La Rosa Rossa caught her breath as she soared through the streets of Gotham. She felt, for an instant, a silly urge to fling her arms wide, like Lois Lane flying with Superman.

Well, he may be Superman, but I'm sure as hell not Lois Lane, La Rosa Rossa thought with a smirk as she looked at the city life below her. Steam rose up from the streets, as well of the sounds of Gotham getting ready for the night. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in the city that she both hated and loved. Above her, Batman made no sound or movement except for the occasional adjustment of his arms around her waist. La Rosa Rossa wasn't about to turn and look at him, as impossible as it would be to come face to face in this awkward situation.

Suddenly, below her, there came the sound of a gunshot, and a high-pitched scream. Immediately, iLa Rosa Rossa/i disappeared and Rosa occupied her own body again. Her eyes popped open and she began squirming in Batman's grip.

"Stop! Stop!," she cried, as Batman flew on. "Someone's hurt down there!"

"We don't have time," a growl came to her ear. "But if you keep moving around like that you just may be able to drop in on them. I doubt you'd be much use at that point, though."

Rosa gritted her teeth, her instincts crying out for her to aid the people below. Gordon was with his sister – it was unlikely that a dispatch would be sent to him, and he was really the only other person she trusted on the force. Furious now, she gripped Batman's arms, her knuckles and fingers beginning to hurt with the pressure.

"If you really want to try flying on your own, just keep that up," Batman said in a low voice, but he shifted his grip so she could hold on to his arms more securely.

They approached The Narrows in silence, and Rosa gave Batman terse instructions to the apartment complex that the empty-yet-noisy apartment was a part of. They reached it in a few more moments, and Batman settled on the fire escape, carefully setting Rosa's feet on the ground. For a moment, she felt dizzy, but she grabbed on to the railing of the fire escape until her eyes stopped spinning.

As she turned around, she noticed Batman had flung his cape aside, and was retrieving something from his belt. She had no idea what it was, but knew enough to realize that it was an extremely advanced, and therefore expensive, piece of technology. The pointed Batman symbol was set on top of it, a glint of silver against the black instrument.

"What is that?" she whispered harshly.

"How do bats see?" came the response. Then Batman slid the instrument open and placed it against the wall, then put his eye against it.

"I don't know. How do bats see?" Rosa asked, extremely annoyed.

Batman looked away from his instrument and to Rosa, who was now leaning against the rail.

"They see by measuring how long it takes their sound wave to reach an object and come back to them," he said, still holding the instrument in place. It let out a series of low pitched beeping, and the viewscreen became green with the picture of the room inside. Gesturing to the screen, Batman began, "Would you like to have the pleasure?"

Rosa sprung toward the wall and put her eye against the screen, enjoying the feeling of voyeurism that came with seeing through brick. It was fairly innocuous – a bathroom of to the back right, litter scattered about the floor, and a stuffed armchair sitting in the middle, open to Rosa through the viewfinder. Impressed despite herself, Rosa stood back, and Batman took over, noting the objects in the room.

As she retreated back against the fire escape's rail, Rosa's gaze fell to the left, where a couple was arguing loudly inside the apartment. To her horror, the door to the balcony slid open, and out stepped a blond-headed boy. Rosa judged him to be twelve or thirteen, and wished fervently that he wouldn't be too interested in the scenery.

Rosa darted forward and rapped Batman on the shoulder, hurting her knuckles and only succeeding in hearing a clicking sound. Right. He was wearing body gear… .

For a moment, Rosa forgot about the boy as her mind went reeling back in time. A man had just crashed through her window, disturbing her bath, and she had confronted him in her bathrobe. A mixture of embarrassment and irritation swept over her as she made the connection between the thief's body armor, and the stuff that Batman was now wearing. She tried to recall his features – dark hair, dark eyes, muscular… just the description of about half the men in Gotham.

… but one man in particular. She had seen those eyes before; many times in fact. A gasp escaped her throat as she matched the man standing before her, looking intently through the viewfinder of his expensive (expensive!) instrument. She pictured the same eyes taunting her, and looking angrily into her father's face, then into her own. Lastly, the eyes appeared to her, wearing an expensive suit with a pinky ring, leaning forward to shake Gordon's hand. She hissed with frustration, and Batman finally turned around.

They both noticed the that the boy's attention had turned toward them at the same time, probably having heard Rosa's gasp and hiss. Batman darted a lightning-fast look at her, communicating endless frustration at this kink in the process, and then he turned toward the boy.

"You're… you're the one they're all talking about," the voice broke a couple of times as the boy stated this. "They call you Batman!"

"What do they call you, then?" Rosa interrupted quickly.

The boy looked shocked, and then a sort of feeling of honor passed over his features, and he stood up straight. "Dick Grayson. My friends call me Robin, I'm really good at climbing and jumping off of stuff." Then he looked down, sullen, and said lowly to himself, "They'll never believe I saw you."

At this sad proclamation, Batman took his instrument off the wall and clicked it shut, then threw it to the boy, who caught it expertly.

"Dick? Get back in here!" an angry voice yelled from inside the house. Robin Grayson looked up at Batman longingly, then pocketed the black instrument and went inside, sliding the door carefully shut.

A moment of silence passed between the two on the fire escape, and then Batman spoke. "Listen. I'm going to go in through the window and…"

"I'm coming with you," Rosa said obstinately. Then, recalling her recent thoughts, she stepped forward aggressively toward the window and began to work at lifting it up.

