Diclaimer: I do not own anything.

Bane didn't so much as twitch as Miranda Tate leisurely strolled in. Amy on the other hand began struggling anew. "Help! Run for help! Please!" she yelled.

Miranda looked over at her with a blank expression. "Bane, when you are finished with this, I wish to speak with you upstairs."

Amy was dumbstruck, momentarily forgetting to fight Bane. When Miranda disappeared up the stairs, Bane brought Amy's attention back to himself with a vicious shake.

"You will stay in your bedroom until I come to retrieve you," he ordered. Amy stared him in the eyes, refusing to back down. Her shoulder was dully thrumming now. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out what relationship Miranda Tate could have with Bane. She was a Gotham elite and she should have feared and hated him, not paid him casual visits.

Although it seemed impossible, Bane somehow seemed to pull her closer. He wasn't wearing his vest today and she could feel every rigid angle of his body. Something was burning in his eyes, far away and small like an ember, but definitely there. His breathing was laboured and the hand on her arm burned. His thumb moved, ever so slowly, over the racing pulse in her wrist. Back and forth like the swish of a cat's tail. They could have stood there for hours, until finally Bane detached himself from her and briskly took the stairs two at a time.

Amy sunk to her knees. All she could hear was the rushing of her own blood, rapid and loud. What was most disturbing was that this wasn't fear. No, it was something incredibly hot and powerful that made her do reckless things with people she normally wouldn't have thought of twice. She'd never experienced anything like it before, and if she was being honest, there was something incredibly liberating about not thinking and just doing.

Physically shaking herself to purge off the dangerous set of mind, she climbed to her feet with the aid of the couch arm and hurried to her room. She would probably have a heart attack if Bane decided to invade her personal space again.

Once safely hidden behind her door, Amy searched for inspiration. She could not accept Bane's offer. Freedom or not, she knew that the guilt would not let her alone. She couldn't risk finding out that this was his only plan for her. If he considered her useless, there was a very high chance that he would decide to kill her. She knew too much about him for him to allow her to continue running around Gotham.

There were two windows in her room. This height eliminated the possibility of jumping out, but it could potentially provide access to the roof. Both of the windows were fixed and did not open. If she was really desperate, she could break a window and attempt to climb out. However, not only did she have no idea if it was even possible to climb to the roof from here but she had no way of knowing how to escape if she got there. So the windows were out. The front door was also out as it only led to a whole bunch of guards she had no hope of getting past. Her only chance was tricking Bane into taking her outside for one reason or another. That plan made her nervous. She couldn't plan that out step by step. There were too many variables. She'd have to think on her feet and hope for the best.

"I hope you are contemplating your decision, Miss Bloor." Amy's heart almost leapt out of her chest. She whirled around, finding Bane standing in her doorway. She had not heard the door open or his approaching footsteps. It was very annoying how he could be silent when he wanted. She would have very much liked if he was less adept at sneaking around. She didn't answer and turned back to the window. With Bane, trying to talk him into seeing things differently was as effective as throwing yourself at a wall. You might eventually make the slightest indent but you'd be so battered and bruised by then that it would be impossible to notice.

Behind her, Amy heard Bane walk in and sit on her bed. It bothered her, but she wouldn't let him know. Even though she realized that he was wrinkling the duvet she so painstakingly straightened this morning.

Amy felt claustrophobic. Not only physically with Bane's massive frame some mere feet behind her, but suffocated by her own mind as well. She was usually a very innovative thinker, being able to solve problems creatively and from a completely new perspective. That was what had made her bakery business so successful. But now her mind ran in loops, seeing only two choices, neither of which left her a healthy, rational human being in the end.

Taking any emotional or moral wellbeing out of the picture, she could potentially go along with Bane's request and leave Gotham all in one piece. What he asked was very doable…if the executer didn't have a soul. Or a beating heart. On top of that if he let her leave early enough, she could help the city from the outside. Bane would have to give her a lot of information for this to work smoothly, information that she could give the forces on the outside. They would definitely be able to come up with a plan.

