This segment of the story takes place after the Final Season of Gotham TV Series which is ten years after. I decided to continue making more stories about this based on my imagination and help from the DC Comics. And I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it.

Much thanks from the bottom of my heart to all who read my fanfiction.

A day in Gotham is never different. You would always hear screams or shootings at least once a day. But I managed to make a living here. I have been working at Wayne Securities for six years now. Bruce was kind to give recommendation.

Lucius had returned to Wayne Enterprise after Bruce was old enough to rule the multi-billion company. And the former GCPD forensic expert is the one who assigned me to different places in Gotham. Sometimes I guarded a socialite under threat; sometimes the mayor; sometimes important guests from out of the city; sometimes even Arkham when they have low staffs.

Today Bruce finally returned to Gotham after then years of living overseas. He was supposed to arrive yesterday for the opening of the Wayne Tower, but his flight got delayed. I heard from Lucius that there was a bomb planted there, probably for the CEO, but he managed to disarm it with our friends. I was on the job yesterday, guarding a snobbish rich son for his birthday party, so I was unaware of the prison break in Arkham as well as the bomb in Wayne Tower.

Fortunately I am assigned to escort Bruce today. Unfortunately, with my partner. My partner and I always bicker but we have worked well together and we have solid trust. We depends our lives with each other.

I scrunched my nose because he is smoking a cigarette. I was standing with a hand on my hip; my foot was tapping impatiently. Miles Tatum, my charming partner (please do not disregard the sarcasm) was sporting the usual suit and tie, we bodyguards always wore. I could tell that he woke up late and probably not fully sober yet. He has a bed hair and awful body smell that is mixed with strong body cologne.

"We have a job and you're late," I hissed. "I was in the car for twenty minutes!"

"Relax… Brat is not here yet. I heard there's a delay," he croaked, putting on his rainbow colored socks.

I rolled my yes. How dare he insult Bruce Wayne? Bruce is a nice man. "Brat is our big boss. If Lucius heard you, you'll be fired."

"I'm too valuable to be fired," he scoffed, cigarette dangling between his teeth. "And I work longer than you. You should respect me as your senior."

"If only you act like you're 41, maybe I would! Oh, wait. You are 41, but you're acting like a baby who has just been born!"

I can't believe Lucius paired me up with him. But Lucius said that no one can put up on his behavior and he trust that I could put on a leash on him. Literally, I wish I could; maybe even teach him how to sit and roll over.

He puffed out smoke right on my face and I gritted in frustration. I twirled around, swung the door of his apartment open and stormed to the hallway. "I'll wait in the car! Five minutes or I'll go on my own!" I yelled from the corridor.

I slammed the car so loud that I flinched myself. Then I pulled out my cellphone. It was on silent since I'm working. There was one notification and I pressed on it. A smiled reached my lips as it was a message from Malik.

Salam, mom. We will be having dinner at dad's restaurant. Near our home. I love you.

I quickly typed a response to him, saying that I couldn't wait for the dinner to give him hugs and kisses. Then I ended the text with I love you too.

I ignored Tatum who had just entered the car at the driver seat. The smell of cigarette hit my nostrils again so I rolled down the window.

"Your son?" he asked, referring to the person I'm texting on the phone.

I raised my brow. How the heck he know?

"That was a motherly smile just now… told you I'm valuable to let go. I'm just too good doing my job. If you're sexting, you won't be having that kind of face."

This little fucker, my inner-self cursed.

He suddenly reversed the car, causing me to jerk forward. The safety belt dug my skin and I gasped in pain. I flashed a glared at him. "You're lucky that my son is making my day a bit better… so… behave or I'll throw you out of the window like last time."

Bruce Wayne, the young billionaire, walked out of his manor. I know I'm working and I know I should put on my poker face, but seeing him after ten years brought a smile on my lips. The young boy had grown so much. I wonder how Malik will look like ten years from now.

His raven hair was neatly combed backwards. His air of confidence defeated all of us in the area. Alfred was trailing behind him closely, while some of his staffs from the company talked to him, updating him on the sales of their business.

"Just don't drool, Muffin." I heard Tatum's leering voice in my in-ear device. "Ogling our big boss, huh?"

He had taken interest in the nickname I got from the GCPD. We have worked multiples times with the police so it doesn't take a day to learn my nickname. He used it when teasing me. I peered at him, who was standing near Bruce's car, while I was standing near the door of Wayne Manor.

