Authors Note:I hope you all are enjoying my little fanfiction piece! Don't forget to leave comments! I love hearing everyone's opinions! :)

My mind was still reeling the next day over Bruce's offer. Move in Wayne Manor? With the Bruce Wayne? The idea was absolutely insane, yet so tempting. I could escape from the Narrows and live a good life again, just like when I was younger. I wouldn't have to worry about murders or break-ins or rapists on the streets...but I knew I could never accept it. As nice as Bruce had been, I couldn't bring myself to just impose so suddenly. We had known each other for less than a month. Why was he so willing to help? It was like he was hiding something, like he knew something that I didn't. I hadn't gotten myself any closer to finding things out about his odd life, I had just managed to make everything even more confusing, after over-hearing his conversation with Alfred, things got even worse. Who is Bruce Wayne?

"Miss Sarah! Tommy is pulling my hair again!" A curly-haired girl broke through my reverie, her tiny hands on her hips as she gave me a look that I had grown used to. She would make one heck of a teenager, she already acted like one at 5 years old. "Where is he?" I asked, letting her lead the way. Tommy Kyle, a 6 year old bully with a passion for pulling on girls hair and biting, had managed to land himself in trouble yet again. He was in his 7th foster home in only 2 years, a large feat for such a small child. I had never met such a trouble kid before, even after 5 years of working up close and personal with the foster care system. He was a bad case, but I knew he could be saved. He just needed the right person in his life, and I hoped I could set a good example until he was shipped away yet again.

Sure enough, Tommy sat in the corner, an arrogant look on his pinched face. "She started it." He grumbled, refusing to look my way. The floor, after all, was much more interesting.

"Then how 'bout you come over here and explain to me just what happened, Tommy? Or should we hear Abby's side of the story first?" Abby stuck out her bottom lip, prepared to use her puppy dog face if need be. She knew that she was good at getting her way.

"She made fun of me." He spoke up, staring her down as she continued her pout. "She said I was stupid and that's why mommy didn't want me no more." His southern twang slipped out, already disappearing after a couple months in Gothom. He came here from Florida, like many of the other children, he'd seen his fair share of the world. His mother, a drug addict, traveled anywhere that offered drugs and men and found her way in Gothom City before dropping him off behind a dumpster, promising that she would return with food.

Of course, she never came back.

"Tommy, you know that's not the truth. She just wanted to give you a better life. You aren't stupid, you just need to try a bit more and act a little nicer, okay?" I chucked his chin, forcing him to look my way. His dark blue eyes found my brown ones and I swear, I saw tears just lurking beyond the lids. He was so strong for a little boy and it broke my heart, knowing he didn't feel safe and secure enough to let out his emotions. "And Abby, if I hear you being mean to him again, no matter what he did or said, you will be suspended from lessons for two weeks. Got it?" For a 5 year old, she was extremely driven and passionate about music, specifically the piano, and I knew the threat would keep her out of trouble. Unlike Tommy, she was an easy enough case and it was easy to change her mind about things.

She snuffled, head full of curls bouncing. "Fine, Miss Sarah." And with that, the drama of the day was over. Typically, the kids refrained from acting up too badly so they could just get everything over with as soon as possible, but I normally expected one break-down a day. When working with troubled children, you had to expect imperfection.

I worked for my remaining 3 hours, attempting to decide on my answer to Bruce. I couldn't accept it, obviously, but I had to come up something to say to him...I had no reason to refuse it, no reason behind staying in the Narrows and he would most definitely use that to his advantage. We had dinner plans this evening and I just hoped I wouldn't make a fool out of myself.

The moment I grabbed my purse from it's hook, I had children hanging on my leg, begging me to stay for just a few minutes longer. As usual, leaving was the hardest part of the day, especially for Abigail. Every evening, I felt like I was abandoning them all. If I could just get away from the Narrows...I could adopt a few of my own one day. I knew what foster homes could be like, and all but one of mine had been absolutely terrible. I could help change some minds, help children find an escape and offer them a home, not just a quiet place with music. Maybe I could mention something to Bruce, after all, he was there once, right?

