Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations I put all my poor victims in. Everything else belongs to somebody else and that must be how it remains for obvious reasons.

Let Us Help You

He'd formulated, actually written down, and discarded any number of ways to lay out the information he'd gathered and the arguments he'd come up with to convince Wayne that he hadn't been compromised during his captivity and that he was still trustworthy. At the moment Blake couldn't remember so much as a sentence as he stared into his hero's eyes, the older man staring right back at him with a fierce, burning gaze that seemed to see right through him.

"I'm listening."

It took a moment for the two words to register and make sense, but then they did and Blake's ears flushed pink as he forced his head back into the game, jerking his head in the direction of the cat burglar watching them with narrowed, interested eyes.

"She's on our side for the moment. I'm asking for help this time." Lips curving into wry amusement Wayne gave Blake a look that said he understood his skepticism, but they were pretty much up shit's creek without a paddle at this point, and their options were beyond limited.

He wanted to argue, but Wayne was right. So he got straight to the point. "I know who has the remote. Al Ghul's daughter has it."

"Who the hell is that?" Kyle wanted to know.

"Daughter? But he said…he led me to believe he didn't have a child."

"Oh crap." Heart sinking Blake's shoulders slumped. "Fuck, I was counting on you knowing what she would look like since you're former League. I figured…I thought with her wanting revenge and all she wouldn't have changed her appearance too much because she would want to look like herself when she killed you. I mean she'd want to be the one, right? Destroying the city would only be part of it. She'd need to see you suffer with her own eyes and…FUCK!"

Kyle crossed her arms in front of her, picking up the conversational slack while Wayne started pacing back and forth in obvious agitation. "I heard a whisper or two that there was a high ranking woman partially in charge of things, but I could never get any solid info on her. What do you know?"

Swiping a hand through his hair in agitation Blake tried to think of something more than the little he had, having no luck. All he knew was that she was probably in her twenties or thirties, was batshit crazy, and had really, really crappy taste in perfume.

"Perfume?"

He worked up a rueful smile. "I hate 'Rosa'."

Both felt rather than saw Wayne stop and go very still in every way possible, Blake and Kyle both giving him their full attention then, sensing that a key had just been turned.

"You're saying that she wears 'Rosa'? The designer perfume?"

"Yeah. Why? That means something?"

Another pause, and then Wayne spoke in a voice as cold and hard as the Artic itself. "It does. And it explains how they were able to access information about my company and the fusion reactor that should have been classified and too heavily shielded for them to access without clearance given the measures Fox took to protect them. It also goes a long way towards explaining her behavior towards me, particularly at our last meeting. Al Ghul's daughter…of course she is."

"A name would be nice, Wayne."

"Miranda. Miranda Tate."

Eyes widening Blake couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before. "That's why she joined the resistance, made sure she was at meetings and..." Blake trailed off for a moment as the full weight of this realization hit. "She had so much knowledge about the bomb and had good ideas about how to avoid detection while we–it was all a setup. She wanted to know what we would do before we did it. Probably got off on it too, hanging around us, knowing how desperate we were for that remote while pretending to care and grieve with us. The fucking bitch probably had it on her the whole time!"

Needing to hit something really badly Blake marched over to the side of the road and swearing a blue streak called Miranda pretty much every foul thing he could think of while kicking the road siding since that was all he had at the moment aside from the still unconscious asseholes Kyle had beaten the crap out of. And in the fury he was in he was likely to kick them to death so they were out even though he was liable to break some toes doing what he was doing.

"Stop."

Responding more to the hand Wayne had put on his shoulder than the order itself Blake forced himself to go still, continuing to stare out towards his battered and nearly broken city as hate continued to flow through his blood like boiling hot lava. He could all but taste Miranda Tate's blood and if she were standing right in front of him he'd snap her neck like a twig. Or worse. Much worse.

"We need to find out where she and Lucius Fox are. Then we need to get that remote away from her and figure out -"

"Crane has them. Or had then, since Fox might be dead at this point. She'll be alive though, if you're right and she's the one you're looking for." The finger Kyle pointed in Wayne's direction was full of warning. "I'm not helping you with her. Fox yes, but after that I'm out of here."

Inclining his head in understanding Wayne kept his hand on Blake's shoulder as he lapsed into thoughtful silence before asking if she would be willing to use her very skilled hands to slip a tracker onto Miranda's person if the opportunity presented itself when they retrieved Fox.

A slow, very feline response was her answer.