I decided to heed on his teasing. "Bruce Wayne is an attractive man," I cheekily replied, closing the distance between my lips and the mic.

His stoic face remained but I could tell his eyes sparkled with amusement. Then, his mouths moved again and I listened closely. "He's like ten years younger than you."

I shifted my eyes from him to look at my employer. Bruce flashed a warm smile, striding towards me. He raised his hand to stop his staffs from following him before continued moving forwards. He is way taller than the last I saw him. I had to tilt my head up.

"Welcome back, Bruce," I greeted. "It's good to see you again. You're a manly man now."

"Thank you. It's nice to be back. You look well, Sarah," he responded, offering his arm for me to take. I raised an eyebrow. People are watching and people might assume things. But I took his arm anyway and we walked slowly towards his car. "How was working with Lucius?"

"It's been great. Thanks to him, I have a right hand." I easily wiggled my prosthetic fingers that were wrapped around his arm.

"Good to know."

"Thank you for giving me this job." I beamed at him. "You should meet Jim. I'm sure he miss you."

When I parked outside of the restaurant, I saw my family from the wide window glass panes. It is an Italian restaurant, the last one that Hassan had opened in Gotham. It is the closest one with our home. After locking my car, I jogged up to the window and knocked to get their attention.

"It's mom!" Malik shouted eagerly. His voice was muffled since I'm outside but I have no doubt that he was being loud in the restaurant. "Mom's here!" I quickly placed my index finger against my lips to quiet him down.

Izzah, my daughter I gave birth three years ago, then started to cry as she saw me. "Momma!" she wailed, raising her arms towards me but the toddler chair restricted her movement.

I turned to look at Mrs. Weller's annoyed face and gave a 'yikes' look. Quickly, I rushed to the entrance, greeting the staffs in the restaurant politely and hugged my daughter as soon as I arrived at the table. She quieted down immediately, fisting my clothes, not wanting to let me go.

"Evening, Mrs. Weller. I hope the kids behave well today," I greeted.

"They behave better than you many years ago," she retorted.

I laughed out loud and then put Izzah back into the toddler seat. I pulled her closer to me so that she won't cry again. She had her father's honey brown eyes and a dimple on her cheek. Hassan had said that she has my nose and facial structure. When I looked into my childhood photos, she does look more similar to me, just with darker skin tone.

"Hey! What's so funny?" Malik interrupted. His large green eyes were looking at us and his lips were pushed forward in a cute pout. "You guys are telling jokes without me."

"It's nothing, my sweet. My working partner was being a difficult person and Mrs. Weller is just trying to make me feel better," I said to him, caressing his light brown hair. I must admit Malik looks very similar to Kyle. Hassan was a dark skinned African American and I'm a biracial with a total Asian appearance, meanwhile Malik has a Caucasian look.

I was worried at first that he might grow up feeling conflicted of his identity so I consult with my former therapist. She said that it is better to tell him early than to wait for him to ask because some children are afraid to point out what bothers them. So since he was three years old, I told him a story of how he was born. Of course, I used fairy-tale style of vocabulary to make it interesting, fun and child-safe. But I never mentioned to him that his biological father was a criminal. I just told him that he passed away early and Hassan came to be his father to give him all the loves he deserves.

Nevertheless, I'm not worried anymore. Hassan and Malik are… were the bestest friends. They even had secrets between themselves that they don't want to share with me, which are making me green with jealousy.

I kissed Malik's cheeks much to his displeasure. "How was your day?" I asked him. Then his face became solemn, I averted my eyes from him to look at Mrs. Weller with a questioning stare. She appeared to be conflicted as well. "What happened?"

"I hit a boy," my son mumbled. I almost didn't catch what he said because his voice was so tiny. My eyes widened in shock. I wanted to probe him more for details but I held myself, biting the insides of my cheeks.

"The principal called home," Mrs. Weller said. "It happened during lunchtime."

Why didn't you tell me this sooner? My inner-self screamed.

"I don't want to worry you, Girl. It was settled already." She added, as if listening to what I was saying in my head.

"No, it's not!" Malik suddenly retorted. "Paul bullied Elina and Michael. He threw their lunch boxes into the rubbish bin! I was just trying to give him what he deserves. Why am I getting punished and he's not?"

Yep, he's totally my boy.

