As night once again enveloped Gotham in its shrouded shadows, a dark figure brooded as it careened down the roads outside the city. The Batman was unsettled. He did not enjoy the feeling.

For the second time the tumbler found itself caring it's grim passenger down the various lanes that led to the Greentree Estate. The girl had protected his identity. Even when she knew he knew, and yet he did not acknowledge her. She still hadn't said anything. That meant something. Especially in someone of her age. It meant a lot. And not just to the Bat.

He found that he could not leave her thinking less of the Batman. This one person who was not afraid of him, who had- hugged him. The Batman. The monster. Even Alfred had called the Batman that, at one time. And that simple act meant more to him than he could express.

Of course, he did not voice this, not even to himself. As he wended his way through the perimeter security, he rationalized the delay in his patrol with concern for his secret. But that didn't really fool him, it hadn't fooled Alfred either, but Bruce had long ago come to the conclusion that Alfred knew everything.

The caped form alighted silently on the roof.

A light tapping pulled the little girl from the edges of a dream. Her eyes snapped open, though she moved not a muscle otherwise, as if afraid to scare the noise away, or have it notice her. What could it be? Her mind poured over the possibilities. It could be a tree branch, or a monster, or… the Batman.

The tapping came again. She slowly turned over and her slight movement caused the noise to cease. It was dark, but the moon light that bled through the clouds allowed her to discern the vague outline of a horned helm through the lace curtains. She carefully slid out of her covers and padded up to her window seat. A small part of her was still a little, tiny bit mad at him, and she was almost tempted to not answer. But he was her hero, he had saved her. Taken away the bad men, and promised to protect her. Even she knew enough not to drive away a guardian angel. She slid open the window.

He sat quietly, stillness radiating off him, observing the child in the ruffled, girlish nightgown. For her part she seemed content to sit silently, mirroring his posture.

"Thank you." He growled. The child jumped slightly, she had almost stopped expecting him to speak, or this him anyway.

"I didn't-"she hesitated "I didn't think it was very nice. Pretending not to know me."

"I'm sorry." He was silent again, unsure how to continue, though as always, he showed no sign of his inner struggle. "It's important that no one know. That you tell no one." His voice was grim.

"Because then the others would be afraid of you." The Bat was startled. He had never considered that, but:

"Yes. Among other things."

"Okay." Another pause. "You're not mad are you?" she asked with trepidation. The Batman looked questioningly at her. "Mad at me for finding out. We'll- still be friends, right?" she asked trembling slightly.

"Always." Replied the Dark Knight. Jenn smiled a watery smile of relief as she clutched her nightgown to her. The outside air was cold. The Batman silently cursed himself, what would Leslie say about this? Almost without thought, the Bat reached out and gathered up the young girl, wrapping her in the long folds of his dark cloak. Now, normally Jenn would protest being held like this, being, after all almost six and a half, and not a baby anymore. But it was different with the Batman. Different even, then her father. She hadn't felt so secure since the last time her mother had held her. She snuggled into the crook of the Dark Knight's arm, barley able to feel the faint traces of body heat radiating through his armor. Sleepily she gazed up at the forbidding line of his mouth, and the warm, chocolate eyes that gave lie to the rest. At least when they looked at her.

"Do you always act stupid when you're not Batman?" she asked eyes half closed. Caught so unawares was he by the blunt, strait forward way of the not quite seven year old, he actually let out a deep, gravelly chuckle. To the girl, it reminded her of the purring of a cat, a sound of joy that came from deep inside, but was rarely herd.

"Most of the time."

"Oh. That could be fun."

Slowly the Batman's internal chronometer ticked away the seconds. The City was calling him. His City. And he could not stay here. Very carefully he slipped wraith-like across the purple draped room and set his precious bundle in the large lilac bed, cautiously pulling up the lavender covers. Softly gloved hands brushed away a stray wisp of hair that had fallen from the child's braid. Then he was gone. A shadow in a sea of violet. On to darker business. Leaving behind a small legacy.

One day, the little girl promised herself, one day she would be like the Batman. Perhaps a partner? And together they would help people like her mom. Stop them from being hurt, killed. Batman did all that he could, but he was just one person. Anyways, her mom had always told her that two heads are better than one.

Besides, Batman was too sad. She made him laugh, and he needed to do that more often. See? She'd make a perfect partner for the Dark Knight.

The small girl wormed deeper into her covers, dreaming of caves, and capes, and bats, and little girls who grew into heroes.

One day…