The apartment is a tiny, one room affair, more like a hotel room than an actual living space. But it's cheap, and the landlord asks no questions so long as the rent comes on time.

It's all mine.

Something about saying that makes me ridiculously happy, even with all the trouble I had to go through to make sure the owners remember I live there. There're documents in their office and notes on their fridge; I even have an automatic greeting sent from my new email address every three days, just to be safe. And though I loathe the idea of leaving a paper trail, it's necessary if I want to put down roots.

The place is empty and rancid, typical for the Narrows, but there's a skip in my step as I pull on some gloves and take out the bleach.

Cleaning has never been so satisfying.


Sionis Steel Mill is a hive of activity; the mass of production and mad scramble for contracts the only thing keeping it afloat. Mr. Sionis, the lovely benefactor of this establishment, can be heard all the way down in the loading bay, his furious yells throwing an ominous silence over the cowering workers.

Everyone knows what happened Christmas Eve; how that freak, The Joker, took down The Black Mask. How hard he fell. The only thing keeping Sionis from folding is the damage done to the city and the fact that his mill is the closest and most convenient supplier. And with New Years already past and gone, repairs on the Gotham Pioneers Bridge need to be completed ASAP.

Mill workers have long hours with few breaks and little pay. It's dark and grimy and far from a safe environment. It's also a great place to find work, shady or otherwise.

I am a backroom stocker, unloading supplies off the trucks and wielding my pallet jack like a pro. I'm paid by the hour and only for the days I show up. I can be easily replaced, so I work like a mad woman. I want them to feel it when I'm gone.

I'm careful to avoid any contact with Black Mask, to the point where I go out of my way not to be in sight whenever he makes his appearances. The man's trigger happy, shooting anyone who's not fast enough to get out of his way, even the temps, who aren't part of his little fan boy club.

Also? I'd prefer if he didn't notice a woman in his ranks.

The guys on the floor are not so bad. They're too busy trying to make a living to make an issue. Mr. Sionis's goons on the other hand? Chauvinistic pigs, the lot of them. I've seen Black Masks' assistant, and secretary she is not. So I wear oversized clothes, triple my sports bra and make sure my face in covered with sweat and soot like the rest of us dirty heathens. At best, I look like a fresh young boy. At worst, a very unattractive woman. The work is hard and, quite frankly, horrible.

But the things one hears…

"They say the Bat took out an army of men! No joke! Swooped outta the dark like a livin' shadow!"

"Penguin looked happy. I hear he's raking in the dough."

"What about Zeus? He's got a 'lightning rod'. Hehe."

"Almost got nailed the other day. That Gordon's getting cocky."

"The Joker did what?!"

"Shut up, man! You wanna die?!"

It's almost funny how much people talk when they think no one is listening.