My heard softened a bit when I saw tears around his eyes. It was obvious that he was trying to fight them off.

"My sweet, I'm happy that you stood up for your friends. But that is not the right way," I comforted. "Hurting other people for what they did just makes you the same as them."

I should really listen to myself for once, my inner-self chuckled.

"I know. Mrs. Weller told me that. But I'm still not happy that I have to apologize to him and he didn't even apologize to Elina and Michael. That's not fair!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. But you must know that we can do good with the right way, not hitting others. Let's hope tomorrow, everything will get better." I wiped his tears away and kissed his head. "What was the name of the bully again? Full name, please."

"Lucius, my partner is not here yet," I complained as soon as he picked up my call.

An hour ago, I just finished a meeting with the parents of the bully that my boy had mention. I was angry at them that they didn't teach their son to apologize to the kids that got their lunch thrown away by their son. I had researched the background of the parents and the father is not that clean. So I did a little intimidation so that their son apologized to those kids. I hope that would make my son happy.

"He might be on the way. Late, as usual," the brainy man calmly responded. "Sarah, you know you can give him a call."

"I did. Numerous times. He ignores me. All of my calls went to voicemail. That little fucker."

We were supposed to meet with our client to arrange schedule on what time and day should he accompany them. Lucius didn't know who our client is but he told us to wait in a bar. I glanced at my watch. It's five minutes until the promised time. What if they come early? If my partner is late, it won't be a good first impression and Wayne Securities might have a bad reputation.

"Breathe in and out slowly, Sarah. Give me a few moments," he said while I sulked in my seat. After a long twenty one seconds (yes, I counted) he returned to the phone. "Based on the GPS tracker, your partner is on the way. Fast. About 100 miles per hour. He'll arrive in about three minutes."

"Right. Or he'll never arrive at all," I grumbled. 100 miles per hour? That man is crazy! "Thank you, Lucius. Appreciate it. Bye."

"Bye."

The bell at the door jingled when I placed my phone into my pockets. Then, someone sat beside me, ordering a shot of vodka. Woah… too early for that, isn't it? I felt out of place with my bottle of peach tea on the table. I turned to look at the person beside me. Okay, now he looked out of place. He wore too much for the weather. The sunglasses, scarf and cap are too much.

"Koi?" he whispered.

Oh, it's our client.

"Starfish?" I replied.

"Yes."

Actually, we have never done this before. Usually clients came to our main office to request for bodyguards and we would know their face beforehand. But this particular client refused to come in to meet Lucius and insisted on meeting in this bar with aquatic animal codenames.

Tatum and I cackled like crazy when we first heard from Lucius about this weird client. The payment was fully pain but Lucius couldn't track down the owner of the bank account.

Nevertheless, Lucius was feeling suspicious, which is why he called us up to meet this person. Since the client wanted us to choose our own codename, I picked Koi because they are pretty. Meanwhile Tatum unsurprisingly picked Moby Dick. The client will refer to himself as Starfish.

"My apologies. Moby Dick is running late," I uttered, still studying the man. He wanted to be discreet but the way he's doing it is all wrong. His outfit just screams 'notice me, damn it!'. "He'll be here in a minute."

Then we waited in silence. We were the only customers in the bar.

"Why Koi?" the man suddenly asked.

"They're beautiful, elegant and regal," I curtly replied. Then a roaring sound of motorbike could be heard from the distance. The sound became closer real quick. The engine died and then, the door slammed opened.

I glared at the newcomer, biting down a slur. We can't fight in front of a client. Tatum strutted inside, sitting a few seats further from us. At least, he had the decency to make his hair this time, but I noticed lipstick print at his neck.

Stupid Tatum! My inner-self screamed. If you want to have sex, at least time it well!

"Moby Dick?" the client asked.

Tatum loudly ordered a bottle of Jack. I palmed my face in embarrassment at his attitude. How is he a valuable asset to Wayne Securities?

He chugged down the alcoholic drink as soon as the bartender placed it on the counter. He did a scan through at our client and sauntered towards us. Placing an arm around my shoulders, he raised an eyebrow. I suppressed the urge to shove him away.

"Basil Karlo?" he breathed out. I turned my face away as I smelled the stench of the alcohol from his mouth.

Our client became tensed. I could not see his face very well but his body gestures told me he was uncomfortable. I was both confused and amazed to how Tatum recognized this person just by looking at his fully covered face.

