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We finished this a lot quicker than normal... it's actually pretty weird....

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Disclaimer: We don't own batman. We do however own a less popular, and less known, super hero. FAT-MAN! He fights crime with his love handles of Justice! Even the blindest of men are completely repulsed by him!

She had no idea what to do now. Sitting on the street curb, with Wayne tower just down the street, Emily was honestly at a loss with what to do with herself. As far as she knew, which she was pretty sure she did, she didn't exist in this world. Which meant there would be no record of her anywhere, meaning no social security number, no high school, or college, transcripts, and that would make it hard to do pretty much anything. God was she screwed. Normally her dreams would throw her a freaking bone, and make her rich. Ah well. Real life sucked, why shouldn't fake life suck too?

She stood up and looked around, as it turned out Henry did have money. Two dollars, and a dime, which was enough to buy a cup of coffee, provided it wasn't too good, but all she wanted was caffeine anyway so the quality didn't really matter.

They had said goodbye pretty quickly, he had realised how dirty he was and had only gone for a handshake. But she had hugged him anyway. He left then, after giving her money, which she had tried to refuse.

She made it halfway across the road, before she stepped on a rock. A sudden jolt of pain went up her leg, causing it to cramp and she fell over. The sound of a screeching car reached her ears and she opened her eyes to see a wheel only two inches in front of her. Wonderful. Now she had almost died, this dream was turning out to be quite memorable already.

She rolled out from under the front of the car, while a man got out to make sure he hadn't killed her. Well that was thoughtful at least. She shook her head, a dopey smile on her face, and stood up only to come face to face with the owner of the car. She inhaled deeply. No way.

"Are you alright Miss? You," he paused and took in her appearance, raising an eyebrow in question. "You weren't hit were you?"

Emily couldn't breathe, she kept trying but her brain wouldn't process properly. Alfred Pennyworth had almost run her over. This was the single greatest moment of her entire life, even if it was only a dream. On some level, she realised that was probably really sad.

--

The police station left something to be desired. It wasn't particularly large, which surprised her given the amount of crime that actually took place in Gotham, and it smelt kind of like pee.

And now she was stuck in some random office, which belonged to someone who wasn't even in the movies. She let out a sigh, looking up as a cop entered with two cups of, what she hoped, was coffee. He looked pretty young, probably only just out of training, but he had a big smile on his face. And coffee.

Taking a seat behind the desk he smiled at her, and handed her one of the cups, before pulling out some files and a pen.

"Right. So... the officer out the front says you don't remember your name?"

Emily nodded, figuring fake amnesia was probably going to be the best course of action. Even if it did sound completely ridiculous. Then again, given the situation, namely her dream royally screwing her over, she didn't exactly have many options.

Unfortunately quick thinking was not a talent that Emily possessed, and had therefore led her into her current predicament. After almost being run over, she had managed to tell Alfred, she still couldn't get her head around that bomb, that she had no idea who she was. Or how she had got there. So, being a concerned citizen, he had taken her straight to the police station, where she then had to lie to the officer at the front desk. After establishing that she "had no memories" they had taken pity on her, and kept her while saying Alfred could go. So far things had not gone as planned.

"OK well, I'm not exactly sure where to go from here."

Well that was reassuring.

"But I'm going to do my best to help you." He offered her a small smile, and began writing something down. A few minutes passed in silence, in which background Cop number 4, she had named him this as he still had yet to tell her what his name actually was, continued writing, and Emily contently sipped her coffee. It was good.

"OK well first thing's first. Do you have anyone we can contact to let them know you are here?"

He had to be joking right? A look passed across Emily's face, which seemed to convey her current feelings, and he paled, almost as if suddenly remembering why she was in his office in the first place.

"My bad."

She almost started laughing at him, he did look pretty guilty.

"OK. Sorry. Well. Um. Yes. Right, so, we're going to find somewhere for you to stay I think... Do you have any idea how old you are? It would make things a lot easier for us."

Emily thought about it for a moment, how far was she willing to go with this whole amnesia bit?

"I'm twenty. I think."

Background cop number 4 practically beamed at her.

"Wonderful! See you do remember something! OK well since you are over eighteen we don't need to get child services involved,"

Dear god did they really think she was seventeen, or younger? She didn't look that much like a child.

"but we would like to take you to the hospital. Just to make sure you're not hurt or anything."

Emily nodded, this was beginning to sound more and more boring by the second. Plus, knowing her luck, they would figure out she didn't have amnesia within five minutes of entering the hospital. She fought to let out a sigh when he began writing again.

Letting her gaze fall around the room Emily noticed the distinct lack of personality it had. The room held a few items, a desk, two chairs, a plant in the corner of the room, a poster on the wall with an angry looking dog saying something about drugs, and a rubbish bin. The desk itself was cluttered in papers, while the bin was full with empty coffee cups, and what looked like a half eaten bagel. Or at least she hoped it was a half eaten bagel.

"I need to pee."

She almost winced at herself, after all she could have been more tactful.

He looked up for a second, and gave a small nod.

"Sure thing. Down the hall and to the left. Third door on your right." He motioned the directions with the end of the pen, before looking back down at his papers. Emily took this as her cue to leave, stood up and left, closing the door softly behind her.

Walking past a couple of strangers, who were all standing around a water cooler, Emily pulled the shirt she had been given by one of the female officers closer to her body. The woman in question, whom Emily had yet to meet, must have been the size of a tank as the shirt was practically swimming over her frame.

After finally finding the bathroom, having taken seventeen minutes and directions from another officer, Emily quickly walked over to a stall and locked herself inside. Putting the lid down and sitting on it, she pulled her knees up to her chest and held them there. She let out a deep sigh, and closed her eyes, resting her head against the cold wall behind her. It had been one hell of a day.

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