Sorry guys for the long delay. My life has been a little stressful lately, and I've barely have time to sit and write properly. In addition, the lack of readers' feedback left me slightly discouraged. Reviews of any kind are always welcome. They help to improve the story and motivate the writer (in this case, myself) to post more. So, please, read and comment.

That said, I'd like to make a couple of introductory observations.

- Leslie Thompkins face claim = Helen Mirren
- Roman Sionis face claim = Michael Fassbender (yeah, between he and Tom Hiddleston, I prefer him to be the villain; Tom is too much cute to be Roman Sionis {:)P})
- Again, Damian's version portrayed in here is a resume of all Robins from comic/animated verse.
- For a while, I have been indecisive on whether I was writing a too much out of character version of Bruce Wayne (a manipulative blackmailer) in this chapter. But I think, in the end, the result that came out is enough to get by.
- This chapter contains some mild language.

Well, enjoy your reading. Next chapter is coming soon with a good splash of mexican soap drama. {8)D}

XXXV - Smoke And Mirrors

Miranda Tate's house, Irving Grove, Gotham City

"Okay. Thank you. I'll be in touch," Miranda finished before switching off the connection. She sank into the seat and sighed heavily. Over the past few days she had been in constant contact with the social care service to get daily reports of Helena's condition. Nanette Gomez had called a few times, and so had Miranda's attorney, to deal with the preparations of the application for the adoption they would present to the judge within a few days.

Leslie appeared in the doorway of the living room and sat next to her on the welcoming couch.

"Is everything okay?"

"Some people from the Child Services Department just want to give me a run around. They keep nitpicking not only my life but also Damian's as well. They want to make sure he won't carry on some bad influence over Helena, or that I might be a careless mom."

"I'm sure things will work out in the end."

"I hope so."

Leslie glanced around and asked tentatively, "So, may I ask you a question – a personal question – if you don't mind?"

Miranda had never met someone as openly warm and transparently honest as Dr. Thompkins, so she found the old lady's request for permission a bit odd, but she replied honestly, "I don't see why not."

"How much of this decision has to do with your medical condition? I mean..." she stopped compassionately as she saw the emotion Miranda was struggling to keep under control. The good doctor was aware that she had nearly lost her life giving birth to Damian, a birth so full of complications that it was impossible for her to bear another child.

"You mean my inability to produce another child?"

Leslie offered a small smile and tried to ease the situation.

"From what I understand the diagnosis wasn't so final like that."

"Yeah, but the doctor told me I'd probably never be able to conceive again, and that if I did, chances were I wouldn't carry it to term." Miranda's eyes glistened. Her voice was hoarse with emotion.

"You are skating around the question. Is this why you're so committed to adopt this little girl?"

"Partly, I guess. I've never had a burning need to have a child. Quite the opposite, as a matter of fact. Especially after I found myself forced to give up on Damian. But Helena…" she paused just long enough for a soft smile to cross her lips. "Well, she is so adorable it was impossible not to fall for her."

With a dreamy look, Miranda leaned forward and rested both of her elbows over her knees, and continued, "When I first met her I caught a glimpse of who I was, cuz we have a lot in common, and I don't wish her to suffer the same things I did. Then I pictured me, Damian, and her living together as a real family. I know it's silly, but…"

"It's not silly at all. I just find strange that you have not included a man in that picture," Leslie pointed out and the other woman snorted.

"What difference would it make?"

Leslie opened her mouth to reply, but the doorbell interrupted them.

Thankful for the interruption, Miranda stood up and prompted, "Excuse me, I think my companions just got here." As she walked over the foyer she casted a sideways glance at Leslie's direction. "Are you gonna be fine on your own?"

"Don't worry, I'm planning to catch up on my reading."

"Okay, I'll be back by lunchtime," Miranda told her and then opened the door, finding Alfred and Titus waiting outside.

"Hello, Alfred. Good to see you again. Please come in," she greeted the butler with a hug and waved him in.

"Good morning, Miss Miranda. It's good to see you too," Alfred replied cheerfully.

She opened the door even further and waited for Titus to enter. The six month old German Shepherd/Great Dane mix rushed to her side, shaking his tail in a display of joy for meeting her.

"Hey, mom," Damian walked past them and went upstairs in a flash.

"Hello, stranger. Are you coming with us?" Miranda asked him.

"You bet. Just need to get my backpack," he answered over his shoulder.

Miranda turned to Titus and finally greeted the animal, "Hello, Titus." She bowed, waiting for him to get in close to embrace him. "Have you been well cared for in the manor?"

