A/N:  This is just a little 'concept' chapter that resulted from a reader's request.  It's not really integral to the story itself, but it's an interesting POV.  A new real chapter will be coming soon. 

The Diary of Isabella M. Wayne

Dear Diary,

            In honor of my first full day home I'm making my first diary entry. I've had this journal since my birthday last year.  It's very nice with a cloth cover and little embroidered flowers, plus it has a little lock on it to keep out the snoops, but I left it here at the house because, frankly, nothing ever happened at the Bellweather School for Freaks and Geeks worth recording.  And it already seems like a bad dream, though I have to say I miss Tiffany and Haven.

            This morning I asked if I could burn my uniforms in a big, celebratory bonfire in the back yard, thinking it would be both symbolic and cathartic.  Dad just shook his head and said no.  Mom arched an eyebrow and said, "I think not.  You should donate them to those in need."  And she's supposedly the one with a sense of humor.  But who is she kidding?  What inner city kid is going to want to wear a blazer with some prep school logo on it?  It'd make much better kindling.

            I gotta tell you though, seems are a little strange around the house.  Something's wrong with my folks.  They barely looked at each other last night at dinner and whenever they did speak they just look strained and unhappy.  I don't know, maybe it's just my imagination.

Dear Diary,

            Well he did it!  Dad got Mom to agree to let me go to high school, and not just any high school either.  It's the same one Terry goes to.  Yeah me!  Today was my first day.  You should see this place, it's huge.  There's like twice as many students in my class alone as there was in the entire Bellweather Prison for Uninteresting Losers.  I've got some pretty schway classes and I've already met a couple of Terry's friends who seem nice, though it does have its share of jerkwads.  This afternoon there was a pep rally for homecoming.  The cheerleaders came out and performed for everyone.  Whoop-di-do.  Dana (that's Terry's girlfriend :p) was among them in her skimpy little short skirt and tight sweater.  Of course I can see why he likes her - she actually has breasts.  Who do I have to kill to get a pair of those?

            Things don't seem to be getting any better between my parents.  I'm sure Mom's been crying though she tries to hide it.  They're hardly ever in the same room together anymore, except for supper and I'll tell you Diary, at this point I'm grateful I can't hear, because it makes it so easy to play dumb.  I even tried to tell a knock-knock joke at dinner tonight, and while I'm sure the material wasn't much, they didn't even crack a pity smile.  This is NOT looking good.

Dear Diary,

            Major happenings today Diary!  You absolutely will not believe what I found out.  But I'm getting ahead of myself.  Just sit back and listen to this story.

            Okay, third period Philosophy was just about to enter the record books as The Most Boring Class in the history of mankind when the fire alarm goes off.  So we all dutifully grab up our things and march out in a calm and orderly fashion as you're supposed to do during fire drills, but get this – it wasn't a drill!  Some moron in the chem lab on the third floor put some sulfur and magnesium in a beaker and put the whole thing over a flame.  Well you can just imagine what happened next.  Whoosh!  Huge fireball.   So we're all out front watching flames pouring out the window waiting for the fire department to come when word starts spreading through the crowd that this nerdy guy (I think his name is Willie) is STILL up there!  I saw some dork make a bad joke about how he's gonna wind up well-done.  Idiots.  So we're all just waiting, not being able to do anything because we're just kids right?  But then I happen to be watching Terry and see him kind of casually move away from the crowd and walk around the side of the building.  'Weird,' I think to myself and since I've got nothing better to do I follow him.

            Now I know what you're thinking, it's an unhealthy and futile obsession with a guy who barely knows I exist (or even if he knows I exist will never get past the fact that I'm Bruce Wayne's daughter.  Sheesh, why is THAT the defining element of my life, I ask you??  Sure I've got a trust fund bigger than the federal budget, but I am still human.  If you prick me do I not bleed?), but I don't think it's unhealthy at all, and if there's anything I know, it's that with enough perseverance NOTHING is futile.  Someday, I promise you, he will be mine!

            But, back to subject.  I'm following Terry, and he almost catches me as he looks around before going into the door of a classroom, but I was able to hide behind a bit of shrubbery.  So I wait for a few minutes wondering if he maybe left something in there he wanted to grab before the whole school goes up in flames, and then – you will NOT believe this – Batman comes out!  Black costume, pointy ears and all.  So I wait hunched down behind this bush and he shoots off using those schway rocket boots of his up to the roof, no doubt to rescue the dweeb in the chem lab.  After he's gone I stand up and sneak over to the classroom door and open it very slowly, peeking inside just in case, but there was nothing, nada, zilch inside and no way other than the one door to get out.  I did see Terry's backpack and his clothes stuffed messily inside like he had no time to fold them neatly.

