I don't own Batman Begins, The Dark Knight, The Dark Knight Rises, or any of the characters or plots found within the movies. Eleanor Black, her family and backstory, and all the plot points that are not from the movie are mine. The fic is rated for language and violence. It is a rewrite and reorganization of my two previous Nolan-verse fics "Superhero's Confidante" and "Chances Are." It will go through all three movies in the trilogy and feature time from before and after as well.

In the Shadow of the Bat
—The Big Fat Spread

Bruce was still down in the cave after I'd showered and found some coffee. By the time I had dressed and made it back downstairs, there was a pale light creeping over the horizon, a light leaving the halls of the mansion in semi-darkness and casting strange shadows through the windows. I didn't pause to watch the sunrise. I headed straight for the entrance to the cave. I hit the keys on the piano in the study without looking and headed down into the chill darkness, following a path I hadn't walked in a long, long time. The way was familiar and the stone of the stairs and the metal of the elevator cold and welcome on my bare feet; a smile ghosted across my face as random memories of the space sped through my mind.

The elevator car clicked into place at the bottom of the shaft and I spied Bruce through the brick archways, sitting in front of the array of computers on top of the submergible block of black material, his face illuminated by the glow of the screens and his brow furrowed in concentration. For a moment, I just watched, unsure about the surge of joy I was feeling over Bruce being back in this habitat, and hesitant to let it show. We'd fought about it so much and I'd gone back and forth about how I felt about it, about how supportive I was, but seeing him sitting there, even if he still had the goatee and still walked with the cane, even if he didn't look like himself, it felt good. It felt… not right, exactly, but like something had clicked into place.

It was only after a brief span of time I noticed Alfred standing behind Bruce. There was a strange look on the butler's face and I could hear the faint murmur of conversation. I was too far away to hear what was being said. Curious, I stepped out of the elevator car and took a few silent steps across the rocks. I wasn't noticed as I wedged myself into the shadows.

"I never wanted you to come back to Gotham," Alfred was saying. He must have been talking about Bruce's sojourn abroad, when he'd trained to become Batman. I remembered talking to Alfred during that time, meeting the butler for the odd lunch after I'd run into Bruce in London. I remember him being… oddly content with Bruce's disappearance, though he was still worried for the wellbeing of his charge. "I knew there was nothing here for you but pain and suffering and tragedy—the memory of your parents haunted you all through childhood and I saw it even when you didn't want me to. I didn't want you to come back to that. I wanted more for you than that. I still do."

"Alfred—"

"But you came back and, despite all evidence to the contrary, despite your actions as Batman, you started to make a life for yourself, started to achieve something more than an existence filled with revenge and misery."

"Rachel died and Ellie…"

Something inside constricted at the way Bruce said my name. I leaned a little heavier against the wall and tried to keep quiet. However, Bruce didn't continue speaking. Alfred filled the silence.

"You hung up your cape and cowl and you mourned for Rachel, but you also took comfort in Eleanor's presence, and I thought you might come back—she used to bring something out in you, before you decided Batman was no longer needed."

Bruce winced at the words "used to." I closed my eyes and took the deepest breath I could without making noise. Bruce and I had brought out a fire in each other—a fire born mainly of stubbornness and intensity—and we'd clung to the memory of it for years.

"The point, Master Wayne, is when you were gone, I hoped you had moved on and found something to live for. I hoped you had a wife and children, a family. I hoped for the same again eight years ago. You are still capable of more than this self-induced exile Bruce, and you still deserve it, regardless of how grievous you believe your mistakes to be."

Alfred started towards the elevator, breaking off the conversation and giving Bruce little time to respond. Part of my brain was telling me to move, but the other part was absorbed with the look on Bruce's face, a look of self-loathing and anger and pain. I almost headed for him—I wanted to go to him—but something held me back long enough for Alfred to find me, standing in the shadows near the brick arches making up the support for the ground underneath the mansion. He met my eyes and I bit my bottom lip, unsure what to say.

