Kudos if you catch the Princess Bride quote in this one. This time, I included translations within the story so you don't have to scroll back and forth. Enjoy!

Using the Batmobile's GPS, Batman saw that the daredevil side show was located in the midst of four churches, arranged around it in a T-shape. A cross, of course. Dick must have been right about the savior and light clue. He parked on a little-used road under an overpass and hurried along back alleys toward his destination. Not for the first time, he cursed the necessity to come out in the daylight.

As he ran, a few bystanders spotted him, but he didn't so much as spare them a glance. Once he knew he was just yards away from the side show, he leaped up to pull down a fire escape and quickly followed it to the top of the building.

The roof was only three stories high, but from there he could see the round cage where a motorcyclist was performing a death defying act. A juggler nearby was impressing spectators with his hair-raising sword juggling. There were a few concession stands and tents for shade, and behind them all, two parked trucks and trailers.

It was 11:35. Batman unfurled his wings and activated the electric current that returned the memory fabric to its proper shape. Then he glided off the roof, over the concession stands and toward the trailers. As he passed overhead, he heard some indiscreet exclamations and "What was that?!" from a few customers.

He landed as gently as he could, but there was no way the trailer's occupants wouldn't have heard him. He let the wings go limp again and moved to the side of the trailer, just as the door opened. The face that looked wonderingly up at him received a gauntleted fist and fell backward.

Batman could hear voices coming from inside now. He dropped down beside the open door and waited. Someone came into the doorway and saw the stunned man on the ground.

"What the heck happened to you?"

Batman slammed the door on the unsuspecting man, who screamed in a very unmanly fashion and fell back into the trailer.

That scream would attract attention. Batman sped to the back of the trailer and peeked in a window. The shades were drawn, but there was enough clear space in the corner of the window that he could catch a glimpse of the interior. Someone was going to the fallen man by the doorway. There didn't seem to be anyone else inside.

The next moment, Batman was carefully looking out around the back of the trailer. He ducked back when someone approached from the second trailer. Someone in a green suit.

"What are you idiots doing over here?!" asked a voice Bruce remembered from the flea market's magic show.

"It ain't my fault," the first trailer's remaining occupant whined. "Somebody slugged out Harry an' Chester..."

Batman didn't wait to hear more. He sprinted from one trailer to the other and looked in another window. Inside were an ordinary-looking man, a man clearly in carnival garb, and a veiled girl who sat on the floor, swaying back and forth. A crystal ball was perched in a stand between the customer and the performers. Batman activated the listening device hidden in his mask.

"Uh, is he coming back?" the customer asked.

The henchman chuckled awkwardly. "Why, sure. You just never know what's gonna happen around here... I'm sure it's just a little problem with the knife throwing act. He'll be back."

Batman moved down to the next window and pried it open. The noise from the motorcycle cage covered the creaking of the little-used window. He had to be quick, but he took the time to transfer his weight gradually until he could swing inside without immediately alerting everyone in the trailer.

"I sure hope this works. I've seen phony fortune tellers before..."

"I assure you, sir, this girl is a genuine medium. Very strong. Even all that commotion hasn't pulled her out of her mystic trance."

Batman glided through the doorway with uncanny grace. "Your fortune's about to change."

The stooge uttered a strangled yelp and gawked in fear. The customer turned around and exclaimed, "Y-you're... the bat man, aren't you?"

"Get out."

Both men started to rise. Batman closed the distance between them in two steps and knocked the henchman backward. "Not you."

"O-OK."

The customer scrambled out of the trailer whimpering, "Side show? Freak show! You're all freaks!"

Batman knelt in front of the swaying girl and lifted her veil. "Princess Ellora, êtes-vous bien? Ellora!" [are you all right?]

The girl blinked slowly. "Un... chauve-souris géante?" she asked dully. [A... giant bat?]

"Je m'appelle Batman. Je suis ici pour vous aider. Croyez-moi." He held out his hand. [I'm called Batman. I am here to help you. Trust me.]

"G-good grief," the henchman muttered. "The giant bat's bilingual..."

Ellora took Batman's hand and he helped her up. She could barely stand, so he scooped her into his arms and headed for the door.

They met the Riddler in the doorway. The lavender-masked man had better reflexes than his followers—Batman's punch barely grazed him, but he still stumbled backward and fell to the ground.

"Stop, you masked menace!" the Riddler shouted angrily. "You're trying to kidnap what I've rightfully stolen! After him, boys!"

But the "boys" were none too eager to follow orders, and Batman had a good head start before anyone gave chase.

"Pardonnez mon impolitesse," Batman told the princess apologetically, trying to find the best position in which to carry her. [Pardon my rudeness.]

"Pas... pas du tout," she answered feebly. [Not... not at all.]

Once around a corner, Batman readied one of his bat-shaped throwing stars. Once their first pursuer came into view, he threw the sharpened metal bat with great dexterity to see it lodge in the man's shoulder. The wounded man yelped and stumbled, causing the Riddler to crash into him from behind.

