"It seems a little bit too convenient that he happen to give up on me after I escaped..." Rachel paced on the floor of the bullpen like an aggressive tiger. "...people like him don't give up so easily on their obsession."

"Maybe he actually found a better object that's easier to reach?" Ben Smith, the ADA, rolled his eyes when he thought Rachel wouldn't notice. He wasn't exactly happy with Rachel being able to jump straight into the position as DA.

"It might be a way of creating an illusion of safe security." The young detective Jacobs said. She was an afro American woman with high ambitions. She fiddled with the paperwork and hissed as she got a paper-cut from doing so.

Ben Smith leered at Rachel. "So, I just ran his name through the data base of Gotham's citizens. Terence Williams does not exist!"

"He might be from out of town." Detective Jacobs tried to meddle between the furious Ben Smith and Rachel.

"But he kept me in a house, here in Gotham!"

"It could have been a random abandoned house!"

"I know where I was trapped! I climbed out through his roof and jumped across buildings, here in Gotham."

Ben Smith snorted.

Rachel ignored him. "I suggest we put out a search team on that exact location. I want the house under surveillance, now!"

Ben leaned towards her and whispered with an angry voice: "Listen, Miss Dawes, you are new to this group!"

"I'm the DA!"

"Miss Dawes, we work as a team here. I suggest you to blend in and just observe. We know what we're doing. We don't need you to stir up trouble. Unless you want the whole group and therefore the majority of votes against you. You should lay low."

"I hold the position as the DA!"

"One woman or man is equal to one vote. We're a democratic team, titles and positions does not matter."

Rachel felt defeated. The top team included up to 15 people with one vote each, she currently had 14 votes against her. But she decided to play.

"Of course we're democratic, let's vote then! How many agrees with me to search for Terence?"

"And how many agrees with me to continue to stop corruption in Gotham. The real threat against our beloved city!"

"Raise your hand for me." Rachel said with a clear confident tone.

Immediately shot Detective Jacobs' hand up in the air. Followed by no one.

Ben smirked. "Raise your hands for my request."

The rest of the team raised their hands for him.

"Being a DA does not help you unless you have the majority with you!"

Rachel had never felt that a dictatorship could be so interesting.

:::

However, changed plans. Her first case came the second day of her returned career. Rachel had just arrived at the office when she was called to the bullpen.

"Miss Dawes! Miss Dawes, we have a call for you!"

Take it easy, there's no fire! "What line?" Rachel asked and rolled her eyes. She was about to pick up her office phone when the policeman shook his head. "You need to take the phone in the bullpen!"

Rachel's pulse rose.

"Hurry!"

She practically ran after him into the bullpen. The phone in the middle of the bullpen was wired to the police's tracking system, a few technicians were frantically trying to track the call.

"We need at least two minutes more!" The technician said, his forehead was filled with pearls of sweat.

Rachel quickly caught the serious tone in the room and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi." A soft voice answered. "Is it Rachel Dawes I'm speaking to?"

"Yes. To whom do I owe the pleasure?"

"My name's Sarah."

"Hello Sarah, what's the matter?"

"You got to help me, please." Sarah immediately went straight to her matter. "I've been trapped by a maniac, for approximately three days now. Do something, he might be back anytime."

"Do you know the name of your abductor?"

"He calls himself Terence."

Rachel's heart jumped. She sent a spiteful look at Ben Smith. He stared back with a sour face.

"Can you describe Terence?"

"He's tall... very tall. I would guess two meters."

Rachel nodded and mouthed "Like my Terence!"

"He wears plastic clothes and wellingtons!"

Rachel became even more sure that the abductor was Terence.

"His hair is shaved."

Rachel's jaw dropped but caught her composure. "How did you know my name? How did you know how to reach me?"

"He's got your face and name all over the walls in the room he's keeping me in. There are news articles everywhere and photos of you in the ceiling! He even calls me Rachel."

"How did you get the phone you're talking on?"