Titus sat down and looked up at the butler, who in turn gave him a treat.

"Guess that answers my question," Miranda concluded, laughing. "You think we might be spoiling this dog?"

Alfred chuckled. "Of course. That's what a pet is for."

"Pennyworth…" Leslie's gentle voice echoed through the entrance hall. Until then she had remained all the time in the living room, but as soon as she heard Alfred's voice she felt compelled to show herself.

"Leslie?" he asked, not having to feign surprise at all, the shocking impact of the voice he had thought he would never hear again was evident. They stared at each other for what seemed like a frozen moment in time, and a million of memories rushed through his mind.

Miranda darted her gaze between them as an uncomfortable silence filled the room.

"Oh, have you already known each other before?"

Alfred hung back in the foyer, not really sure what he should do or say. "Yes, we have, ma'am." He cleared his throat. "What are you doing here, Leslie?"

Leslie fixed a smile on her own face and headed his way like the confident, brash woman she had always been.

"Miranda invited me for staying in her home while my place's being renovated."

The old man shook his head, realizing he sounded like an idiot. "I'm sorry. Uh… you are just the last person I expected to see this morning."

"Or ever?" she asked wryly.

"Not that much. It's great to have you back in town… Dr. Thompkins. I mean, I presume you'll be staying for good this time."

"As long as it takes. Actually, I was invited to run Wayne Foundation's free clinic."

"Congratulations. I'm afraid you had been sorely missed by your patients."

Damian emerged into the room, completely unaware of what was unfolding in there.

"I'm ready to go."

"Well dear, we better get going then," Miranda spoke immediately, almost as if she had awakened from a deep slumber. "Alfred, why don't you stay here and keep Leslie company? You two must have a lot to catch up on obviously. I can easily drive my car to the orphanage and back home."

"Thank you very much, ma'am. But I don't think it would be ap_" the butler began but was quickly interrupted by Miranda.

"A problem at all. I'm sure Bruce can survive a couple of hours without your assistance. Please, make yourselves at home," she offered, fully intending to walk away and give some privacy to the couple. Leading Titus' harness in one hand and Damian's arm in the other, she strode out the house.

Once they were out of reach of ear heard, the teen spoke up, "What was that?"

"Seriously don't you feel the vibe?" his mother returned as she settled the dog in the back seat of her car. She saw the moment realisation sank into him. His eyes widened and his lips pursed into a small 'O'.

His mouth twisted as he gave a long, low drawn-out, "Reeeeally?"

She laughed before she even felt it coming.

"Come on. We're late and still need to get Miss Gordon."

The Thomas And Martha Wayne Home for children, Downtown, Gotham City

"That's all folks. Thank you so much. Let's give a warm hand of applause to my lovely assistant Helena," Damian paused as an enthusiastic burst of applause followed the announcement. On cue, Helena moved to center stage and bowed, feeling more than a little embarrassed. "And, of course, my other hunk assistant Titus."

Titus barked loudly to the crowd while Damian and his mother exchanged conspiratory smiles for a moment. The past half hour the teenager had kept the other kids from the orphanage enthralled with small sleight-of-hand tricks with small objects that were at hand.

Once the audience commotion ended, he strolled from the stage, catching Barbara's eye, then he bowed toward her. She smiled and tilted her head toward him, and then the two walked toward the garden and sat on one of the benches.

"You're good," Barb told him.

"I try," he replied, beaming. "To make the young believe in magic is simple, to make the old believe is a feat to be proud of."

"I don't mean this magic stuff. I'm talking about dealing with these kids, and make them feel happy and all."

"You know, I lived with many of them under the same roof for quite some time. But they didn't get the same lucky I did. The foundation staff have been engaged in make these kiddos a part of the community so they won't lose their sense of belonging, even if they have to grow up in an orphanage."

"I suppose that's why the guys from here open the doors for those who want to help, even a dog," Barb said with a chuckle.

Damian shrugged. "That's called animal-assisted therapy. Titus is here to provide affection and comfort to them. And only God knows how they crave for it."

"Looks like it worked. I can see it on their faces. Nothing like a cute pet and and a little bit of petty parlor tricks."

"I rather call it deception designed to delight. Not only to entertain but to inspire as well."

"Is that what you want? To inspire these kids?"

Damian's smile faded and he remained silent for some time, staring forward at nothing but likely getting something in his mind.

"I wasn't a very sociable kid when I was younger. My folks – the adoptive ones – were always traveling on tour, and I didn't attend an ordinary school. So I really got no chance to build strong bonds or make friends. When they both died I found myself virtually alone in this world."

