A/N: Things are going to be a little happier for the next two or so chapters. Then I will completely screw up everyone's lives. I really like the ending of this chapter, though. It was fun.

Disclaimer: Crap! I lost the rights again. Where'd they go this time? Oh, right. Can't lose something you never had.

Chapter 4: All's Fair

November 6

5:57 am. Barbara Gordon was woken up by the sound of her daddy leaving again. She ran to the door, her bare feet cold against the tile floor, and caught up with him just as he was about to leave. He spun and caught her as he always did, as she knew he always would. She whispered a quiet "I love you, Daddy," into his ear, and he kissed her cheek gently. He carried her to the couch, where there was carpet to warm her toes. He set her down and knelt in front of her, stroking her red hair affectionately.

"I love you, too," he said, and kissed her forehead before turning to leave.

Young though she was, Barbara Gordon knew her daddy had a dangerous job. She was always sad when he left, but she knew, as all children do, that her father was invincible. And even if he wasn't, the Batman was. Jim didn't know it, but she had seen the Batman more than once when he came to visit. She always stayed out of sight, hidden. She was good at hiding. Daddy said that if the bad-guys ever came for them, she would have to hide. So she learned the best hiding places. She knew where to go when you wanted to hear someone without them hearing you, where to see someone that didn't want to be seen, and where to go if you never wanted to be found.

So she knew that Batman was a friend. She'd heard him telling her daddy what he needed to do to catch the man with the scary mask (she'd listened while he told her mommy about it). She'd seen that he was nice, even if he did wear all black and flew everywhere. Barbara Gordon did something that very few people did. She trusted Batman absolutely, and had no doubt that he was there to help. Even so, there was another thing she said every time she caught her daddy leaving too early in the morning or too late at night. After the door was shut and she heard the car engine start up, she would whisper, soft as the wind, "Be careful, Daddy."

Because for all she trusted Batman, she knew that no one, not even Superman, can be everywhere at once.

1:32 pm. Bruce groaned softly as he stared at the glowing screen. He'd been trying for almost a week to find the origin of the two joker cards in his possession. As much as he hated the thought of it, the Joker would need to commit another crime before he could be tracked down. He pushed back from the desk and stood, stretching his legs. He felt weak from missing so many days as Batman. He needed to move, to run. So he went back into the main house, taking care to avoid Alfred, and changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants. He started with a slow jog, to get his breathing regular, but quickly increased the pace. Soon he was running flat-out, his breath even and not at all labored. It felt so good to be active.

He let his mind wander as his feet took the well-known path along the road. He thought about Rachel, and how much he had loved her, for years. But then he went over what had happened in the past year. After Ra' al Ghul's attack, they had drifted apart. She had said that she couldn't be with him, and he knew why. He'd held out hope that maybe, just maybe, it could work, but it didn't. And, despite the pain, his heart had let go. He had stopped loving her long before she died, but he hadn't realized it until this moment. The discovery was exhilarating as it was sad, but it was liberating, too. The Rachel Dawes that he had loved was dead, just as the Bruce Wayne that she had loved was. They had become different people, and they had gone their separate ways.

His thoughts turned to the funeral, and the intriguing girl he'd met. She was definitely unusual, and almost certainly too young for him. He knew that she knew who he was, but he had absolutely no idea… then he remembered what she'd mentioned, about her father being a medical examiner for Rachel. He slowed his pace as a car approached, and made a show of breathing heavily. As the car disappeared around a corner, he spun around and made record time back to the mansion. Alfred was by the door when he approached, and handed him a towel. He looked the young Wayne up and down before speaking.

"Might I suggest a shower, sir, before you do anything?"

"Not now, Alfred," Bruce replied, and ran to the piano in the southeast wing.

Half an hour later, he was in the shower, mulling over what he'd found out. He'd confirmed that she was definitely too young for him, but he bypassed that little piece of information and went on to the rest. She had an older brother, hospitalized just over a year ago for severe burns. Her parents were both doctors at Gotham Memorial, where his own father had worked. She'd been formally trained, along with her brother, in the art of eskrima for most of her life. The style used rattan sticks and knives as primary weapons, and it explained why she was so thin. She was due for early graduation in the next month. And her name was Leah.

It's a nice name, he thought, as he turned off the water and stepped out.

4:20 pm. "You're joking," Alex said. He stared at his sister incredulously. She blushed slightly and shook her head.

"He just looked so sad, what else could I do?" she pleaded.

"I'm still wondering why he started talking to you in the first place."

"I think he thought that I started the conversation," she ran a hand through her hair, "Should I have ignored him?"

"Well… no," he continued, "You didn't tell him your name, did you?"

She gave him a glare that would have curdled milk, "I'm not a complete idiot, Alex," she said, "I barely said anything."

"Good," he crossed his arms and met her eyes evenly, "I just hope you never meet him again."

"Why? He seemed nice enough."

"You know his reputation."

"Oh please, like he'd be interested in me," she gestured to her glasses and oversized sweatshirt, "Besides, I'm not even legal," he winced, "I doubt that he's that stupid, even if you are."

"Oh, you'd be surprised how stupid men can …" he began, but she cut him off abruptly.

"I have to go to class," her voice was dangerously quiet. He'd heard her speak that softly before, to a guy in their eskrima class who'd made a snide comment about her. The guy had ended up with two black eyes and a bruised rib. And he'd been wearing padding. Alex let her leave. He didn't want to be there for the explosion.

5:02 pm. Bruce watched the class in silent awe. He'd built muscle and speed over the first six years of his absence, and had honed them in the last. But Leah, she had been training for almost her whole life. Twelve years of this had shaped her into something that Bruce wasn't. He was strong and fast, but she moved with speed and fluidity that he had yet to match. At the funeral, she'd stood stiffly in her dress, her hair in a severe bun. Here, she seemed graceful and smooth, her long braid whipping around with the motion of the rest of her body. It seemed a dance, violent and beautiful, even though he knew that fighting was not, in any way, a dance. It had been one of the lessons drilled into him up on the mountain.

He stood outside the small school, dressed like someone who had never even seen a thousand dollars in his life, let alone a billion. No one recognized him, and he liked it that way. He was a ways back from the wide windows, but he could still see a few things. The glasses had been replaced by contacts, but she closed her eyes a lot of the time when she was using the punching bags in the back. He guessed that she wanted to be ready for anything, which was smart in this city.

He watched the class until it ended. Two hours of nonstop movement, culminating in a simple bow from the main practice floor. Leah disappeared into the bathroom as the other students left, to take out her contacts, he guessed. Sure enough, when she reemerged, her glasses were back on, slipping slightly on her sweaty nose. She put on some shoes and slung her bag over her shoulder. She waved to the head instructor as she walked out, smiling.

The sky had darkened considerably, and Bruce wondered where her ride was. He realized that she might not have one, so he pulled his hood up and followed her down the street. No one walked around Gotham alone at night. He would make sure that she wouldn't, either. He had been following her for about fifteen minutes when she rounded a corner. He quickened his pace, worried that someone would be waiting for her. He turned into the alleyway on full alert, but all he could see was darkness. He didn't notice the butt of one of her practice sticks heading towards his temple until it was too late. The soft ground rose to meet him and he heard steps pounding away as the world faded into oblivion.

I don't usually beg, but please review this. I really like this chapter, and I want to make sure that I'm not the only one (or possibly confirm my suspicions that I'm completely insane). Come one, press the button, you know you want too. It's all shiny and blue!