Wait the second…

Basil Karlo?

The Basil Karlo?

I almost squealed in glee, but I controlled my facial reaction.

"The small starfish tattoo on the back of your neck. The Karlo brand cap you're wearing… it was a fail line. No one would wear it except for the man himself… and based on the news two days ago, I'm guessing you are Basil Karlo. The fresh tan lines around your wrists and the scarf you're wearing confirmed my hunches. You recently shoot a short movie in Louisiana. And the scarf was worn by your co-actor, Felicia Gomez, whom you were having a scandal with," my partner coolly spilled out. "I was a big fan of Miss Gomez and her very… eye-opening poses in Hush Magazine."

Oh my God, it's The Basil Karlo!

All of a sudden, our client stood up, causing the stool to scrape the floor loudly. Tatum and I stared at him closely. I wasn't sure how I looked like but I think my eyes were looking at him in awe.

"Let's talk in your car," he said in a nervous manner.

I have been neglecting the news recently because I was busy of work and being a mother. Each time I reach home, I spend time with my children. Apparently, two days ago, Felicia Gomez was found dead in her apartment with blood written on her wall: HE'S MINE!

Whoa. Talking about jealousy, my inner-self gaped.

And this is not the first time. When he got close to someone or have a girlfriend, they always got injured. But recently, two women were killed. The first was three months ago. When they brought their relationship to public, she died the next day. But the reason she died was closed from the public. The media only mention that she died because of a robbery gone wrong.

"I-I was careful. I didn't even let my manager or stylist know that I stayed in Felicia's apartment that night. But the next day…" He couldn't finish his words.

"Gomez was in a bloodbath," Tatum completed.

We were inside the company car that I used to get to the bar. It's a black bulletproof sedan with tinted windows.

"The GCPD is pursuing the killer as we speak. But I don't trust them to guard me properly. Being under their protective custody alone does not guarantee my safety," the celebrity said.

"The killer threatens you too?" I asked.

"Yes, there was another message in Felicia's bathroom which I paid the media not to reveal." His eyes were filled with fear. "I still remember the exact words… 'I will rip your heart up so that you won't give it to anyone else. Wait for me, my love.'"

I could understand his fear as someone who has experienced a maniac admirer. "You said you are under GCPD's protection custody. Why are you here alone?" I questioned.

"The fact that I could sneak out without them knowing tells me how incompetent they are. That's why I go to Wayne Securities."

"Wayne Securities beat the cops," Tatum laughed.

"The GCPD has their hands full with all the crimes lurking around Gotham City. They are overworked and underpaid. But they are doing their best," I snapped at him, defending my friends. Then I eyed Karlo. "Mr. Karlo, we need to have all information on your schedule and daily activities as well as future appointments. Then we can arrange some securities for you. Might be us or other agents."

"I want you two, now that I have met you. I don't trust others. The secret admirer always knows something. I want this to be as discreet as possible. Less people know about this the better," said Karlo. "And please, call me Baz."

He looked directly into my eyes, making my cheeks warm. I am a fan of him. I watched all his movies and theatrical performances. He is a superb actor. And very very handsome.

Tatum cleared his throat so I immediately averted my eyes. I could not deny there was some sort of attraction there. I'm screwed.

Yup, I'm so screwed, my inner-self appalled as I glanced at the rear mirror to see that he was staring back at me.

My phone buzzed when I was driving towards my client's house. The screen said Charlie, but it's actually Lucius. I always joked that he's Charlie while Tatum and I are his angels.

"Please get that, will you?" I said to Tatum.

He answered the phone and placed it against his ear. "Bimbo's driving," he uttered. I ignored his insult to focus on the road. Road rage is the last thing I need especially with our client sitting at the back. "Okay, noted." I heard Tatum said in a rude tone. "Yes, she's fine. If you're worried, why don't you come down from the office and meet her."

I rolled my eyes at his rudeness towards Lucius. He hung up the phone and threw it in the compartment.

"Hey! You're buying me a new one if that's broken," I fumed.

"You're rich! You could buy many of those. You could even buy another one for your son," sassed Tatum.

"You're married?" Karlo quipped. He sounded surprised.

"I have two kids," I replied, smiling uneasily at him from the rear view mirror. I almost said something about Hassan but I bit my tongue. Then I hit Tatum's knee when I saw from the corner of my eyes that he was opening his mouth again, knowing well that he will say something despicable.

