"Um, yes!" I all but shout. "Do I get a costume? Am I a sidekick now? Do I get a superhero name?"

"Don't make me rescind the offer." Bruce threatens, so I shut up. "There should be some clothes in the cave that will work. There should be some body armour in there too." He's barely finished his sentence before I'm flying down the hallways towards the Bat Cave. This is going to be great!

I find the clothing and armour easily, when my eyes land on another item in the cupboard. I reach in and pull it out slowly, my mind racing.

"That's yours." Bruce says from behind me. "If you want it." I look up to him, and his face is perfectly serious. I look back to the item in my hands, and his meaning is clear. He got me a mask. My own mask. It's slightly smaller than Bruce's, and even without trying it, I know it will fit my face perfectly.

It's more than just a mask though, and that knowledge makes it seem heavier than it is. If I accept this mask, I'm accepting all of this. Fighting crime and siding with Bruce and, most painfully, accepting that I can't see Riddler anymore.
Not that I've heard from him for the last two weeks anyway.
I push those thoughts away, and turn back to face Bruce.
And put on the mask.

?

We arrive at the Bowery in good time, but my excitement has me nearly jumping out of my skin. I climb out of the Bat Mobile, and nervously adjust my Kevlar padding. It restricts my movement a little more than I'm used to, but I can still move freely enough.

"Keep close, and follow my instructions exactly." Bruce says for the thousandth time. I roll my eyes, but he doesn't see.

"Yes sir. But I think I can handle a few low level thugs." I reply.

"Confidence is okay. Arrogance can get you killed." He warns. "Penguin's men aren't known for their brains, but they are known for their willingness to attack anyone and anything."

"Got it."

"Here," he hands me a few razor sharp batarangs. "You might not be great at throwing these yet, but if anyone gets close to you, they are good for slashing at eyes. That will stop an attacker, at least for a moment. Now, we need to move. Follow me, keep down, and don't do anything stupid." He finishes the sentence with a hard stare. I nod in understanding, and we move.

Creeping through a dark ally, I start to hear voices up ahead. We move silently forward, until I can see figures in the dimly lit parking lot up ahead. Six men, standing in a loose circle around the boot of a car. One of the men is holding a duffle bag.

"Arms deal?" I whisper under my breath, scared to make a noise. Bruce nods, scowling under his mask.

"The man in the cap is Jack Renner. Known arms dealer. I've dealt with him before." He replies. The low, gravelly tone of his voice sends a shiver through me that I don't understand. Before I have time to dwell on it, Renner reaches into the trunk of the car and pulls out a large gun, showing it off to the other men. Before he can fire a shot, a glinting batarang goes flying through the air, impaling the side of the car inches away from Renner's thigh.

The men's heads shoot up in our direction so fast it's almost comical. The funny side is somewhat lessened by the fact that now they're all holding guns.

"Looks like we have a problem with a flying rodent, boys." Renner sneers, and I hear a chorus of guns being cocked. For the first time my fear out ways my excitement, and I look to Bruce.

I'm momentarily struck by the intense look on his face. I can almost hear him thinking, planning out how best to take care of the situation. There's a kind of deadly beauty to him, a dark outline in a darker ally. But I force myself to focus on the situation at hand.

Bruce gives me a signal to stay put, and uses his grappling hook to soar up to the roof of the building to our left. I have a nerd moment when I see him, shadow against the night sky, crouched on the ledge of the roof.

I look back to the men, worried. I don't like the odds of us against six armed men, who have a trunk full of back up weapons. My eyes fall on the lone street lamp that's illuminating the scene before me, and an idea starts to form.
I take one of the Batarangs Bruce gave me, and line up the light bulb shining above the men. I exhale, say a small prayer, and throw.
Miraculously, it hits its target. The light shatters, plunging the thugs into darkness. That should make it harder to aim at any would be heroes.

Bruce makes the most of their panic and leaps down, taking one man out with his landing. I move towards the mouth of the alley, ready to jump in should Bruce need me.
I watch his movements, filled with a lethal grace, as he methodically takes down another thug, and another. He's fighting two at once, when I notice Jack Renner making a getaway across the parking lot. I take off at a sprint, running past Bruce and the other men, all too busy fighting each other to notice me.

I close the gap between me and Renner, until I'm right behind him. I kick out and ankle tap him, sending him sprawling across the concrete. Dirty trick, but it works.
He jumps up, snarling at me.

"Who the hell are you supposed to be?" He demands. I don't reply, answering him with a solid kick to the stomach instead. He stumbles back, winded, and I follow the attack with a succession of rapid punches to his jaw, during which he only lands a few hits on me. He's dazed, so I take advantage of his state by sending a flying kick to his head. This puts him down, barely conscious. I grab the handcuffs Bruce supplied me from my belt and cuffed one of his hands to a pipe attached to the building beside us. I feel ecstatic. My first bad guy! Bruce is standing behind me, already having taken care of the other two thugs, and if I didn't know better, I'd say he looks proud.

After a quick phone call to the police, alerting them to the location of several wanted criminals, we take off. Once we're safely in the Bat Mobile, I let out a whoop of glee.

"Did you see me? Tell me you saw!" I exclaimed.

"I did." He replies, and I can see the smile under his cowl. "You did well. That lip will be sore when the adrenaline wears off though." He warns, and I bring a hand up to my mouth. I hadn't even noticed, but I feel the blood there now. I shrug.

"Worth it." I say, still smiling. "I notice you don't look any worse for wear."

"Experience." Is all he says. I'm practically vibrating with elation the whole ride back, until we pull up back at Wayne Manor. Alfred is waiting, with his usual controlled expression.

"Welcome back Mr Wayne, Miss Mitchell. I trust all went well?"