"He left his jacket in my room after a emotional breakdown. Everything I'm saying is off putting to him. He must have forgotten that his cell was in the pocket. I dialed 911 and explained to them I was trapped, then I asked for you."

"It's alright. I'm on a team that's going to help you. You hear me, Sarah?"

"Yes, I do. Please hurry!"

Her voice drowned in a series of beeping sounds. Then her call disconnected.

Rachel turned to the technician, holding the dead phone. "What happened?"

He wrinkled his nose slightly, a stress symptom. "The battery in her cell ran out. But that's not the problem right now, it's the fact that we can't pin her location!"

"What?"

"She's jumping back and fourth all over Gotham. First she's in the wealthier parts then in the Narrows, then she's heading south and back to north!" He turned the screen so everyone could see. A dot jumped all over the map of Gotham.

"How's that possible?" Ben Smith interrupted.

"I don't know, a virus maybe? We pin the location by cell towers, but this virus seems to activate every possible cell tower in Gotham in a distinctive pattern."

"Get the cell companies on the phone!" Ben barked at the stressed technician. "I want them to do a virus search on their-"

"We don't have to!" Rachel barked back at him. "I know exactly where she is! She described the room exactly as I remembered. She even described Terence."

"We have to do this properly!"

"How long will it take to pin her location by cell towers after the companies done a virus search?"

"It's impossible to tell? Ten minutes up to ten days!"

"We don't have that kind of time, Ben! Who's with me?" Rachel declared.

13 hand were raised into the air. The power of democracy.

:::

The SWAT team broke into the house. Rachel, Jacobs and Ben Smith stood outside the house waiting.

"He sure sounds paranoid, this fella." Ben noted. "How many locks are there on his door? Ten?"

Rachel remained silent and tried to not think about her recent events in this particular house. She had a terrible feeling in her gut when she thought about Sarah, the person being trapped there right now.

"Clear!" The SWAT team erupted from the house. "Empty, no one's there!"

"What?!" Rachel exclaimed. She ran into the house with Ben Smith and Jacobs after her. She located the stairs to the second floor easily from her recent memory and ran into the room she had been trapped in. It was empty. She heard Ben talking on the phone; "What do we know about her? Her name's Sarah, I don't have a surname on her... well she used the metric system, she might be European, however no trace of accent."

"Fucking hell!" Jacobs stared into the room with round eyes. "There's pictures of you everywhere, Dawes! Is this the place where you were trapped?" Her voice went falsetto.

Rachel ignored her. A new idea had popped into her head. What if Sarah had discovered the hatch in the ceiling? "Follow me!"

"What are you doing?" Jacobs asked as Rachel went into the bathroom and into the shower cabin.

"It's a hatch here."

"What?"

"Hush!"

"Don't 'sh me!"

"Let me do my fucking job and stop asking so many questions then!" Rachel knew damn well that Terence already knew about her escape route but hoped Sarah had been able to go the same way as herself. The hatch didn't open as easily it had done before. Rachel pulled harder.

"What exactly are you trying to achieve?"

"This is where I-"

"Dawes, Jacobs, you might want to see this." Ben stuck his head into the bathroom. "We've got a body and it ain't pretty."

"A body?" Rachel asked dumbstruck. "Where?"

"It was hanging under the Wayne subway. But a train came and ran over the rope, it was tied around the rails, and the body fell down... the scene ain't pretty so to speak. The media discovered it before we did. Prepare yourself for a speech." He added.

:::

"What do you got on her?"

"Sarah Johanson, age 25, grew up in both Sweden and the States. I guess that's why she used the metric system. Studied to become a journalist. She's got two sisters. "

"The more you know about a victim, the more personal it gets. She was a person made of flesh and blood. With a family. Friends. Dreams."

Just like Harvey.

:::

"The people of Gotham are scared and demands answers!" The angry journalist woman barked at Rachel as she followed her from the car. "As the DA you're required to answer, it's your responsibility!"

"It's my responsibility to put the responsible of the murder behind bars. Not to ruin an investigation."