Or she could refuse to do his bidding. Defying Bane was undoubtedly going to be painful. He would probably kill her, or at least horribly mutilate her to make an example. Either way, there was no way she would see the end, whether Gotham was freed or not.

What Amy needed was time, but with Bane all but breathing down her neck, she knew she didn't have that luxury. So she plotted a plan and turned to Bane. Steeling herself for the storm to come, she told him her decision.

"You agreed to do what!?" Cassidy was clearly less than impressed. Amy was at the bridal salon now, using her few precious few hours of freedom to figure out just what she had gotten herself into. The support she had been hoping for was not as obvious as she had expected.

Squaring her shoulders, Amy had given Bane her agreement. He had approached her slowly like a cat stalking its prey. She kept a straight face and prayed that he couldn't smell fear. Or sense when someone was lying. Was her eye twitching?

She had tensed her entire body to keep herself from shaking. Bane stood over her for an eternity, not speaking or moving, just staring. It felt like he could read her thoughts. But he didn't so much as raise a finger to her and had simply informed her that she was free to leave the apartment but was to be back before sunset.

She was waiting for the elevator when Miranda Tate had pranced out of the apartment not even sparing her a glance. What followed had to be the world's most awkward elevator ride ever. At least for Amy. Miranda didn't seem bothered in the slightest.

There was only one person Amy would trust with her ugliest secrets, so temporarily setting aside plans of escape, she headed to the bridal salon.

"You're not letting me finish!" Amy whisper yelled. The last thing she needed was someone over hearing her and sending her whole scheme crashing. "I'm not actually going to do it! That's insane!"

"Then what are you going to do?" Thankfully Cassidy lowered her voice as well. Her face still remained a vicious, blotchy red though.

"I don't know! That's why I'm here!" Amy had put on a smile for Lauren who was thrilled to have her back. After donning her hanker chief, she had limped around helping brides until she had a clear opening to ambush Cassidy. Yanking her into the nearest broom closet, Amy told her friend everything without holding back, curse words included. Throughout the conversation Cassidy`s face had turned varying shades from light rose to full out tomato red. Amy was starting to worry for her friend`s health.

"You know what? That's it! You're going into hiding until this whole thing blows over," Cassidy hissed. "And it will blow over!"

"Don't you listen!? I told you, he said that the bomb is a time bomb! There's no way that it's not going off!" Amy understood why Cassidy refused to believe Bane's words. It wasn't that she didn't think he was capable of something like this but rather that she didn't want to face the fact that unless some miracle took place, everyone in Gotham would die. Realizations like that did not inspire hope or the will to fight.

"Forget the bomb, what about this Miranda Tate lady? Why was she there?" Cassidy asked.

"I don't know. I didn't want to ask her in case she ran back and got Bane or something. I was more focused on getting the hell out of there." Amy did in fact question why she hadn't confronted Miranda about her presence there, although she doubted that if the woman was working with Bane that that would yield many answers. She did however note that Miranda did not exit through the front doors of the building, but rather turned into a side hallway and disappeared to what Amy assumed was a back door. Obviously only a select few knew about her association with Bane, and at least for the time being she wanted to keep it that way. Bane must have had some kind of hidden blackmail that he could use in case Amy decided to spill the beans. Amy didn't like being in the dark at all.

"You're setting yourself up for failure when you know next to nothing!" Amy had been thinking exactly the same thing. Playing Bane's game was like wandering through a minefield. Each step could reveal a new rule that could result in some pretty gruesome results.

"Look, I have to be back in like half an hour. I don't know how soon he expects me to start doing whatever it is he has planned, so I need a fail proof stall tactic," Amy said. Cassidy rubbed a hand over her mouth, deep in thought. Neither of them were evil masterminds, and anything they came up with, however seemingly sound, had a good chance of not standing up against Bane.

"I've got it," Cassidy burst out suddenly. "Let's just hope your acting skills are up to it."

Amy's joints ached. Her head felt like it was ready to explode. She couldn't breathe through her nose and her throat felt raw, making even swallowing painful. She was incredibly weak, barely having the energy to keep her eyes open.

