Nelya stood at her kitchen counter, ferociously mixing a bowl of cake batter.
'Any time now...' she thought anxiously.
There was a long awaited knock at the door.
She took a sharp breath in. She was as good as dead now.
She slowly walked to her front door, "Who is it?" she called in a song-like quality.
"Commissioner James Gordon, Miss Clyne. I believe we met earlier. May I come in?" His tone was flat, monotone. She couldn't read anything in such a guarded voice.
She held her breath as she opened the door with one hand, balancing the bowl against her chest with the other, "Good evening Commissioner. What brings you around here?"
"I think you know very well Miss Clyne. May I come in?" He repeated.
Nelya stepped aside indicating for him to enter. She looked down at her bare fee, one on top of the other, biting her lip.
Commissioner Gordon stood in the middle of the hallway, hands on his hips, "We have something very important to discuss, young lady."
Once Nelya had put the bowl of cake batter in the fridge, and made a mug of hot chocolate for both her and the Commissioner, she perched on her armchair facing him where he sat on the sofa.
She felt like she was in trouble with her father. The way he sat and spoke radiated a fatherly approach on her discipline.
She was very nervous.
"Miss Clyne," he began, "tell me everything."
So, she did. Everything.
From when she first moved here, her experiences of the 'war', her obsession with the Batman and finally her personal challenge and motivation to figure out his identity.
Nelya also explained, step by step, of how she came to conclude that Bruce Wayne was the Batman.
When she finished, a whole hour and two more mugs of hot chocolate later, Commissioner Gordon sat back in his seat and rubbed his eyes. Sometime during the course of her tale he had taken off his glasses to do the exact same action, "Damn kids." He said, sitting up, "Where you guys get these ideas from I will never know."
She was silent for a moment, "You said 'you' in the plural sense."
The Commissioner internally cursed, "Yes, I did." He answered, despite it not being a question.
Nelya looked away, then back up at him, "There was another person, separate from the group I just said, who knew, wasn't there? Someone young?"
He sighed, "Yes, there was-"
"Wait!" She raised her hands in a 'stop' gesture, "Before you go on, I want to tell you something."
He looked at her puzzlingly, "Go on..." He prompted.
She told him about seeing 'Batman' on the roof next to the police department- the one who most probably turned on the Batsignal. He had said he knew the Batman's identity.
"Do you think they're the same person?" She asked him after he didn't say anything.
"They are."
"Are you going to tell me?"
"Do you want to figure it out by yourself?"
She thought for instant, "Yes please."
The next day, they sat in the Commissioner's office and resumed their conversation from where they left it last night.
The Commissioner sat back in his chair, his hands behind his head, "What do you want know?"
Nelya bit her lip, "From the way you spoke of him, I assume he either is or was a police officer."
"And how do I speak of him Miss Clyne?"
"Rather fondly. Like he were a nephew." She said, seeing him smile at her answer.
"Carry on."
"I've seen many young men at the department both yesterday and today, but none of them fit this guy's physical attributes. There was one but his voice was all wrong."
"His voice?" He said, leaning forward, elbows resting on the table.
"Yep, he had a very thick Gotham accent- 'Batman'," she gestured with her fingers, "had a more subtle one."
"Right..."
"Um..." She looked around the room, "I suppose he's no longer part of the force?"
"How did you...?" He stared at her in bewilderment.
"You may sound fond some of the time, but otherwise, you seem...disappointed. Not in him but because you feel he had had the potential to do great things?"
He let out a breath of air, "You're very good." He said, "What did you say you were studying again?"
"Modern History and English Literature."
"Oh."
"Am I allowed to see a copy of the list of officers and detectives who left over the past year?" She asked.
"I don't see why not." Commissioner Gordon got up and went over to a filing cabinet, pulling open a draw and flicking through it. When he found what he was looking for, he pulled out a set of papers and handed it to her.
She took it and grabbed a pencil from a pot on his desk and began to cross names out. First the policewomen, then the men who were too tall, short, fat, thin, old and who came from outside Gotham.
This left her with around twenty names. She filtered the search even more by crossing out the regular policemen-leaving only detectives. The number had gone down to twelve.
This then went down to three; taking when they left-after the war- into account.
She narrowed her eyes, trying to find another possible connection or anomaly.
Her eyebrows shot up, a grin on her face as she found it. She handed the list of profiles back to the Commissioner.
He didn't have to look at who she had circled, he was watching her work so intently, "How?" Was all he said.
"I had to find connection between him and Batman rather than another physical aspect about him. They're parentage was the most prominent answer." She paused, "They are or were both orphans- they have that emotional connection the other two lacked. I guess that's a difference in itself."
"Well, you're right. John Blake was the only other person that knew."