The journalist's lipstick was smeared all over her mouth and she had a shabby appearance, the clothes she wore didn't seem to be washed for at least a week. "Come on!" The even more aggressive female journalist demanded. "You know how it works. Give us something to work on! Something! The readers want blood and gruesome details, you should know that."

"Yeah, and people want their free time alone." Rachel grabbed the door handle to her flat.

"Please, I'm going to loose my job!" The journalist tried.

"No comment."

:::

She drew a deep breath of relief when she entered her apartment. Even though the hall was completely pitch dark, she realized she wasn't alone. An unfamiliar jacket on her coat rack told her someone was there. Who? She drew her taser from her pocket.

The hall exploded in lights. Rachel found herself pointing the taser at Bruce.

"Not the first time you're pointing that thing at me." He chuckled.

"We're making a habit out of it." She agreed.

"So, how did you get in here?"

"My spare key." He held up a key.

She snatched it from him. "Not next time!"

"Next time?" He sounded hopeful. "Are you already planning my next break in?" Bruce followed her into her kitchen where she took a glass of water.

"I meant there's not going to be a next time, Bruce." She sighed. "I deal with enough shit on the job." She pulled out a micro dinner from the fridge and threw it into the micro.

Bruce had gone silent behind her.

"Why so silent? You wouldn't stop talking a minute ago?"

"I deal with enough shit on the job." He echoed with an empty voice. Bruce scanned her. I didn't know you spoke like that.

"I'm sorry I sounded harsh, but I was overrun by a crazy journalist just before I got here." Rachel explained. "I'm sorry if I was being rude."

The apology was accepted.

"Do you want some?" She offered the now hot food.

"Nah, just ate."

"Alrighty then." She sang, using the teasing-voice Bruce knew too well. "Only goose liver and oysters are good enough for Mr Wayne." Rachel ran out of the kitchen before he could answer. With a chuckle she turned on the TV.

He seated himself next to her.

"I guess you're only used to fancy dinners with white tablecloths-"

"Stop, Rachel." He cringed.

"-silver cutlery and at least two models at your side! Don't forget an entire Russian Ballet..."

He blushed. "That's actually quite embarrassing since I wanted to impress-"

"Or ruin my date?" She chewed her food and finished her bowl quickly. "I know! You need an orchestra as well to dine properly! Or else you will loose your appetite."

"You've got food on your chin." He pointed out.

This time she blushed.

"Let me." He pulled out a textile handkerchief out of his pocket.

"Don't. It will just ruin the handkerchief." She tried.

"I've got too many anyway. Besides only the best deserves the best." He wiped off the tomato sauce.

That comment made her blush even more.

"I don't know what's more embarrassing, having food in my face or your ridiculous comment?"

He chuckled.

Rachel noted how close he had gotten. He leaned in further. She couldn't help herself but doing the same. Still it felt wrong, kissing someone else so soon after Harvey's death. But he wasn't just someone. Her heart was selfish and so was her brain in this moment. To respond to that kiss was the only thing that seemed important right now. To hell with all the guilty feelings, this night she only wanted to melt into his arms. And it sure was wonderful.

Until she woke up next day, beside him, with a bitter taste in her mouth. A note from her past had interrupted her momentarily bliss. The note she had left Alfred, not long before the explosion, was written in a moment in anger, where she told him she would have chosen Harvey over him.

And yet I'm here. Oh the irony.

Judging by the fact that Bruce was ever so happy to see her again after her 'death', he hadn't read it. Rachel wondered where Alfred kept the note. It wasn't fair if Bruce remained unknowing. He had the right to know what decisions she made just before the explosion. She had to deal with it.

It was chilly in the apartment. Rachel pulled the blanket closer around her.

Fingertips traced her back.

"You're up."

"Not really, I just woke up."

"Yeah, but sitting up-up." Bruce wrapped his arms around Rachel from behind.

It was bad timing to bring the note up, Rachel realized. But she was damn sure he wouldn't snuggle into her back if he knew what she had written him. The guilt rose up in her chest as he played with her hair.