            Okay, Diary, just in case you missed the implications here, I'm gonna spell it out to you:  Terry McGinnis is Batman!  Whoa.   So at this moment I'm thinking, 'I wonder what Dad's going to think about this?'  And then it only gets creepier.

            The fire department finally shows up and takes care of the inferno on the third floor.  Of course, Batman saved the little nerd boy, FYI.  The principal says everyone can go home early – duh!- and the kids take off.  I grab my cell and call the service Mom's hired to drive me to and from school. (She doesn't trust me to take public transportation.  I sometimes wonder if she even trusts me to breathe on my own.  I'm surprised she hasn't hired someone to follow me around and make sure I remember to inhale.  Picture me rolling my eyes here Diary.)  So after waiting for, like, ever for the car to show up, we head home, but this guy is driving slower than death and he ignores my every attempt to go faster.  I swear my mother must have given him strict orders to ignore me!

            Finally we get home (amazingly it is still the same day!) I run inside and somehow Terry's gotten there ahead of me (well not so surprising – more eye-rolling) and he's talking to Dad in the front parlor so I run in like it's no big deal and say hi to them.  Then I casually ask Dad to step out so I can talk to him.  Out in the foyer I tell him what I saw.  He just stares at me for a second and then goes back into the parlor.  I was a little confused over his reaction, but let's face facts, Dad's not like other people.  I follow him in and get there in time to see him say, "…saw you change."

            Man did Terry's eyes get big.  He looks at me, then looks back at Dad, and then says, "I checked to make sure no one was following, I swear."

            "Apparently not good enough," my dad tells him.  Then he turned away and I couldn't catch what else he said, but Terry just makes this face and heads toward the study.  Dad takes my arm and moves me over to sit down in one of the armchairs and he sits down on the hassock in front of me.  After a few seconds he says, "You have to promise not to tell your mother about this.  She doesn't need anything else upsetting her right now."

            Well I have to say this was one of those moments where I had a chance to prove I'm not just an immature kid, and yet I failed miserably.  I knew something was up with my parents and this was the perfect opportunity to find out what it was all about.  But did I think about that at the time?  "I promise I won't say a word," I tell him without a second thought.  Diary, I'm telling you he actually looked relieved.  It didn't occur to me at the time, but I think he was worried I WAS going to ask what was up between them.

            Then he starts talking, and what he tells me absolutely blows my mind.  HE was Batman years and years ago!  And now he helps Terry continue the job, the brains behind the brawn so to speak, which really makes total sense – he may have the cutest buns in the entire city of Gotham, but Einstein Terry's not.

Dear Diary,

            Remember when I told you about Dad being in the hospital?  Mom told me it was because he'd had trouble with his heart and they were running tests so no visitors allowed.  She really thinks I fall for this crap.  Of course she doesn't know that I really know what happened – that psycho inventor with the sound-suit tried to drive him crazy.  Well Batman eventually took the creep out, but before the cops confiscated all his inventions, Dad asked Terry to bring home one of his prototypes, a huge helmet-like thing.  Dad's been tinkering with it a bit and today he had me to put it on.

            You wouldn't think there'd be much to hear in a cave thirty feet below ground, but let me tell you there is.  The flutter of bat wings, the drip of water from the stalactites, even the disgusting licking noise Ace was making, all of it came at me at once and I just stood there in awe listening to the very whisper of the air current or the rustle of my feet against the rough floor, every minute sound sent a shiver down my spine.  Then I heard the most incredible sound of all.  My dad spoke to me from behind.  I had no clue what the words were – after years of reading the shape of words, I'd almost completely forgotten the sound of them! – but I knew my dad's voice as if it had just been yesterday.  I turned around to look at him and he repeated the question and this time I put the sounds with what he was saying – "How does it fit?" – and it made sense.  I nodded, unable to do anything except just stare at him.  For a minute it was like I was five years old again and I wanted to crawl into his lap and have him read me a story, but then he asked me another question – "Is it working?" – and reality crowded in.

            "I think so.  It's just going to take some getting used to," I told him.  And that was an understatement.  He seems to think he can use the technology and getting down to a more manageable size for me.  I have to say I really lucked out when it comes to my dad.  I wouldn't trade him for anyone else in the whole world.