He paused and smiled shakily.

"Doing magic tricks was a way of getting other kids not to beat up on me, something to make them like me. I was good at magic tricks, real fast, and soon the other kids began to tolerate me."

Before Barb could reply anything else, Helena rushed toward them, begging him to come to play. Damian's face lit up and he laughed as the little girl took his hand on hers and made a puppy face.

"Later," he told her gently. "I'm having a little chat with Barbara here."

"Oh, c'mon. You can bring your girlfriend too."

This time Barbara could not help but laugh too as Damian blushed a little.

"She's not my girlfriend, but a nice gal friend. Now, go join the other rug rats," he said as Helena started to pout. "I'm sure they are eager to know how can you do all those awesome tricks. But don't tell 'em anything. It's our little secret. Got it?"

"Yep," she answered, finally giving in.

As soon as she moved away, Barbara said, "The little fellow definitely has you wrapped in her little finger."

"You tell me. I always thought it would be cool to have a sibling. But I always imagined a brother. You know, to do boys' stuff and everything. A little sister is totally different, and yet I can have fun with her too."

"Oh, don't be a male chauvinist. Girls totally rock too."

Damian smirked. "I am not. I've told you I have fun with her. What it's weird, but in a good way."

"Well, maybe your mother don't stop with her, and then next time she'll adopt a boy. Have you seen her demeanor around children. That woman got motherhood in her veins."

He grimaced sadly. "I'm not sure about adopting another kid. Helena is special to mom. Besides her adoption process has been proving to be much more complicated than it was expected. They're putting our lives through a microscope, and what they have seen is nothing nice."

"Wait. I don't believe there's nothing in your lives that's gonna jeopardize Miss Tate's adoption request. I mean, you guys are Gotham's royalty. Nobody will dare to deny it for her. So what is it you're so afraid of?"

Damian sighed. "It's not that easy. Mom gave me up for adoption when I was just a newborn. And I did a lot of stupid things when I was younger."

She arched her eyebrows in question. "Who didn't?"

"I spent a long season at juvie. Petty larceny, practice of hacking, scams… All of this stuff may even have bad influence over my acceptance into college. I'm trying to get away from my past. Now I'm having it rubbed in my face," he said without facing her.

"Well, I got some bad news for you, dude. Getting away from your past ain't gonna make it disappear. It's your landscape. It's your life. Accept that."

Barb paused and grinned when she realised she got his full attention.

"And whatever their report says, is just a piece of paper. These dirty, trickin' pain in the asses, they got nothing on you or your mom," she said, shocked by her own boldness.

He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Barb felt her face heat up a bit.

"Thank you," he told her.

Barb smiled. "You didn't have to share that with me, you know. But, I'm glad you did." She glanced over his shoulder and added, "Wow, ow, ow. Don't you dare looking back now, but there's a pissed blondie shooting lasers with her eyes at us. Is she familiar to you?"

The corner of his mouth lifted mischievously. "She's cute?"

"I guess so," Barb answered leisurely, and then faced him. "Who is she? A hook-up from your past?"

He laughed. "Just an old friend of mine. Or at least she used to be."

"Well, it's obvious she doesn't seem overly friendly right now."

"Afraid?"

"Should I be?"

"Her name is Stephanie Brown. She's a good gal. I just happen to get on her wrong side lately."

"Perhaps if we show some good will and go to talk to her, she'll stop being sulky."

Damian smiled and shook his head. "Hardly." He got to his feet and added, "I think it's time to join the others, don't you?" Helping her up, they walked back into the patio.

Barbara's expression was one of relief at their return. Helena raced across the ground to take their hands.

"Come," she prompted, almost like a summons.

"Come where?" Barb asked.

"To play a game," the little girl replied.

"'Kay."

"Tt. You also fell under her spell," Damian murmured close to Barb's ear. The teenager just chuckled in response.

Random Posh Restaurant, Neville, Gotham City

As the night had fallen, the quaint place at North of Neville illuminated the dimly lit street. Inside the bar, seated, with a drink, Roman Sionis was waiting for his companion to come. He clearly was there for quite some time since his eyes kept checking the room with quiet concern. He gulped his Scotch and set the glass on the bar as a soft voice came from behind him.

"Hi."

Roman jumped slightly but quickly regained his composure and responded with a smile plastered on his face, "Hello. I'm glad you made it."

Miranda Tate regarded him cautiously. "Oh, yeah. I'm late. Sorry."