)

It was nearly dinnertime, Blake ignoring the grumblings of his stomach since the granola bar he'd consumed early had not only not put a dent in his hunger, but had sucked period. He hated the damn things, but he'd given the majority of the food Bane had given him away to those who hadn't had a decent meal in months, and the granola was easy to carry around with him. It also didn't help that he was freezing his ass off, but whenever that got to be too much for him he just remembered how Tate had been using Bane and making a fool out of the cops who'd worked alongside her and his blood got more than hot enough to shake off the chill for a little bit.

Beside him Gordon was even quieter, having ordered radio silence unless absolutely necessary as the seven man team they'd hastily thrown together waited for Tate to leave Crane's court. The commissioner had the device connected to the tracker Kyle had slipped onto their target's person, and thus far she had moved around very little. But she couldn't be planning to just stick around the hall until whatever the next stage of her plan happened. That made no sense. Of course Gordon had also thought his theory that Tate was the real mastermind behind Gotham's occupation was ridiculous and a product of his traumatized mind at first too. Or the commissioner had up until Blake had given him one of Batman's boomerang thingies and a letter from the man himself. He didn't know what it had said, but Gordon had stopped arguing with him and now here they were.

"She's moving again."

Immediately shifting his attention Blake leaned in close, lowering his gaze to the screen Gordon tilted in his direction. As they watched she moved further and further…

"She's leaving."

"She is." With a downright feral look on his face, the commissioner had not taken the news of Tate's betrayal well, Gordon used his earpiece to alert the others while he and Blake took off running out of the alleyway they'd been hiding in to get closer to the exit they know knew Tate was likely heading for. They'd planned for this possible exit, there were two men watching that exit, but this was personal.

Even if they weren't the ones taking the bitch down, they were damn well going to see it.

Eyes flicking back and forth from the screen to the scenery in front of them, the two stopped at the corner and drawing their weapons waited for their prey to come into view. They didn't have to wait long, Miranda Tate stepping out of the building unescorted moments later, the woman looking around and-running.

Something had given them away.

Refusing to lose her, to lose this chance, Blake blocked out the fact that she was precious to Bane and aiming his gun started shooting at her, aiming for her legs because…because he couldn't shoot to kill unless he had to. But she'd been trained for this, moving in an unpredictable pattern to avoid the shots though a couple of his bullets winged her leg and hip as he ran after her, one of the darts from the tranq gun being carried by one of the other men hitting her from above though she yanked it out right away without breaking stride.

It was obvious she knew the streets they were running through, but so did he and Blake knew in his gut that if he just stayed on her, he could catch her. Already she was starting to slow down ever so slightly, the dart's contents and the minor wounds starting to kick in a little, and he was in damn good shape at the moment with one hell of a motivation to catch her.

They didn't speak to each other, but then this wasn't a cop running after a criminal. Not today. They were two opposing predators fighting for their territory, and air was too valuable to waste with trash talk or threats.

When she went running through an empty doorway, The five storey office building's main door in broken pieces under the snow, Blake consider for a moment that he was following her into some sort of trap but he couldn't let that stop him, not now. He had to risk it as he barged in after her.

Following the sounds of the slammed door Blake jerked it open and headed up the metal staircase, his ears picking up the occasional sound of stumbling feet stepping wrong on the steps above him though she kept going and Blake had to follow, gaining on her with every floor they passed. That she was headed for the roof made no sense, but where she went he was prepared to follow.

She left the door open for him this time, which had him tensed and ready with his gun as he burst out the doorway and started to make-son of a bitch!

The kick landed hard and true, the gun spurting out of his hand as he went flying backward and rolling on the snow and ice covered concrete. With the wind knocked out of him courtesy of her kick and his mad dashing Blake watched her come out of the shadows like the darkest of fallen angels, hands full.

"What's the matter, Blake? Too kind and gentle to fight back? I found the tracker while I was running, it won't help you now."

Well shit, that wasn't good.

Dodging out of the way of the large, club like hunk of wood she now aimed for his head, Blake found himself only just able to get back onto his feet before the next swing. Forced onto the defensive as he dodged her makeshift club, Blake did his best to get a couple kicks in without a lot of luck since Bane had obviously spent way more time training her than him. He was going to get his ass handed to him by the bitch if he didn't figure something out first.

In desperation he tried to take the damn club from her, managing after several painful blows to grab one side and then, after using a move Bane had taught him, managing to grab the other end so that they could fight for control of it, though again she quickly got control of it again and sent him flying to the ground once again. And while her face was cloaked in the winter darkness…Blake could feel the bloodlust radiating off of her.

"Tell me something, Blake." Her voice was a purr, the rich girl guise dropped now and the accent similar to Bane as she slowly slinked closer to him. "Were you in love with him, Detective? Did you honestly think he'd want you, when he had someone like me?"