Batman didn't wait to see the fallout of the Riddler's anger but immediately ducked down another alley and ran as fast as he could with his burden. As he ran, he signaled the Batmobile to home in on his location. It would have to meet him halfway.

Safely in the Batmobile, Batman drove a winding course to another safe parking area and then helped the princess out of the passenger seat.

"Vous sentez-vous mieux?" Batman asked her gently. [Do you feel better?]

"Oui, un peu." [Yes, a little.]

"Alors, je vais vous retournez à l'hôtel." [Then I will return you to the hotel.]

"Merci." [Thank you.]

She could walk now, and he led her through the streets as slowly and carefully as he dared until they were within sight of the rear of Hightower Hotel. This part could be tricky.

"S'il vous plaît permettez-moi de vous porter à nouveau." [Please allow me to carry you again.]

The princess willingly held out her arms to be picked up again.

He asked what room her family was staying in, and when he had located the correct balcony, he stealthily made his way below it. One shot from the grappling gun, the line hooked at his belt, and they were ready to ascend. "Tenez, mademoiselle." [Hold on, miss.]

Ellora tightened her grip around his neck and they rose from the ground to the balcony. It was just a moment of precariousness as he helped her climb over the railing; then he was up beside her, opening the sliding glass door.

He led her to the bed nearest and assisted her onto it. "Reposez-vous, votre altesse." [Rest, your highness.]

She didn't answer but curled up and closed her eyes. Batman slipped back outside and let himself down the way he had come. He'd made it with seven minutes to spare. He might be able to get back and catch the Riddler before he disappeared.

The side show was completely packed up when Batman returned to the area. He had expected the Riddler to be gone, but the whole show? He had to admit, he was impressed. All that remained was a message scrawled in sidewalk chalk.

"It can't see your face, you can't hear its peep, right-way-up is the wrong way to sleep." So said two lines of blue chalk. By the time he got to the end, Batman had the answer. "A bat."

"The name of something vital you lack—remove an 'R' and you'll never get it back." That one wasn't so easy. Batman got out his micro digital camera and took a picture of the sidewalk so he wouldn't forget the riddle.

So, would the answers help him find the Riddler, or were they just taunts? In any case, he couldn't stay around here any longer. Passersby were beginning to stare and point, and it wouldn't be long before someone called the police. He may have rescued the Lorandian princess, but his name wasn't cleared yet. Time to move along... maybe check out Harriet Cooper's neighborhood.

He parked far away and left the bat suit behind. As Bruce Wayne, he could walk through the neighborhood without arousing so much attention, but he still didn't care to be recognized. He didn't want Dick to know he had been there. It was nearly one by the time he was able to conceal himself in the bushes at the back of the property and activate his listening device.

Dick and his aunt were talking about school. She said she'd take him shopping for a few things the next day so he would be ready on Wednesday. Bruce realized he hadn't thought of asking Dick if he needed any school supplies. He probably had all those things back at his old house, but he hadn't sent for most of his belongings yet. No doubt he was hoping he wouldn't live at Wayne Manor for long. Bruce wasn't sure why, but he felt a little disappointed at the idea.

"Didn't you even take your backpack to Wayne Manor?" Harriet was asking.

"No... I even left my laptop behind. That was probably a mistake. I just... didn't feel like doing anything."

"I'm surprised Bruce hasn't made sure you have everything you need. He seemed like a responsible young man when I met him."

Silence. Then, "You know he burned down his own house last year, right?"

"I never believed it was due to drunkenness; you know they always exaggerate things in the papers. He is taking care of you, isn't he?"

"Oh, sure. Yeah..."

"Because if you're not happy there... well, I was named your legal guardian in the will, and if you don't want to stay there, you really don't have to. Though I'm not sure you'd be happy cooped up here, either."

"I don't mind that it's small," said Dick. "Wayne Manor is so huge... it's like living in a grand hotel or something. Complete with room service. It doesn't seem like... a family."

Bruce tried not to let Dick's words get to him, but it sounded just the way he had felt about Wayne Manor after his parents died. There was nothing left. No one but Alfred. And Alfred was great, but it wasn't remotely the same. Nothing would ever be the same.

"Well, you've still got family here, don't forget," Harriet said warmly. "And even if you don't live here, you can visit as often as you like."

"Thank you. That does help. Do you want a hand with the dishes?"

"That would be lovely."

"Then maybe you can give that recital for me."

"Oh dear, I'll try. I half hoped you'd forgotten."

They went on, chatting and laughing. Bruce didn't care to hear any more. He put away the directional microphone and slipped away.

It had been quite some time since he'd heard an intimate family discussion with the conversation patterns of people who are familiar with, and careful of each other, but not afraid to tease. It was weird how some things could trigger memories, and weirder how just remembering something could make a person feel like crying, even when the memory wasn't anything specific or particularly happy or sad.

Coming here was a silly idea. Almost as silly as keeping Dick at Wayne Manor, where he clearly didn't want to be.

Oh yeah, bring on the angst! xD Please review. *puppy eyes*