"Allow me," he said, offering his arm to escort Miranda toward their reserved table. She hooked her arm in his and winked. Within seconds they were seated down at the table.

"You look handsome," Miranda told Sionis. Her eyes were darting to him, playfully.

He grinned. "You look amazing."

A waitress stepped up, "Good evening." She placed the wine list in front of Roman, and handed out menus.

"Thank you," the couple said in unison, focused on their menus.

"Feel free to make your choices. I'll be back in a minute," the waitress said, smiling, and then moved off.

Sionis managed a nod in response as Miranda looked at the young man and mouthed an "Okay."

She put her menu down and decided to break the silence, "There oughta be a picture of you in the dictionary under persistence."

He shrugged. "Truth is, if you want something, work hard enough and you'll get it."

"Indeed."

"I bet you would have done the same thing," he said, recalling every single attempt to get any helping answer from her.

She giggled a bit before replying, "Yes, I probably would…"

"So, have you thought about my offer?"

Right away Miranda pulled an envelope out of her purse and handed it to him. "I've taken your proposal carefully and now I have an answer. A counterproposal, so to speak. This is my first and last offer. So you can like it or lump it."

Sionis snickered dully, putting the unopened envelope aside. "In other words, it is a case of sink or swim."

She cocked her head to the side, her expression sober. "I'm afraid you can't swim anymore, Roman. The contents of this envelope is your only way out."

He frowned as he noticed her tone was devoid of any warmth. Even so, Roman managed a small smile.

"Wow! Never saw you so businesslike," he said sardonically. "I thought we were friends."

"And we are. Believe me, no one else could do what I'll do for you if you accept what is on these papers," she pointed out as she rested her chin on her clasped hands. "Read it carefully and tell me your answer in… let's say…" she paused, checking her watch, and then added, "36 hours."

"So soon?" His expression changed, becoming a mask of stone. "Is it just my impression or are you showing a side of you that I still haven't had the pleasure to know? The cold and detached business tycoon..."

Miranda's wry smile said she saw through the sarcasm. She leaned further over the table, peering at him.

"Don't be so dramatic, Roman. If I was not that cold and detached bitch as I've been overly depicted by some partners, I wouldn't be in great business in the first place. My goal is nothing less than world domination." Her relaxed expression suggested she almost took it for granted.

When Roman took a breath to reply, the waitress got back, all smiles. "Are you ready to order?"

Miranda glanced at her and responded candidly. "Yes, we're."

Miranda Tate's Loft, Midtown District, Gotham City

A full moon illuminated the night sky as a police helicopter was patrolling the skies above the luxurious and modern building. Soon as the lights, the engine noise, and the staccato of rotor blades biting into the air passed, a dark silhouette rose up from the shadows. It moved to the edge of the roof and vanished over the side.

A chill hung in the air as the shadow landed quietly on the balcony outside Miranda's loft, then worked the intricate security code. Once the mysterious figure managed to unlock the balcony door, it swung to inside, closing the door behind it just as the main entrance door opened. The individual quickly leapt into the shadows, waiting for the best moment to make its presence known, watching impassively the course of the following events.

Miranda automatically kicked her shoes off as she stepped into the living room. Without bothering to turn on the lights, she walked over to the couch and took a seat on it. Sighing heavily, she buried her face in her palms, and for a split-second she felt all bitty – as if the working parts of her body had fragmented and none of the connecting parts knew how to work together any more.

Returning to the empty loft seemed the right thing to do at that moment. She needed some time alone, some time to work out her next steps. However her attempt to collect her thoughts and readjust was brought to a sudden halt as she sensed some movement in the back of the room. All her muscles tensed and the adrenaline started to pump in anticipation of physical confrontation.

"Took me almost two minutes to break your alarm's code. Nice work." Dispensing with the niceties of a proper greeting, Bruce's deep, low voice came out of the shadows and Miranda's head snapped up.

"And you certainly got a score for clandestineness," she replied wryly – pleased her voice did not shake too much – and turn to face him.

She asked herself what the hell he was doing here. How had he known she was coming back to her former home instead of the four-story brownstone on Irving Grove? But in the back of her mind, Miranda knew Bruce was a man who owned skills that were far beyond one could imagine. She knew he had invisible eyes and ears spread all over the city.

"I thought you had sold this place," he commented, stepping forward. He was dressed business casual, as if breaking and entering other's people house was the most natural thing in the world.

"No one was willing or able to pay the price asked," she retorted, and her legs felt like jelly when she stood up. She crossed her arms over her chest in a clear indication of annoyance. "Why are you here, anyway?"

