A/N: I just wanted to respond to a reviewer about the flow of the story, and you are absolutely right! It was not written to be broken up, but as one long story. However I was impatient to get it up even though parts in the middle hadn't quite been completed, so you're getting bits and pieces as they come. The rest should go up much faster and hopefully the breaks won't be as jarring. Anyway thanks so much to everyone who's reading. Your kind comments keep me going!
2058
"Hey! Wake up amigo!" Det. Henry Peters called out as he entered Ben's office. "You still mooning over that girl?"
"No," Ben replied darkly.
"Liar." Ben looked up at his partner questioningly. "You didn't even ask me who I was talking about."
"I'm working on the case, Henry, just like you."
"I'm not a fool Hudson. I know you went to the funeral this morning."
"Just checking out to see if anyone suspicious showed up." Ben spread his hands out in a gesture to show the point was obvious.
"Alone? And besides this little reconnaissance, what have you done? Investigate the Kobras? What's that all about?"
"I'm not at liberty to say. It's a hunch."
"I've never known you to act like this - going out on your own, not sharing info, and completely obsessed with the Wayne chick - and I'm not the only one to notice. The captain's been asking questions. You're getting in over your head. What's so special about this girl besides a nice ass and a nicer bank account?"
"Shut up," Ben gritted through clenched teeth.
"See," Henry said pointing a finger at Ben. "You're taking this way too personal."
"She's…she's…special. You should have seen her today. All alone. So helpless. She needs me." Then he looked up, amazed he'd actually said the words.
"That's bad news," Henry said quietly, casting his eyes to the floor. "We haven't exactly ruled her out as a suspect."
"What?!" Ben slapped his desk enraged. "She couldn't have possibly done anything like that!"
Henry, his partner and mentor, looked him straight in the eyes. "First rule of detection – follow the money."
"That's ridiculous," Ben spat.
"I'm not saying I believe it, I'm just saying you may be blinded as far as she's concerned. Lots of rumors are floating around about your girl. A lot of people are sayin' she ain't even Wayne's kid."
"Why would anyone say something like that?"
Henry shrugged. "He was well into his seventies when she was born. He may have been the town stud back in the day, but now…"
Ben held up his hand. "It's not impossible. Besides just look at this." He turned his computer monitor toward the other man. It showed a picture of Bruce Wayne giving a speech some fifty years earlier. "She's got his eyes, his smile, his…"
"Dude, what are you doing?"
"I was just doing some background research."
"That's not what I meant. This infatuation is going to get you fired. Or worse."
Ben looked at his friend thoughtfully for a moment and then stood and pulled on his coat. "It's not an infatuation."
He started for the door. "Where are you going?"
"Up to Wayne manor. I have some questions."
"This is career suicide man, don't do it."
Ben whirled on his partner. "What career? What do we do that's so important? When was the last big bust we did, huh?"
Henry frowned at him. "Last week we took down that crime boss, Desautel."
"No, Batman did that. He left Desautel and his boys hogtied amidst a pile of damning evidence. All we had to do was cart him off. Without Batman…without Batman this city would fall apart."
"What does this have to do with the Wayne case?"
"I don't know, nothing. I'll see you around."
Grace's head pounded as the last of the mourners filed away from the gravesite. It was unseasonably hot in Gotham and she had sweltered all morning during the funeral inside a black wool dress. She'd been surprised to find it in her mother's closet, having never known Mardi to wear anything black, but it fit, and was certainly appropriate to the occasion.
So many wanted to pay their respects, but Grace still found herself alone in the sea of people, watching Mary surrounded by her second son Matt and his family, a beautiful red-headed wife and three red-headed children all under the age of five. She avoided all the sympathetic condolences that she could, until finally she was allowed to be alone with her family. The fresh graves and their pristine markers sat atop the hill not far from her grandparents and the brother who had died even before Isabella was born.
Grace stood there for so long as the sun beat down on her, sweat dripping along her back like her whole body was crying. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I know I should do something, I know I should avenge you, but I…I just can't. I've failed you in so many ways."
Her tears watered the grass while high in the brilliant blue sky above birds chirped gaily, unconcerned that this was the worst day of her entire life, and about to get much worse.
Her moment of solitude was broken when a shadow moved across her. "Hello Grace," the silky female voice said from behind. It was a voice she'd know anywhere, and one she would do anything to never have to hear again.
She didn't even look back. "What are you doing here?" she asked coldly.
"I came to pay my respects."
She made a sound that was half laugh half choke. "What respect? You hate us remember?"
A sigh came from behind. "It figures you'd remember that. I know it won't make you feel any better, but I was distraught over my mother's death and I blamed him for it, and by extension I blamed all of you as well."
"You're right," Grace said. "It doesn't make me feel any better." This time she did turn around and even preparing for the shock didn't stop the grip of pain. The resemblance was still uncanny. She looked almost the same of course, except some graying in the hair and a face that looked a little more haggard, but still far younger looking than her forty-some years. "Do you have any idea what your appearance did to my mother?"
The woman nodded unenthusiastically and glanced at the row of headstones. "So is anyone else going to take up the mantle?" she asked.
"No."
"Really? I figured the old man would have successors picked out and ready to go."
"He did and they're dead too," Grace said flatly.
The woman looked at her with what could almost be called sympathy. "Do you have any idea who did it?"
"Yes. I've told the police. Everything. It's all over now as far as I'm concerned."
"That's a little surprising to hear, from Batman's kid and all."
"I'm also my mother's kid. And I have a life to live."
There was more uncomfortable silence, then the woman said, "Listen I'm not really good at this family stuff, but I want you to call me if you need anything."
"Never," Grace said with venom. "We are NOT family. A few shared chromosomes do NOT make us family."
There was that small smile again, the one that sent chills up her back. "Yeah, my thoughts exactly, but at least I tried, right?"
"I want you to leave and don't ever come near me, or my nephew, again. Leave Gotham and don't come back."
"And how are you going to stop me?"
"I'm sure you're wanted by the police somewhere for something," she threatened.
The woman nodded lazily. "Yeah, I'm sure I am. Well then. Take care."
As she started to walk away, Grace called out, "Wait!" She turned back with a curious expression. "Knowing my dad he probably left you something. You know, in his will. How can I get it to you?"
She looked up at the sky for a moment then looked back at Grace. "Just give it to charity. Start up a fund for stray cats. Okay?"
"Fine."