"Guys, I'll be back on Monday, I promise. I have to get going now, be good for Emily!" Emily, a saintly woman in her mid 30's, was my partner in crime at work. She had a heart of gold and I had never seen her get frustrated with the children, hence why she got the later shift, when the kids were more hyper. "Good luck with Mr. Wayne!" She yelled out, taking a seat while the kids settled in at the T.V. We basically ran a big daycare, giving foster families a chance to get a break from the hardships of having troubled kids and letting the kids focus on creativity and fun instead of school 24/7. The shift started at 12AM, right after the youngest got out of school, and ended at 8PM. It was a hard job, but fulfilling.

"Thanks, Em! Call me if you need me!" I threw my hood over my hair, rain pounding on the concrete. Typical day in Gothom, I thought, thankful I had a car to escape to. After the "incident" I had become more careful than before, even in the good parts of the city.

I drove a quick 5 miles to Stacy's apartment building, rain dripping down from the old roof. Even the nicer parts of Gothom had their faults.

The rain continued on as I climbed out of the car, clothes soaked by the time I got to her door. According to her, my clothes were all unworthy of Bruce Wayne's presence, and she had plans for me. Despite my insistence that we were just friends and would only ever be friends, she was adamant on making him fall in love with me.

"Sarah! Come on, I already have two dresses set out for you..."

The evening with Bruce went well, and one dinner turned into two, then three, then four. I found myself there almost every other day, getting a peek into the billionaire's life outside of models and money, as the paparazzi said. I had been noticed a week or so ago, people growing suspicious when they saw my old car around the manor that is typically only home to sports cars that cost more than my whole apartment building. So far, the rumors remained nice enough, people suspecting that I was either a secret long-term girlfriend or perhaps a long lost family member. Bruce and I had chosen to remain silent on the matter until that was impossible.

Still, I had no leads on who he really was. I hadn't seen one hint of his playboy lifestyle, nor had I been chased away by his apparently dumb mind. Everyone assumed that he was an ignorant, stupid playboy who got everything handed to him on a silver platter, but for some reason, I doubted that.

And I still hadn't given him my answer about living there.

He had asked several times, wanting my decision, but I hadn't decided yet. The Narrows grew weirder and weirder every day, murders popping up everywhere and no leads to be found. This just spurred him on, using it as another excuse to get me out of that area. "They aren't people to mess around with, Sarah." He insisted, "If they got to you, they wouldn't play nice." For some reason, I suspected that he knew something about the criminals. His worry for me was too serious. Either that, or he was just insane and planned on kidnapping me, and honestly, with his sheer size, if he wanted to do that then I knew he would've already done it.

There was still a part of my mind that knew he was a good man with a secret, a big one that was probably worthy of hiding.

I forced myself to stop thinking for a moment, mind-churning over the facts..or lack thereof. I had suspicions on what his secret could be, but nothing set in stone, nothing I could be positive about. I found myself caring less about it though, and caring more about the man himself. He really was a joy to be around, quiet but witty and very smart. He was definitely a man of few words, but it seemed that every word that slipped by his tongue managed to charm me even more.

I swiped eyeliner and shadow over my eyes, eager to start the day. I had plans with Bruce and a quiet night at home with corny romance novels. I shrugged on a black tank top and an old college sweatshirt, tossing my brown boots in the closet trade them for the more used black pair. I did a half-up and half-down style on my curls, attempting to make myself look a little less lazy. Bruce had seen me at my worst and after getting to know the man better, I knew he wouldn't mind my casual attire.

