I am with you, and will protect you wherever you go. Genesis 28:15

Little Blue Eyes

Chapter 9 : Midnight Meeting

Bruce tapped his fingers on the counter, taking a deep drink of the amber colored liquid from the crystal glass, staring deeply into the window which overlooked the city. Smog encircled the sky like a blanket, dancing around the many sized buildings, cloaking his view of millions of people below on the streets.

Tara and Fina among them.

He couldn't help but worry for them. They were children still. Tara hardly knew how to care for herself, much less a child. He pressed a fist to his forehead. Bruce regretted dragging her into this. Regretted meeting Gordon that day. Regretted seeing her.

"Master Bruce?" Came Alfred's British accent. "You might want to watch this." Bruce got up and took another long drink from the glass. Shoving it into Alfred's hand, he raised his eyes and set his elbows on the island across from the mini kitchen. Sighing, he cranked up the volume.

"...our next story brings us downtown Gotham City on Broadway Avenue, where a shooting incident has Gothamites cringing. One eye witness from SunRay Apartments recalls the story with us today," The man put the mike to the older man's face. "Tell us what you saw, Mr. Jennings."

The man cleared his throat. "Yeah, well, it was quite somethin' really. Two youngsters; one about drivin' age and the other barely old enough to count," He scratched his beard.

"And what happened."

"The kid was screamin'," He shrugged. "and a dark haired foreigner woman was talking to them and whatnot." Bruce's attention spiked. "Then next thing I know there's shooting outside the building. Everyone panicked when they saw the gun," He shrugged. "But that girl sawed into her with fancy fightin' moves and whatever else there was." He furrowed his brow. "Glad to know someones watching out for themselves."

"The shooter was identified by Police as Erica Orang, an Asian sniper from Asia known largely to be associated with the infamous Mob, run by Daniel Meroni. It is recorded that she had attempted a kidnapping of these two ladies,"

Two pictures flashed onto the screen. Bruce looked at them from the bottom of his glass, eyes widened. He took a shocked step backwards, liquor sloshing into his eyes. With a yelp, he whipped the glass across the room. With one hand on his left eye, he peared at the screen in a blurry haze. Alfred aided him.

"Tara and Fina," He mumbled. Alfred gave a slight nod, clicking off the TV. They'd made the news, that was for sure. Fina's father would hear about it for sure, and he'd go around asking questions. Most likey hurt a few people as well. Bruce cursed under his breath.

You should listen, my son.

Bruce nodded and tried opening his burning eyes. He looked up to the ceiling and sighed, pushing himself from the counter. He fumbled through the penthouse looking for his keys and his jacket. When he finally had them, and his vision began to clear, he headed towards the door. Putting a hand on the knob, he looked over his shoulder.

"I'll be back, Alfre-"

Thunk!

Yelping, Bruce fell flat on his back, pain overcoming his head. Black splotch's danced across his burning eyes, and he put his hands to his forehead, rolling over onto his side while moaning. He heard two gasps, and then felt a body drop down next to his. Deliriously looking at the figure, the smell of peaches and perfume overcame his senses.

"Mr Wayne! I- oh my gosh, are you O.K.? I'm sorry!" It was the familiar voice of Tara Owens, and then a rustling above him. Alfred was putting his jacket under his head. A shaky little hand took hold of Bruce's; soft and tender. He looked to the side to see the wide-eyed, pale and shaking Fina. Sighing, he put his hand to her cheek.

"Hey, sport," He said quietly. "You look terrible. You alright?"

She shook her head slowly.

Tara fumbled beside him. "I-I'm so sorry, Mr Wayne! I-I didn't mean to-I mean...uh...well, I oh uh I'm sorry," She said, voice over come with panic. Once the dots stopped flashing across his eyes, Bruce saw that her face was red and she was crying, "I'm such an idiot," She mumbled.

"What on earth is going on?" Alfred asked quietly. Bruce opened his burning eyes and blinked a few times, and then noted that the world had stopped spinning. The throbbing in his head was intense, but he'd live. Slowly sitting up, Alfred and Tara seized his arm. He stabled himself and moaned.

"You don't wanna know," Tara said quietly, sniffling. "I'm such a moron," Then she cursed under her breath. Bruce turned his head to look at Fina, who trembled quietly next to him. She wasn't crying. The girl must've been in shock.

"Hey, whoa, whoa, hold up a minute," he said, waving his hands in front of his face. "What was that all about?" He pointed to the TV. "You two..." he pointed to each of them. "Were on the news. What happened?" He demanded. Tara looked at him a minute, then buried her face in her palms, sobbing. Bruce was shocked.