Or at least she hoped that's what she looked like.

Cassidy brilliant plan had been incredibly simple: play sick. Any kid that had ever attended school must've tried it at least once since the common cold was hardly an Oscar talent requiring performance. Even if Bane was a lot more likely to interrogate Amy than any parent, if she tricked him successfully it would buy her time. After all, he couldn't present Gotham's newest hope as a wheezing, feverish wreck.

So Amy lay in wait, or rather in her bed, for Bane to come storming into her room when she failed to get up at 7 AM as he had instructed her the night before. The bedside clock showed Amy that she only had 4 minutes of waiting left.

After leaving the salon, Amy had thrown off her jacket and sweater and had taken the longest way possible back to the apartment. She had stuck to alleys and side streets to avoid being seen, and was thoroughly frozen when she had finally returned to the building. She had also forced herself to stay up to the wee hours of the morning. The results weren't half bad: a bad case of bed head, a runny nose, bloodshot eyes and chapped lips. Requiring a more convincing appearance, Amy slathered her face with blush and Vaseline and spritzed some water to imitate sweat.

She looked genuinely sick, but the obvious lack of a fever would be a problem. Amy really hoped that Bane didn't happen to have a thermometer handy.

At exactly 7:01, her door opened, and Bane walked in. He searched her room for a minute before his eyes landed on her, still in her pyjamas and still in bed. His eyes widened slightly as if he couldn't quite believe that someone would dare to defy him so boldly.

"Are you incapable of reading a clock, Ms. Bloor?" he asked. Amy groaned and raised an arm to turn the clock towards herself, her movements appearing to cause her great difficulty. She sniffled unnecessarily loudly and feigned a surprised gasp.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry!" she croaked quietly. Bane had approached her bed and stood breathing hard over her. As Amy started to slowly peel the covers off of herself he roughly grabbed her shoulder and stared hard at her face. Amy maintained eye contact, her heart racing. Now was the moment that would make or break her.

When Bane failed to act for several seconds, Amy decided to push him in the right direction. "I think I'm sick."

He didn't reply but released her and left the room with swift strides. Hesitantly Amy lay back down. Hopefully he hadn't gone to fetch a nasty weapon to murder her with.

Minutes later Amy wished he had killed her instead.

Bane returned with an innocent looking cup and placed it into her hands. The liquid inside was a brownish green and smelled like an herbal tea.

"Drink," Bane said. Seeing no other choice, Amy took a sip. And immediately spat it out all over herself.

The drink was bitter, salty and spicy all at once. It tasted like someone had taken every spice possible and had mixed it all together with milk and orange juice. Amy was certain that Bane was trying to poison her.

"What the hell is that!?" Amy exclaimed.

Apparently exasperated by her actions, Bane wrapped his own much larger hands around her own and pushed the cup back to her lips. Having no choice, Amy opened her mouth and choked the rancid liquid down one horrible gulp at a time. When it was finished Amy's throat felt like it was on fire and her eyes watered. She doubted that the taste would leave her mouth for days to come.

Bane's hands had not left her own.

"The medicine should start working within an hour. At eight thirty I expect you to be ready to leave. No excuses." How the plan could have crashed and burned so spectacularly quickly Amy had no idea, but it had and now she was out of time.

Finally releasing her hands, he extracted the mug from her grasp and left her alone to wallow in her misery for the next hour and a half.

Author's note: I AM SO SORRY! I realize that this update took nearly a month. Is it disappointingly short? Yes, and I cannot apologize enough for this! I am currently going through insane writer's block as well as a very busy school schedule. To add to this horrible brew I recently saw Skyfall and it has made my inspiration stray somewhat. However, there's a good side! For all of you Raoul Silva lovers out there I am planning a story centering around him and an OC. Will this make updates take super long? Probably. Will I do my best to be a good author and update more frequently than once a month? I certainly hope so.

Thank-you once again to all of you for your support! I hope that I did not disappoint and can win back your approval soon! :)