Within 30 minutes, I arrived at the manor, Bruce lazily walking down the steps to meet me with an odd expression on his face. As I got out of the car, his gait quickened. "Sarah, are you alright?!" He spoke hurriedly, reaching the end of the staircase. "Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

"There was just another murder in the Narrows, they left a note saying they were looking for a girl named Diamond." I let out a shaky breath, stomach churning as he continued. "According to them, they had plans for her because she ruined their boss' plans. They promised to stop their murders after they claimed their prize." He spat out the last word, obviously disgusted, but that wasn't my concern.

They're after me again, just like the Joker told me.

I felt myself creep up to the brink of a panic attack, tears leaking out of my eyes as I stood silently, letting things sink in. Bruce slid an arm around me, supporting my body before I fell to the concrete. Just as we walked in the door, I felt rain start pounding on my hair, fitting to my mood. When did my life turn into a nightmare?

After an hour or two, I felt myself calming down, the safety of the Manor comforting me. I had so many questions for Bruce, like how he found out about the murder, the note, before anyone else, before the news even covered it, but they could wait until later. For now...I wanted to pretend that things were okay and normal. Alfred slaved away in the kitchen, humming a familiar tune, while Bruce paced the floors, on the phone with Commissioner Gordon. I had never seen him so angry or stern, and if I didn't know him better, I would've found myself frightened.

He hung up angrily, phone shoved into his pockets as he rubbed his face with the other hand, face suddenly looking years older. I'm not the only one effected by this, I thought.

"Bruce, why don't you sit down? You'll wear holes into floor." I laughed out, trying my best to comfort him in any way I could. He opened his mouth, a retort obviously right at his lips, but he stopped himself and sat down next to me, allowing himself to relax for a moment. I allowed myself to examine him up close, noticing tiny scars tattooing his body. He had a few small ones on his eyebrow and near his eye, one across his nose and several larger ones going down his neck, still pink and new. What on Earth does this man do for a hobby?

"I'm sorry." He murmured, leaning his back on the couch and blocking my view of his scars there. "I just don't know who would have this vendetta against you. The Joker is gone, we were so sure that all of his henchmen were dead, but obviously somethings going on. Someone that knows about you through him. We just have to dig deeper and keep you safe."

"I guess going back home is out of the picture." I looked towards him and muffled a laugh at his expression. "um, duh." It seemed to say, seemingly shocked that I would even bring up going back to the Narrows. "Obviously." He nodded, a smile creeping on his face. "That wouldn't be a smart idea."

The rest of the evening went rather well, despite the circumstances. Bruce and I tried to keep our minds off of the subject, keeping up conversations on everything to literature to music. He beat me at Chess and Scrabble, his moves proving that he was much more intelligent than the paparazzi claimed.

He fled the manor around 9PM, apparently due to work, although it seemed a bit fishy, Alfred insisted that it happened quite often. I paid it no mind and prepared myself for another night in the manor, letting out a sigh. I didn't want to become a leech, depending on someone else to support me, but it seemed that Bruce was my only option.

I fell asleep quickly, body giving into the pressure as soon as I hit the fluffed pillows, but I was awoken just a couple hours later, the balcony doors opened as a dark shadow engulfed the room.

Batman.

I couldn't bring myself to be afraid of him.

Sure, everything about him had the potential to be deadly, completely lethal. His voice reminded me of thunder, gravelly and powerful, and his sheer size was enough to make any criminal shake in their boots, but he saved my life, and I knew in my heart that he wouldn't hurt me. If anything, he'd be the one to save me from this horrific nightmare.

"Stay here, and don't go into the Narrows." He spoke at last, mouth set in a firm line as I grew closer. "People know I've been around Bruce, they'll know to come here. How is it any safer?" I asked, curiosity getting the best of me.

"I'll keep you safe." His voice was quieter, body seeming to soften as I stood face to face with him, height different obvious. I touched the side of his mask, staring into his mask-clad face and looking into his deep brown eyes. A realization hit me like a brick. Those eyes were familiar, even his voice, his shape, it was all familiar...

"Bruce?"