"Ms. Black," he said quietly.

My eyes burned, but I shook it off and, after a moment of awkward hesitation I blazed ahead, switching to a topic rather far off the conversation I'd eavesdropped on. "I think I'll leave him to it. Did he find something on the woman who stole the pearls?"

Alfred gestured for me to step back into the elevator car ahead of him and I tucked myself into the corner. "He did. Master Bruce was able to identify the woman as Ms. Selina Kyle, a proficient burglar, and find her address, but he does not seem terribly bent on catching her."

I frowned and leaned back against the low wall of the lift car. "Does he think something else is up?"

"As she lifted his prints from the safe the pearls were in, your assumption does not seem out of the question. However, as you heard, we were not exactly discussing Ms. Kyle and her crimes."

"Alfred…" I was unsure what to say, so I bit my bottom lip and remained silent until the elevator had reached the mansion proper, with what I hoped was a meaningful look on my face. "I'm not going anywhere Alfred, as much as I may have wanted to over the past eight years, not unless Bruce wants me to go. I know—"

The butler reached out and put his hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. The small and rather enigmatic smile on his lips managed to calm me, and for the first time, I wondered if Bruce had picked up the expression from Alfred.

When the sun was all the way up and the hour was respectable, I headed into the city aimed for Wayne Enterprises. Lucius had left a message on my phone at some point, asking if I had time to assist with the transfer of some more Wayne Enterprises merchandise into Applied Sciences. I didn't know if Bruce was aware of Lucius keeping the division of the company open, and I was certain he wasn't aware of Lucius turning the place into a veritable armoury, but I figured as long as the dangerous items were kept out of the public's, and probably the wrong, hands, it was good work. Unfortunately, as it was all hush-hush, it meant all the paperwork had to be done by Lucius and me, the only two people with the knowledge of the department's existence; most of the transfer orders were filed under "designation for secure storage" and no one questioned it, especially when the order came from the CEO.

When all the paperwork was done and the hard copies were filed away in the cavernous space, I headed back to my loft to retrieve a dress and jewellery for the charity fundraiser/masquerade ball being held by Miranda Tate that evening. I'd accepted the invitation on behalf of Bruce, though I mentioned it was highly unlikely he would come, and agreed to take the place of my parents, who would send their apologies along with a healthy donation to whichever charity Ms. Tate had chosen to receive the money raised. It had been a while since I'd been to a party and part of me was looking forward to it. I may have also felt like I owed Ms. Tate something for the way her joint venture with Wayne Enterprises had gone. It didn't make any sense, my feeling like that, but I was going with it.

There was a police car parked outside the manor when I drove up the lane, sitting in front of the front door. I left my car parked parallel to the cruiser and headed for the entrance, where I intercepted the cop belonging to the car. He was only an inch or so taller than me and he was young, approachable.

"Good afternoon, Officer… Blake," I said, peering at the nametag on his uniform. "Can I help you with anything?"

"No, I think I got everything I came here for, Ms…?"

"Eleanor Black. I'm Mr. Wayne's personal assistant." I took his offered hand after adjusting my hold on the dress in my arms, and shook it, a friendly smile on my face. "Were you able to see Mr. Wayne? He doesn't like unscheduled appointments."

"So I've heard, and yes, I was." Officer Blake looked at me, a bizarre expression on his face, like he was searching my features for a clue to a question he was afraid to ask. "He wasn't what I expected—"

"Well, you can't trust everything you read."

"I suppose not. How long have you worked for Mr. Wayne?"

"Eight years. Why?"

That expression came back. It unsettled me a bit and I wanted to ask what was up. "Just curious," Blake said eventually. He took a step towards his cruiser. "It was nice to meet you Ms. Black. I assume I should get in touch with you if I want to speak to Mr. Wayne again?"

"That might be best."

