfort.

"Selina Kyle?" a voice called as she walked into her favorite coffee shop. Selina turned, pulling the faux-fur hood of her coat up, evaluating the stranger. He was tall, taller than her, with short-cropped hair and intense eyes on a serious face.

"Who's asking?" she asked, trying to keep her voice polite. Gerard had given her messages via currier before and she didn't want work getting back to him that she was ungrateful for the work.

"Detective Jim Gordon," the man said and Selina felt her stomach swoop. She knew that name, and now that she looked closer, she recognized his face. He was older for sure, but it was him. "Don't run," he said quickly, no doubt seeing Selina about to bolt. "I'm not here to arrest you."

"What do you want?" Selina demanded through her teeth. "How do you know who I am?" And why wasn't he here to arrest her? There was no innocent reason for a GCPD cop to come looking for her. She'd had run-ins with the police before and they were sadistic bastards, the lot of them, willing to beat a confession out of anyone they could get their hands on in order to close a case quickly. Selina had come too close to being their scapegoat more than once. She wasn't getting put on the rack again.

"I'm investigating the disappearance of Tommy Vasquez, and I was given your name by some of the kids I interviewed earlier." We need to have a talk about ratting to cops, Selina thought before the rest of what he'd said hit her. Tommy. Tommy was gone. "He was last seen on Monday of this week." Selina's heart dropped even lower. The day of the heist. She'd seen Tommy that night, she'd given him some cash for junk food. "Look, kids go missing all the time, I know that. But I want to find this kid and you're the only lead I have. Please." Selina blinked, reevaluating. If she didn't know better, she would swear that he was sincere. But sincere and the GCPD were not two things that went hand-in-hand.

"Fine," Selina hissed under her breath, her eyes darting left and right. "Go get me a coffee, milk and sugar. I'll meet you there."

"Wha – "

"I want to find Tommy," Selina said quickly. "But I'd also like not to die, and talking with cops is the fastest way to get a bullet in the head." Gordon's eyes tightened, like the idea of casual murder upset him. Selina wasn't as bothered. This was Gotham, and people died every day. She'd grown up with that hanging over her head, and as crazy as it sounded, it was something you got used to. "Go. Milk and sugar. Don't tell anyone you're a cop." Selina brushed by him, slipping her hand into his pocket and lifting his badge, just in case. There were eyes everywhere and if he was searched, she'd rather he not have it on him. It was safer for everyone that way.

It didn't take Selina long to get the orphanage, even without a ride. Most people underestimated how quickly you could get from one place to another if you went over the rooftops.

"Took you long enough," Selina said when Gordon finally caught up to her.

"Well I took some time looking for my badge," he said, glaring at her. Selina shrugged and tossed it back to him.

"If someone saw you flashing your badge all over the place, we'd both die, and I like living. Coffee," she said, stretching out her hand. He handed over the to-go cup reluctantly, obviously regretting his decision to seek her out for help. "Please and thank you."

"Why do you care? About this, about Tommy?" Selina asked as they walked through the wrought-iron gate. "You're a cop and he's a street kid. What am I missing?"

"I was on his parents case," Gordon said after a moment's pause. "I was the one who brought him here. I…"

"Feel responsible." Selina finished when he trailed off. "Gotcha."

"Looks like we've got company," Gordon said, opening the door.

"Where is everyone? Has something happened?" a familiar voice was saying as they walked in. Selina froze as she recognized Bruce Wayne standing with a woman in a suit, no doubt one of the administrators of the orphanage. Shit, she swore, ducking her head and flying up the staircase. She crouched at the top, listening to Gordon talk to the prince of Gotham like they were old pals until he finally noticed that she was gone. Of course they were friends, and of course they would be together. The kid and only witness to her heist at the Blakes, and the cop would arrest her for it. Perfect.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Gordon said, finding her at the stair landing.

"Looking for kids to interview while you were chatting with a billionaire. And next time don't give out my name," Selina said coldly. "You and I are not friends, or partners, or anything, and I don't want anyone knowing I'm here. Or anyone else."

"Fine. Just don't disappear on me again, okay?"

"Yeah I'm not going to promise that," Selina said. "Keep me away from Wayne. I don't like bluebloods," she said when he gave her a look. "Call it a chip on my shoulder." Call it a chance that Wayne would recognize her and call her out in front of a god damn cop.