"I-It's m-m-my fault," she cried. "A-almost g-got us k-killed," She said through her hands. "S-shooting at us, trying to k-kidnap m-me; h-h-her," she fumbled around for the words. Bruce got up on his knees and looked at her. Alfred shuffled over to Fina and picked up the trembling child. "All m-my fault," Tara muttered. "All my fault." She looked up at him.

"Hey, nothing is your fault," Bruce said, trying to find the words to comfort her. She was shaking violently now, her sweater dotted with light traces of blood. Her back shook with each sob, until he finally didn't know what else to do but put his arms around her. She fell into his, sobbing hysterically now. "It was bad luck, Tara."

She looked up at him. "N-no! If I was more responsible," She sniffled. "I-I wouldn't h-have said anyt-thing to her."

"Who was it?" he asked again, to make sure. "Someone you know?"

Tara shook her head. "N-no."

"You positive?"

Tara nodded. "F-friend o-of U-Uriah," She squeaked. "S-seen her before, don't know h-her name." Once she took a few breathes, she began to settle. Bruce sat her up straight and looked into her puffy eyes, heart swelling for her. It was awkward, playing father, but he was trying his best. "S-she tried to kill us," She said quietly. Bruce looked down and then back up at her. It was getting too dangerous. Apparently her father had connections. With someone.

"No one is going to kill you." He said bluntly.

Tara's eyes watered again and she began to cry.

GCPD Building, Interrogation

James Gordon paced in the dimly lit room in front of the Asian woman; who's black hair hung in damp strands by her face. She was handcuffed, slunching over the desk. They'd been at this for hours. Last he recalled they'd past the two hour mark almost forty-five minutes ago. Kicking the chair back, he slid into it, rubbing his temples.

"I'll ask again, Erica. Who sent you to get the two girls?"

He said coldy and mechanically. He looked up at her, letting his glasses slide against the steel desk. He was starving, frustrated and tense. This Asian was well trained at interrogation. He'd been asking the same question over and over.

Erica was silent.

"Tell me!" Gordon's fist slammed against the table, and he stood quickly from his chair, kicking it backwards. "Tell me who sent you, Orang!" Erica flinched slightly, but not by much. She pursed her lips together and sneered at him.

She was silent.

Cursing under his breath, Gordon lost all patients. Pounding over to the other wall, he looked into it, chest heaving. He would be off duty in fifteen minutes. He needed the information to give to Batman later that night. And Bruce Wayne needed to know. He had alot of contacts to make, and this Asian wasn't helping.

"Tell me, blast you!" Not thinking, Gordon pulled his revolver from his belt, pointing it at her. Erica's head jerked up and she stared wide-eyed at the weapon. Gordon pulled the hammer back, cocking the weapon. It shook with his fury as sweat formed under his nose. Her face paled. "Tell me who sent you," He rasped darkly.

"Are you going to shoot me, Sergeant?" She asked, accent thick. "Wouldn't that be murder?" She asked quietly.

Apparently she was beginning to get uncomfortable. Taking a few steps towards his, he focused his aim on the chair leg. Squeezing the trigger, the gun spit to life, firing a round into the wood. She screamed. the wooden leg splintering. She tumbled fore ward, smacking her head onto the steel table, then slumped to the floor, hands behind her back now. She moaned.

"You missed." She rasped dryly.

Gordon pulled the hammer again. "I won't next time."

She glared up at him. "You wouldn't shoot me."

"Try me." He pulled up his aim. She flinched. "Tell me who sent you!" He hollered.

"Fine!" She shouted up at him, spitting some blood from her mouth. "It was Meroni! He told us to get the kids to him by tonight!" Erica shouted loudly at him.

"How much did he offer?" Gordon demanded.

"43 hundred." She said bitterly.

Gordon pressed the gun into his belt. "Where and when?"

"We had to bring them to the docks at midnight," she glared up at him. "Alive. If we didn't; he said he'd kill us."

"When was this?"

"Tuesday." She spat back.

Gordon sneered at her. "Your lucky it's seven o'clock," He said huskily. "Get yourself up." He turned to leave the interrogation room. "I'll send a guard." He slipped out the door, slamming it behind him. He whipped out his cell and thumbed his men into the room.

"Wayne here." Came the familiar voice over the line. Gordon hurried up the steps and into the main lobby.

"Wayne, this is Gordon, down at GCPD."

"Sergant."

He waved his men out of his office. "I've got news on the girls."

"Really."

"You might want to bring them down here."