This was the first time she was talking to him face-to-face since the afternoon they had shared a kiss in her office. Now, standing before him, she was overwhelmed with how badly she had missed him.

Holding Miranda's stare, Bruce simply said, "We need to talk."

"What's wrong with a phone call?"

"It's important… And urgent." Bruce punctuated it with a small smile.

Miranda did not return it. Intuition told her this meeting was not work-related. This was personal. She inclined her head and crossed the room.

"Anything I can get for you? Tea? Coffee? Or something stronger? An ass kicking back home perhaps?"

Bruce could not help but chuckle at her snap. "I'm fine."

He followed her into the kitchen while she got a glass of water for herself with clammy fingers, his gaze never leaving her. She turned her head and caught him staring. Something intangible yet very real passed between them – something that pulled and tugged inside him. She looked different. He was certain of it. She looked tired and sad, as if she had been carrying a heavy burden in the past couple of days. Had Roman Sionis said or done something that had hurt her?

"How are you? I mean really?" he asked softly.

Her lips curved into a rueful smile. "I don't think you came here just to check up on me. Let's just cut to the chase, okay?"

"I'm aware that you're having a heck of a hard time in adopting Helena. I know they're mulling over not only your past, but Damian's too. The heavy weight of secretly giving our son up for adoption many years ago can be a decisive factor in determining you as potential mother material."

"What do you want from me? Why did you come here – just to rub salt in my wounds?"

"No. I want to propose a deal. I believe we could work together towards a common goal."

All right, Miranda thought. It was a 'social visit' with some ulterior motive. She knew it was too good to be true.

"Which is?" she said, giving him a searching look.

"Vicki Vale is determined to draw Batman out." His voice was clipped, succinct, the lazy drawl disappearing.

"Let me guess. The dashing journalist has got your neck in a vice?" she mocked.

"I'm not kidding, Miranda. She stormed over unannounced and started babbling about a connection between Wayne Enterprises and Batman. Vicki's convinced that where there's smoke, there's fire. She won't stop digging until she write this exposé."

"What exactly did this weasel discover?"

"She doesn't have any concrete evidence, only a tangle of logical conclusions. Still, if she gets this story out she'll be able to unleash holy hell on all of us."

"Did she manage to figure out Batman's identity?"

"I'm not sure. As I said before, all she has is a bunch of suspicions and hunches."

"Then there's no reason to worry about it. I know her M.O. from the time I lived in Metropolis. She's a great reporter but unfortunately a vicious opportunist as well. Lex got a hard time fixing the damages she used to cause. She's smart but nothing you can't handle."

"The problem is she told me something that could cause you to pull a complete 180 against your own rulings."

"I don't get it. What's that got to do with me?"

"Vicki claims to have proof the company had a traitor who sold out the reactor's secrets to Bane. She's dying to found out who. Intel like that could jeopardize your plans for adoption."

Miranda's face became white, her eyes glazed. "How could she possibly know that? She wouldn't go so far deliberately. I mean..." her voice faded,

"Like you say, she's a vicious opportunist. She told me she had access to the testimony of one of Bane's goons. Gordon gave me a heads up about this too. It seems he's really committed to discover the whole truth about it."

"And what do you suggest we do?"

"That we clean up after each other."

"How?"

"Look, I don't know if you've heard about it from anyone else yet, but most of the directors are cautious and wary about me thanks to my… How can I put it?" he paused for a moment, searching for the right words to describe it the least possible sardonic way. But still, the irony pointed every single word he said, "Oh, yeah! My presumed inability to show commitment to the company's values. They deem that my personal life could have a detrimental effect on my business judgement and lead me to make mistakes."

"Oh, I couldn't agree more."

"Whatever. The thing is Fox and that wonks from the PR department seem to have found a solution. Sort of, I guess. And that's where you come in." He pointed at her, grinning mischievously for a moment.

"Stop dancing around the issue and get right to the point."

"They advised me to choose a wife, or risk losing my position as president of the company."

Miranda gasped incredulously. "Wow! This is certainly a surprise. But let me get this straight," she said slowly, "You need to get married to stay in control of the company, right?"

"Yep."

"All of that sounds like completely bullshit to me. And I still haven't the faintest idea about my role on it."

Bruce's tread was light and predatory as he strode around the kitchen island until he was standing only inches in front of her. "Suppose I asked you to marry me. What would you say?" His voice was dangerously soft.

Shocked, she stared at him as she waited for the punch line. Which did not come.