He yelled in pain. "Fuck! What the Hell was that for?! He massaged his knee to ease away the pain.

"Oops. Sorry. The prosthetic hand malfunction sometimes," I lied and he knew it. "I'll take a look on it later. We wouldn't want our dear Tatum to limp, aren't we?" I could feel his glare at the side of my face. "Now, what was the call all about?"

"GCPD had put on BOLO on our client. The cops outside your house just notice you went missing," he said to the man behind us.

"How reliable," mumbled Karlo sarcastically.

"How did Lucius know he's with us? He didn't even know the identity of the client," I wondered.

"Lucius finally tracked down the owner of the account and tracked his cellphone. He knows," Tatum replied.

Once we arrived at his house, the first thing Tatum did was laughing dramatically at the GCPD officers, jeering at them. "Why don't you guys make an appointment with optometrist? Must be something wrong, ya know."

I sighed, walking past him, towards the officers. "Officer Ralli," I greeted. "The precinct had informed you the details?"

"Yup," he replied. He was one of the officers who were presence when I shot Kyle. Time really had done things to him. And stress, probably. His previously raven hair is now has streaks of gray hair. His wrinkles on his forehead are more prominent since he was frowning at Tatum. "Why are you still working with that monkey? You deserve so much better," he muttered.

I forced a small laugh. "Not all dreams come true, sir."

Officer Ralli and his partner chuckled. Then he introduced his partner and me. I shook his hand. He was a bit surprised, seeing my prothetic hand. His name is Martin Walker.

"That monkey over there with Mr. Karlo is Miles Tatum," I said. "My partner. Try to keep your hands to yourself. You might find him… punchable."

"So we're working together?" Officer Walker asked.

"Yup. Looking forward working with you."

Tatum strongly suggested that we should check Karlo's house for any hidden cameras or bugs, so I took the bottom floor and he took the second. Only time like this Tatum is useful. He has sharp sense and intellect which are very surprising sometimes. Officer Ralli and Officer Walker canvassed the frontyard and backyard.

I had finished scanning the living room so I moved to the hallway and then into the dining room. I felt blessed to be in a house of a great artist. Karlo was in the kitchen, preparing something to drink for his guards.

Am I going to drink tea that the Basil Karlo make? My inner-self squealed.

I bit down a smile and continued waving the device in my hand for wiretapping devices at the walls. There were so many pictures on the wall. From the living room to the corridor until the dining room. I tried not to stare on them too much but one picture caught my attention. All of the people in the picture were smiling happily, wearing colorful baggy clothes and showing 'peace' signs with their hands, except for one. Hassan was in the middle of the crowd, holding a huge trophy. His young face showed pure joy, lifting the trophy in the air. I found a young Karlo, standing right beside my husband, with his arm around his shoulders.

"You studied in Gotham University?" I asked blindly, failing to stop my mouth. I heard an answer of confirmation from him. "This… is my husband." I pointed at my lover on the picture and turned my head to Karlo. My eyes began to water. I closed my eyes for a brief moment to compose myself.

A curious expression plastered on his face as he left the kitchen to approach me. He looked at the person that I pointed at. "You married Hassan? Well… he never invited me," he talked to himself.

"Twelve years ago. It was just a small wedding at my hometown."

"His nickname was The Conqueror because he ruled the stage when he danced. He's the best amongst us. I could never beat him."

Hassan had mentioned about this hip hop dance club when he was still in campus, but he quitted not so long after due to a fight between the members. He never mentioned names, but I had a feeling that he was involved in the fight. Karlo must have seen my serious expression because he placed a hand on my shoulder. I snapped out of my train of thoughts quickly and moved away from his touch.

"Are you all right?" He was concern. Karlo is still an acquaintance of Hassan so he should know, right?

"Hassan had passed..." I gulped, attempting to stop the trembling of my lips. I could hear a faint intake of breath from the actor. "Two years ago, in a plane crash." It was just a few of months after the birth of my second child. It was very challenging that time, but Lee, Mrs. Weller and Beth were with me all the time.

"I-I didn't know… I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm so sorry."

"Thank you." Then I switched on the device in my hand, suppressing the endless pain in my heart. "I better continue the scanning."

"Of course." He smiled apologetically. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

First Chapter of Only Human: Remnants. Fuhhhhhhh… *wipes sweat*

I felt bad killing off Hassan.