I'd have to check with Bruce to see what he thought of the young cop, but if Bruce had agreed to see him, I had a feeling he wouldn't need to go through me. Better to be safe than sorry though, especially if Bruce was going to start venturing back into the cave. I handed Blake one of the cards I kept in my purse and gave him another smile before I headed inside. Bruce and Alfred were watching the car pull away from the landing above. I set my purse and the dress down on one of the tables before heading towards them.

"What was that all about?" I asked Bruce when I was within speaking distance.

"He knew who I was."

I opened my mouth to say everyone knew who he was, but the true meaning of Bruce's statement hit me before I opened my mouth. "What?" I asked, sounding a little breathless. "Is he going to tell anyone?"

"He claims to have figured it out some time ago, and I believe him. I don't think he'll tell anyone if he hasn't already."

I pressed my lips together as I tried to think of something to say to that—if Bruce believed Officer Blake wasn't a threat to the secret of Batman, than who was I to doubt him? Blake hadn't seemed like a malicious person, and perhaps his odd expression was him trying to deduce if I knew Bruce's secret as well. I ran a hand back through my hair and nodded.

"All right. I'll assume you plan to keep an eye on him regardless?"

Bruce nodded and started back down the stairs, Alfred and I following a step behind. "Alfred found connections between Bane and Daggett, something I understand you were already aware of, but it seems Daggett brought Bane and his men over here." Bruce turned to look at me. "Gordon chased a gunman into the sewers after securing the kidnapped Congressman, and when they recused him, he kept saying something about a masked man named Bane. That's what Blake came to tell me. No one except Blake believes Gordon."

"He came to tell you Gordon needs Batman." I crossed my arms under my chest and sighed. "What are you going to do?"

"I haven't decided yet. I need to talk to Mr. Fox about the funding for St. Swithin's."

"I will get Mr. Fox on the phone," Alfred said.

Bruce surprised us both by waving away the suggestion. "No. Do we still have any cars around here?"

Alfred and I shared a quick smile. "One or two, I believe. I shall pull one around for you."

As the butler vanished down the hall towards the garage, Bruce turned to me and stepped closer. "I also need an appointment at the hospital for my knee."

"Which hospital?" I asked, though I was pretty sure I knew the answer; there was a bigger smile tugging at my lips and a glint I hadn't seen in a long time lighting Bruce's eyes.

"Whichever one Gordon's in."

"I'll call it in. You'll be going to see Lucius first?" When Bruce nodded, I let the smile take over my face, a gesture Bruce returned, though with less wattage than I'd managed to muster. "Does this mean Gotham will get to see its favourite recluse out and about again?" I asked, keeping my tone on the cautious side. Bruce rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay." I held up my hands and stepped back. "I have to get something to eat before heading to the charity thing at the museum tonight. I'll see you later and you can tell me how Gordon's doing."

Bruce nodded. I pushed myself up on my toes and kissed him quickly on the lips before turning and heading back to the entrance hall where I'd left my things.

The museum hall where the party was being held was lavishly decorated and suffused in golden light. There were honest-to-God rose petals being showered about the dance floor by staff positioned on the balcony, dressed identically in white, black, and gold, and an incredible spread of food filled the tables around the room. The music and conversation mingled together to create a tolerable buzz of noise, punctuated here and there by laughter or the sound of the doors being opened to admit more guests.

I was currently standing on the balcony, looking down over the masked dancers and sipping the wine in my hand. I'd spoken to Ms. Tate, congratulating here on a beautiful gala, and she'd thanked me and my parents for the donation, and we'd parted ways. I saw her now on the other side of the balcony, mingling amongst those taking a break or catching a moment for conversation.

My attention was drawn to the main doors, along with everyone else, as a commotion rose from the gathered photographers and paparazzi. It would be some celebrity, come to spend the required time for a decent appearance, after some good publicity shots. Or something equally unimportant. I watched nonetheless, wondering which of the latest movie stars could warrant such a reaction. However, it wasn't a movie star or music star—it was Bruce, walking with his cane and exaggerating his limp a bit. He'd shaved and was wearing a suit, though the grey in his hair above his ears was visible and his face looked more lined than I remembered, but then, I hadn't seen him without the goatee in some time.