Rachel chickened out pathetically. It didn't seem right to destroy his little bliss when he didn't even wear his pants. "You came here using the spare key, right?"

"Yeah."

"Which reminded me, I have to call the locksmith today."

She could almost hear him roll his eyes behind her back.

"You've already taken my spare key, don't you think it's going way too far to change the locks? Besides, Batman climbs wall very well."

She ignored the comment about his alter ego."No, but I don't want another unplanned visit, from anyone."

"Why, do you have reasons to believe someone will break in?"

Was she going to tell him about the note from Terence? Or should she give him another story? No, don't throw the batman cape on him right before you tell him you turned him down! The little irritating voice in her head that believed that he already had the cape on, was turned down. "I got the tip from my job to change the lock and install a second, because of my new position... paparazzi and such."

"Did you read the papers?"

"No, did I miss something."

"You're on the front page."

She moaned in anger.

"Got to get up now. I have a job to go to." She mumbled and walked out of the room, taking random clothes with her.

Shit!

Rachel stared into her reflection while she brushed her teeth. "What the hell am I supposed to do now? Tell him straight away? Or wait? No, that would be weird."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier, Rachel! I'm so depressed now when I don't have batman anymore and Wayne Enterprises just went bankrupt! My parents are dead, for gods sake! I even took the blame for your boyfriends deeds, is that not enough? Now I'm left with nothing except for my good looks!" Overreaction, but still. She knew how he would react.

"You rich bastard!"

"You said something?" Bruce leaned against the door frame with a smug smile.

"Yeah, 'you sick bastard'."

"What have I done now?"

"Not you, him, the murderer." She threw today's paper at him. "The real murderer, not the papers made up murderer."

"Do you read the papers in your bathroom?" He furrowed his brows and scanned the front page.

Gotham faces new murderer!

European student dead!

Expert: It might be batman!

"Occasionally." She dropped the subject and moved into the kitchen for breakfast. Maybe I should put him into food coma before I drop the bomb? He would be to full of food to notice... "Do you want some breakfast? Sadly, I don't serve lobster and Russian caviar. You will have to deal with cereal and milk."

"Outrageous." He agreed playfully.

"Help yourself."

They ate in silence. Rachel's fingers were shaking and coldness ran down her spine and out in her fingers. She had begun sweating. "Bruce?"

"Yes?"

"I have something to tell you."

"What?"

She went straight to the subject. "I wrote a note, before I- Before the explosion. I gave it to Alfred, for him to give it to you."

He stared at her with a stern look in his eyes, she could see he barely breathed.

"Where I wrote that I would choose-" She stopped, it was so hard to tell him the rest. "You deserve to know, Bruce, that you weren't my-"

"First choice?"

"No, no! You were my first choice, at first." What a ridiculous way of putting it, like a thirteen year old. She was shaking in her whole body now as she watched the broken man sitting in opposite of her. "But I changed my mind. I realized Batman was your life and I couldn't wait for you. I couldn't put myself on hold... so I wrote a note, explaining it all for you and I don't think you've read it."

"No, I haven't."

She sighed. "Alfred, dear Alfred. He's a romantic fool, I figure? Hopping that when I turned up, everything would go back to normal. Or just too old to sneak notes like a school boy?"

Bruce fiddled with the buttons on his shirt.

"I understand if you want to leave."

"Understand!" He echoed and shook his head. "What the hell was all this for you?" He asked, referring to the night. "A good meaningless time?"

"I didn't force you, you even broke into my apartment."

"And I didn't force you either!" He threw his hands in the air. "I don't know about you but to me it feels like hell being the second choice... yeah, the other guy died so I might as well go screw my backup plan." The comment he dropped was filled with iciness.

She stared back into his eyes. Rachel hadn't realized it was so serious to him, she felt horrible.

He looked away. "I'm sorry, that was not-"

"No, I should apologize. It's my fault, I led you to believe- I did a horrible thing to you."

"I should go." He got up.

A/N: Hello there, readers! Thanks for taking your time. Virtual cookies to everyone!