"It went awesome!" I exclaim before Bruce can answer. "Bruce is a bad ass, and I am a bad ass in training. Look out Gotham's underworld, Belle Mitchell is coming for you." I throw some punches around for emphasis. Alfred raises his eyebrow but doesn't comment. Bruce smiles, and now he's removed his cowl, I can see the way his eyes crinkle up, and my stomach does a weird flip.
"I'm hungry." I announce. That's probably what's wrong with my stomach. "Kicking ass burns calories. Who wants pancakes?" I offer.

"In a minute," Bruce says. "First, you have to take care of your lip, and any other injuries."

I throw up a mock salute. "Yes sir." I head over to the locker area, and change back into my comfortable shorts and tee shirt I had been wearing earlier. When I reach the first aid station, Bruce is already there waiting, back in his ordinary black trousers and button up shirt.

"Are you playing nurse for me?" I ask, one eye brown cocked, grinning at him.

"Something like that." He quips, returning my cheeky look with one of his own. I move to the sink, and tidy up my split lip, wiping away the now dried blood. Bruce stands by, watching carefully.

"Anything else hurt?" He asks.

"I have a feeling I'm going to have an impressive black eye tomorrow." I admit. I could already feel the bruising starting to form. Bruce steps forward, suddenly in my personal space, and takes my face in his hands.
He's going to kiss me, I think to myself.

Suddenly he steps back, looking unaffected. "Doesn't feel broken." He says. "Ice it tonight, it shouldn't be as bad." I nod, not knowing what else to say. "Now, was there an offer of pancakes?" He asks, smiling slightly. I watch him walk away, through the door leading back into the manor.
I can't believe I thought he was going to kiss me. I'm such a weirdo.
I shake off the moment and follow him into the house, detouring by my room on the way to the kitchen. I grab my phone and check it, and stop in my tracks. One missed call. I know that number by heart. I hurry over to the stairs, and can hear Bruce talking to Alfred in the kitchen, so I go back to my room and shut the door behind me. I hit redial and wait, listening to his phone ring. I'm just about to give up when he answers.

"Belle?"

"Hi." I squeak. I clear my throat and try again. "Hi. You called?"

"Yes. Just checking if you were still here or if you'd gone home." He said, no warmth in his voice.

"Still here Edward. Are you still being an ass?" I ask, my anger at him returning.

"I'm not dignifying that with a response." He scoffs.

"That was a response." It's juvenile, and I can practically hear him roll his eyes.

Was there something else you wanted?" I ask. I've run out of patience with this conversation. I don't want to fight, but how can I not when he thinks the answer to his problems is to kill Batman?

"No." He pauses. "Be careful."

"I'm touched that you still care." I retort.

"Don't be ridiculous, Belle." He snaps, sounding exasperated. "Of course I do."

"Then are you going to stop this stupid plan of yours?" I ask, almost hopeful.

"Speaking of ridiculous." He mutters. "Put aside your adoration of the man and you'll see I'm right." I can hear the overconfidence in his voice.

"You're not stupid Edward. You know you can't get to us." I say, and realise my mistake immediately.

"Us? Belle, where are you?" Crap.

"I'm sorry." I say, and hang up. I pull the battery and sim card out of my phone, effectively cutting off any way Riddler can track the signal. No doubt Bruce has some protection against that around the Manor anyway, but just to be safe, I dump it all in the trash. I'll use some of the money Bruce lent me to get a new one tomorrow.

I hurry downstairs to the kitchen and breeze in, trying to look like nothing happened.
"Hope you saved some for me." I say, dropping into the chair beside Bruce ungracefully.

"For the bad ass in training? Of course." Bruce grins, passing me a plate stacked high with pancakes.

"Oh man, Alfred, you are my new hero. He's been demoted to number two." I say, nodding at Bruce, who puts on an expression of mock hurt. Alfred looks like he's thinking of smiling.

I eat my fill, and lean back in my chair, sated. Now full of pancakes and not running on adrenaline, my tiredness hits me full force. I yawn, and feel my lip split again.
"Damn" I mutter, reaching for a napkin, but Bruce beats me too it. He leans in and gently presses the cloth to my lip. He dabs gently, removing the slowly leaking blood.

"So," He says conversationally, "Did you call him, or did he call you?" Damn.

"He called me." I say awkwardly around the cloth, opting for honesty. "Well, I missed the call, but I called him back. How did you know? And don't say 'because I'm Batman.'" I roll my eyes. He smiles in a way that lets me know that was exactly what he was going to say.

"Want to talk about it?"

"You're asking me about my relationship troubles with one of your enemies?" I ask doubtfully. "You want to braid my hair next?" He doesn't reply, but puts the cloth down now that the bleeding has stopped. I sigh loudly. "He's still set on this crazy idea of killing you. He now knows I'm with Batman, because I don't think before I talk. And he's still generally an ass." I shrug, as if it's no big deal. As if it's not causing my stomach to twist uncomfortably every time I think of Riddler.

"You know who he is." Bruce says simply. He puts his hand on mine, and my stomach does a turn. (Probably too many pancakes.) "Don't be fooled into thinking you can change him." He gets up and pushes in his chair. "I'll let you sleep through training in the morning. I think you've done enough tonight."

He leaves me alone in the kitchen. I sit there, head spinning.
He didn't say anything incredibly profound, but it got to me just the same. Do I want to change Riddler? Maybe a little. Just curb a few of those homicidal tendencies. But is that asking too much? I go to bed, head full of doubts and questions, and that weird feeling in my stomach every time I think of Bruce's hand on mine.

A/N:
Sorry it's been so long, but here's the new chapter! Shout out to all my lovely reviewers, you guys make my heart feel all warm and fuzzy. For real, you guys rock.
Let me know what you thought!