"I'll keep you separate, just go talk to kids," Gordon said, rolling his eyes. He thought she was petty, a girl from the Narrows who hated billionaire Bruce Wayne because she was jealous. Selina didn't mind; she preferred petty to guilty. Besides, she was here to find Tommy. Avoiding Wayne was just making things interesting.

It just didn't make sense. Why would Tommy run? There wasn't a better place for abandoned kids in Gotham, let alone the Narrows. He had everything he needed, food, clothing, a roof over his head. Why would anyone leave?

You did, a small voice reminded her. This was the only place that was safe for you and you left. Selina shook her head, banishing the thought to the back of her mind.

"Knock, knock," she said, tapping on a door she knew. "How's my girl?"

"Lina!" A little girl with dark hair sprang out of bed and tackled her midsection in a hug. "Lina you're back, I missed you!"

"I missed you too," Selina said, lifting the girl onto her hip. "God you've gotten big, Jeannie. You're going to be picking me up soon." Jeannie smiled and buried her face in Selina's neck. "Jeannie, I need to ask you something. Do you know where Tommy went?" Selina loved the little girl, but she also knew that Jeannie was the worst sneak to come out of the Narrows in years. She saw everything.

"I saw him go down the street," Jeannie said, eager to please. "He didn't come back after that."

"Which street?" Selina asked. "It's important, Jeannie, which street?"

"I can show you," Jeannie said, wriggling out of Selina's arms and running to the window. With practiced ease the little girl threw the window open and scrambled out, climbing easily onto the roof. Selina followed her without question. The kids had seen her come in and out through the windows so many times it was natural that they would follow suit. But it still made her nervous. "He went down there," Jeannie said, pointing down a side-street. "He said he would bring me back a Kit-Kat but he never came back. Where'd he go?"

"He'll be home soon." Selina said, not meeting her eyes and hoping the lie would stick anyway. "I'm gong to bring him back."

"Hey!" someone shouted from the ground below. "Jesus Christ Jeannie, get back inside!" Jeannie snickered and slid down the sloped roof, making Selina's heart jump.

"That's Joseph," Jeannie said happily, swinging on the window and into her room. Selina followed suit, leaping through the window and landing on her feet. "He's funny." Jeannie leaned forward as if she was sharing a secret. "He thinks I'm going to fall. I'm not going to fall." She stiffened suddenly, scuttling sideways so that she was hidden behind Selina. Selina looked up to see what had spooked her and froze.

"Hi, sorry, I didn't know anyone else was in here." Bruce Wayne said, inclining his head politely. Selina's mind raced, trying to find an exit. She couldn't leave Jeannie without an explanation and Wayne didn't know her face, but he'd heard her voice. "I'm – "

"Bruce Wayne," Selina cut him off, making her voice high and breathy. "I know who you are." She turned from him abruptly and knelt by Jeannie. "Don't tell him who I am," she whispered in the little girl's ear, trusting her not to ask any questions. "Tommy will be back soon, okay?" Jeannie nodded solemnly and Selina stood again. "Nice to meet you," she said, brushing past Wayne and escaping into the hallway.

"Wait!" Wayne said, trailing behind her, and Selina couldn't help but think back on the last time he'd chased her down a hallway. "You know my name, what's yours?"

"The whole world knows your name," Selina snapped, the effect a little less impressive in her affected, airy voice. "And no one even knows that Tommy is missing."

"So you know the kid who's gone?" Wayne pushed, not taking the hint. "Do you know all of them? Did you live here or something?" Selina stopped dead in her tracks and Wayne froze along with her, obviously realizing what he'd said. Kids who ended up at St. Bart's had parents murdered by the mob. "I'm sor – "

"My parents are dead," Selina said coldly, meeting his eyes for the first time. "Looks like we have that in common." It was cruel and a low blow, but it gave her the opportunity to get away. She'd gotten what she needed anyway. There was a bodega down the street where Tommy had been last seen, and Selina didn't want to spend any more time in the company of cops and billionaires. As soon as she was sure that Wayne wasn't following her, she slipped out a window onto the fire escape and climbed down to the street.

Damn Jim Gordon and damn Bruce Wayne. It took a Narrows kid to find one, and they were proving worse than useless. She didn't need either of them. Selina would find Tommy on her own.