"Call me crazy, but I'm pretty sure that Bane has too much class to sleep with a whore that would fuck around with the man she blames for her father's death." Wayne hadn't said as much, but he'd gotten that vibe earlier. Judging by her furious scream, he'd been right.

She came at him like a fury now, tossing the club at him before moving in for the kill with blows that probably would have ended with his demise but for the drug in her system, fury clouding her judgement and aim. But it took all he had to concentrate on avoiding her kill shots, and that was before she suddenly revealed that she'd had a knife on her the whole time and had decided to bring it play.

If not for the vest he'd worn under his coat she'd have cut him to ribbons then, Blake receiving relatively minor cuts all over his less protected skin while she screamed at him that he'd rue the day he'd dare to challenge Talia al Ghul and tried to steal Bane from her.

It was his sense of impeding doom that had him tackling her, the two of the rolling around on the snow covered concrete like idiots right up until she managed to shove him off, the force behind the move pushing her backward on her side. And as they'd both been too focused on the other to pay attention to anything else, they were both unaware that they had gotten dangerously close to the edge until it was too late. The structural damage the building had suffered earlier did the rest then, buckling just enough that she went rolling off the edge.

Diving forward out of instinct Blake locked his fingers around her lower arm just in time, the detective digging his fingers into her flesh with all the strength he had as his other hand braced against the side for support. And staring down at her the darkness that lived inside him howled for her death, to avenge those that had died and might still die because of her. But the part that loved Bane in spite of himself couldn't let her go. Not when Bane loved her so much. He had to try and save her.

"Give me your other hand!"

"You think I'll let you put me in a prison again?" Her words now noticeably slurred, Talia glared at him with pure hate. "Never again. And Bane will destroy you and your precious city in my name."

And so saying Talia used her last bit of strength to stab out with her knife, Blake letting her go to avoid being stabbed. So down she went, Blake watching her fall with complete detachment now as he saw her drop the knife and shove her hand into her pant pocket. Her roar of fury reached his ears a heartbeat before the sound of her body hitting pavement replaced it, the sudden silence oddly fitting.

With a cool numbness Blake took a seat on the concrete and sliding a hand under his coat and the armored vest he was wearing ripped a part of his shirt off to use as a temporary bandage for the worst cut high on his right arm. And when that was done Blake got to his feet and walked a couple meters away to retrieve the remote he'd dropped there during that last struggle for control before the fall.

It hadn't been easy, but he'd been born in one of Gotham's worst neighborhoods. Learning to pick a pocket was something kids tended to learn early there as a rite of passage. He hadn't lost his touch it seemed.

)

Vaguely aware of the multiple cuts and possible internal injuries, Blake prayed he wouldn't pass out from blood loss before he found the others as he left the roof. Luck was with him though, a member of the team meeting him partway down the stairwell. They paused for some more quick First Aid and then together headed out onto the street where three other members of the group, including Gordon, were standing around whatever was left of Talia al Ghul's body. And since he didn't want to see what was left of her, he'd have enough nightmares to last a lifetime thanks to her anyway, Blake called for them to come to him, handing the remote over to Gordon as soon as the commissioner was within arm's reach.

Taking it from him Gordon sighed with relief and then really seeing him in the streetlight's glow asked for a report.

Nodding, Blake relayed everything that had happened since they'd lost contact with each other, keeping it as brief and to the point as possible.

Gordon listened and then stated that Blake had done well. Now they just needed to figure out how to get the damn bomb and then all this would end. They needed to get into contact with Batman and go from there.

"Or I could make this easier on all of us."

The other four jumped and whirled around to track the voice, Blake too woozy and beaten up to react. And besides, he recognized the voice even before Barsad came out of the shadows he seemed to live in, visibly unarmed though Blake figured that that was deceiving. Not that Barsad probably needed any weapons aside from his body to kill them all here and now without sustaining any real injury.

But he did step in front of Gordon, the others copying his move with their guns drawn and ready.

"Talia is dead." Barsad informed him bluntly, ignoring the others as his gaze remained on Blake. "Therefore the League of Shadows' reason for being here is dead. Bane will not seek your city's destruction…or at least he won't if given something of equal value. Or someone in this case."

"You think he'll trade the bomb for me?"

"I believe it's worth risking our lives to attempt. I'll take proof of her death and you to him. The rest will be up to you."

Gordon's hand latched into Blake's shoulder. "He's not going anywhere with you."

A rueful smile crossing his lips, Blake shook his head and then turned it as much as he was able to given the older man's grip.

"Respectfully, Sir, that's not your call to make."