Feeling a little stunned, I watched him move across the floor towards the stairs leading up to the balcony, smiling and nodding at the curious and shocked elite of Gotham as he pushed his way through. I wasn't sure where he was headed—I didn't think he'd seen me—but he was cut off by Miranda Tate at the top of the stairs and they moved to one side to converse, the other side of the balcony. I started towards them, but Ms. Tate finished whatever she was saying before I arrived and her and Bruce parted ways, Bruce heading back down to the dance floor, his dark eyes intent.

I followed the line of his gaze as I walked and found him watching a beautiful brunette wearing a black mask and cat ears. There was something oddly familiar about her and something unsettling about the way she smiled at Bruce when she spotted him headed across the floor towards her. She looked like a cat when she smiled, smug and knowing. I spotted the pearls around her neck and wondered if this was Selina Kyle.

Curious as to what Bruce would do, I positioned myself near one of the tables and kept my gaze trained on Bruce and the woman, my arms crossed loosely, the wine glass still hanging from the fingers of one hand.

"You don't seem happy to see me," Bruce said as he cut between Selina and the man she was currently dancing with and took her in his arms. They moved towards the wall as they spun.

"You were supposed to be a recluse." She was almost sneering.

"I needed some fresh air and I was invited."

"Why don't you call the police?" she asked after a beat.

They moved away with the flow of the crowd and I could no longer hear what they were saying. I shifted so I could watch their faces. I watched surprise and anger and tension cross their faces. I watched Selina bare her teeth and snap at Bruce, watched him hold her back. She leaned closer to him as they came near again, her mouth near his ear and a dangerous look on her face. She had finished speaking by the time I could hear them again and Bruce's face told me nothing.

"You sound like you're looking forward to it," Bruce was saying.

"I'm adaptable."

They stopped moving, arms falling away from each other. "The pearls do look better on your than they did in the safe but," he reached up and unclasped the necklace with one hand, "I can't let you keep them."

I waited for her to walk away as the pearls fell into Bruce's hand and he slipped them in his pocket. But she didn't. The burglar glared at Bruce for a few seconds before she grabbed the front of his suit jacket and kissed him hard on the mouth.

A shock went through me—anger and surprise and I'd taken three steps towards them before I realized what I was doing. I stopped myself, told myself it was just a kiss. The thief ended the kiss and took off through the crowd, Bruce's eyes widening slightly in her wake. The man Selina had been dancing with before approached Bruce, handed him his cane, and told him off for "scaring" Selina away, and then Bruce turned and found me. Neither of us said anything. Bruce gave a bare nod towards the stairs and we once again found ourselves on the balcony, away from the din and more capable of a private conversation, though there was no need for him to explain. It was just a kiss.

"How did it go with Lucius?"

Bruce sighed and leaned little heavier on his cane. "The company is in worse shape than I thought."

"Maybe if you'd been paying more attention…"

"Ellie—"

I waved away whatever he was going to say. "Never mind—sorry. I'm going to head back to the manor and see what else Alfred managed to find out about Bane. If he's in Gotham, we need to be prepared," I added in a whisper.

Bruce nodded, his hand moving to my upper arm, fingers firm as he squeezed. Discreetly, he slid his hand down to mine, thumb tracing over the lines of my palm. I closed my eyes and moved closer to him. He leaned down and kissed my cheek, squeezing my hand again. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and kiss him, but instead I turned and left the museum.

Woo, long-ish chapter. That was unintentional and unexpected.

For the record, I'm finishing this one before I do any other writing. This fic is getting under my skin. It needs my focus and attention and it needs to get done. It's been almost a year. I need to get faster. Well, what I really need to do is stop writing fanfiction and focus on my original stuff, but that's another problem for another time and unlikely to happen for quite some time.

Anyways, enjoy!