A/N This is set three years later. Rachel still lives in Metropolis and is the editor at the Daily Planet. She keeps in touch with Bruce and calls him regularly.

Chapter One-There's a Kid in the Batcave

'Come on, Bruce, I know you're there,' she thought impatiently as she waited for her grandfather to pick up the phone.

"Ah, Rachel. Nice to hear from you."

"Hi, Bruce. Are you feeling OK? You don't look so good," Rachel replied, concerned.

"I'm eighty-seven years old. I'm not supposed to look good," he growled.

"True."

"How's Kent and the rest of the Metropolis crowd?"

Bruce's eyes flashed and Rachel got the real question easily.

"She's fine. Growing up fast, though."

"Well, Metropolis is a far better place for her to grow up than Gotham City."

"Agreed. I've got an article to finish and a layout to arrange, so I'll let you go."

"Alright. Your parents would be proud of you, Rachel. Especially for doing this by yourself."

"Thanks Bruce. I do wonder sometimes."

Bruce coughed suddenly, a loud hacking cough that made Rachel worry. It also made her finalize her decision.

"Take some medicine or something," she instructed.

She hung up the phone and gathered her papers. Rachel called a quick staff meeting and explained she'd e-mail assignments from Gotham.

"Your grandfather is sick?" asked Jesse Palmer.

"Yes," Rachel replied sadly. "I have to take care of him."

"What about-"

"She's going too. It's going to be just fine."

"But Miss Grayson, we need you here," Michelle Brown pleaded.

"You'll be fine, Michelle. You won't even know I'm gone."

Rachel made one stop on her way home. She let herself into her apartment, smiling at the tiny form she carried. She turned on the news, tucked the tiny form in, and began to pack for the trip to Gotham. It was nearly ten o'clock when she left, holding a thermos of coffee in her hand. After making sure the suitcases were in the trunk, she took off.

It was three a.m. when she arrived. She lifted the tiny form carefully and held the suitcases in her other hand. She'd come in through the cave, so she had no keys to worry about.

Rachel trudged up the stairs wearily. She found her old bedroom, ticked the tiny form in again and changed into pajamas. She collapsed into her bed and fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.

"What are you doing here?" Bruce asked, entering the main dining room to find a small feast laid out on the long table.

"Taking care of you. You need it. Look at yourself, Bruce. You know you're sick."

"If you think you're taking care of me, Rachel, go ahead and think so. You made breakfast. Since when can you cook?"

"Since I was seven. You just never asked. I made bacon, eggs, blueberry muffins and apple juice. No more coffee for you."

"I am not a child, you know. Where's McGinnis?"

Rachel's face stiffened. "Haven't seen him. Why?"

"He usually comes by before work to get some coffee and discuss possible leads on any cases we might have. That's all."

"Oh. Sit down, Bruce, your breakfast is getting cold."

"Where's-"

"Watching a movie upstairs. She's got her toys, too, so she won't be poking around and accidentally finding the Batcave."

"Wouldn't want her to become her namesake, would we?"

"No. Not ever," Rachel said firmly.

"Bruce?"

"Dining room."

Rachel hurried into the kitchen.

"Was someone here?" Terry asked suspiciously.

"Nurse," Bruce replied.

"Oh," Terry said mildly, pouring a cup of coffee.

"Anything interesting happen last night?" Bruce inquired.

"I stopped a robbery by the Jokers, but nothing from Corpus."

"Shame you don't have Firewing," the older man remarked casually.

Terry flinched at the name Firewing. Rachel, his Rachel, had been Firewing.

Hoping Bruce hadn't noticed, Terry asked, "Why do you bring her up?"

"I talked to her yesterday, is all."

"How is she?" Terry wanted to know.

"Fine, just fine."

"She won't some home, will she?"

"To Rachel, home was Jump City before her father died. She has never been quite the same as she was when she was eight years old."

'So true,' Rachel thought.

"No one deserves that kind of pain," Terry said fiercely.

"My thoughts exactly. If you don't go soon you'll be late."

"I'm gone. I'll be by later, OK?"

"Knock your socks off."

Terry rolled his light gray eyes and left.

"He misses you, you know," Bruce remarked quietly.

"It's his own fault," Rachel said cruelly.

"Maybe."

Bruce's simple sentence rung in Rachel's head all day. As she typed her article, she thought maybe she'd been wrong to leave Gotham. At the park, she realized Terry had wanted to explain and apologize. Maybe it hadn't been his fault. Perhaps her aching, lonely heart had caused this pain. Sure, Terry had been part of the equation, but she had really been most of it.

"Mommy! Watch me!"

Rachel smiled as a little girl slid down a slide. The little girl laughed and played as if she'd never been unhappy. Rachel herself had been like that, before her Daddy had died. Gathering up her bundle, she returned to Bruce's.

Terry entered the Batcave, angry that Corpus had gotten away again.

"A, B, C, D…"

'I must be going crazy. I hear someone singing the ABC song.'

"G, H, I, J…"

He turned a chair around to sit down, but he couldn't. A little girl was already sitting there.

Dun, dun, dun! #Gasp# A little girl in the Batcave? Whatever shall Terry do?

R&R!

-iluvrobbie