"No, you're not. You came this far… I don't know if you're a thrill-seeker, or if you just have a deathwish. If so, we're quite high up. This is where the real work begins, and I don't want to be having to look after some policewoman who's in way over her head."

Calmly, she turned around. "I don't fancy working with a spoiled brat of a man who never grew out of his childhood, either, but we can't always choose our partners, can we?"

"… a spoiled brat…?"

"Well, you were. Even Alfred thought so."

Batman froze in place for a split second, and then deliberately relaxed his body position.

"And who might Alfred be?"

"Oh, you know. Tall, white hair, British accent. Alfred."

An unidentifiable sound came out of Batman as he turned away. His fist pounded the brick wall, and then he turned back around, his mouth open, his eyes questioning.

"Ray…?"

"I haven't known you quite as long as her, Mr. Wayne. But very close to it."

She could practically hear the cogs of Batman's brain turning – she could practically sense the change from his businesslike manner to one of confusion, surprise, and not a little anger.

"So are you going to have to kill me for this information, Bruce?" She stood, her arms folded, against the rail. "But then, it would look a little strange for the police to find someone dressed like me dead – might they think that the Batman worked alone, on pain of death? You wouldn't be a very cooperative figure then, no matter how many crime bosses you managed to tie down to skylights." Especially after Jim Gordon took of the mask, Rosa thought to herself.

"All right, so you know who I am," Batman uttered. "Don't you think you'd better reciprocate?"

"And therefore surrender my only protection? It's a hell of a lot easier to get rid of a civilian subtly than it is to get rid of a… well… whatever you call yourself. Superhero?"

"Assuming that there are people out there who know that said superhero exists…"

Ouch. Rosa quickly covered. "There are. I just prefer to work without the limelight. Jesus God, Bruce, even anonymous you want to get publicity."

There was no reply to that.

"Well then, hadn't we better get in there and grab some drugs from the big bad dealer?" She stepped forward, next to Batman, and began to tug at the window. It was rusted shut, so she retrieved the knife from her boot and worked it between the glass and the windowsill.

"You've been very helpful," Batman said slowly. "So I don't think there's a need to silence you… yet. But wait…" Rosa turned in time to see him smile. "If you told anyone, I'd know who 'the civilian' was. And as you said, that's your only protection." Now, he applied his strength to the window, and it slid up, halting as it met rust on the way up.

"I guess we're both stuck, then."

"I guess. Ladies first."

Rosa entered the apartment on cautious feet, watching the ground for some kind of booby trap, and treading lightly. There – on an armchair in the middle of the room, just as Batman's gadget had seen. Stuffed rabbits. She picked one up and tossed it behind her, feeling rather than hearing Batman catch it. Then she picked another one, rolling it around in her hands. The stitching at the head of the thing wasn't at all secure – in fact, the head was already half off. Obviously, this bunny was not meant for rough handling, as it wouldn't have survived anything past the trip from the docks to this remote apartment.

Gripping the head firmly in her hands, Rosa pulled it off and tossed it aside on the floor. Inside, a small plastic packet held a white powder. She didn't dare open it – even if it was only some sort of drug, like cocaine. What if this was some sort of biological weapon? What if it was anthrax? She turned around and faced Batman, but he had already dropped his specimen on the floor. She stilled at once, and they both heard the same thing : voices and footsteps approaching the room.

Quickly, Rosa stuffed the packet into her black bag of rose petals. There was no time to go back out the window; both she and Batman were too far in. She was barely conscious as Batman's cape whisked across her cheek as he ran to the bathroom, but she was conscious enough to notice his arm pointing to the corner of the room – a medium-sized trunk sat on the floor, obviously not large enough to fit a bulking man in full bat-costume, but which might be just big enough to fit a slender woman, whose costume had nothing that stuck out. She closed the lid on herself just as she heard the sounds of a key unlocking the door, and then they were in.

Rosa stifled a gasp of recognition – Dr. Jonathan Crane, head of the asylum where so many of her father's goons were stashed cozily away from prison, was head of the pyramid, two other men flanking him.

She expected them to immediately go to the armchair and start packing, which is what the workman did. But Dr. Crane stopped them after only a moment, holding his hand in the air. He brushed through the goons and looked at the topmost rabbit – the one with its head off; the one with the drugs gone. His gaze went from there to the missing head, and then to a full-bodied bunny nearer to the window.

"Collect them, then torch the place," he said softly. It was the same voice that he used in court, calm and collected and in control, a slightly monotonous tone. His gaze now darted around the apartment, falling on the open window. His eyes flashed, but no other part of him told of his thoughts – he knew they were still here. Quietly, he retreated into the background, to a suitcase sitting on the ground near the door.

But that was the end of the observation period. One of the goons, it seemed, had chosen this time to use the bathroom. Rosa almost laughed aloud – that would be an extremely pleasant experience, she thought. The other was slowly backing the remaining bunnies in a black garbage sack, and as he finished, a cry of pain and an enormous thump came from the bathroom.

Batman – One. Crane – Zero, Rosa thought, and then decided it was her turn to make a contribution. She narrowed her eyes at number two, who, of course, was showing no sign of concern for his friend, but instead had picked up a gun from the floor and was pointing it at the ceiling, his finger on the trigger.

She popped out of the trunk like some demented Jack-in-the-Box, and headed straight for him. He had time to get one shot in, and Rosa hoped he would be smart enough to aim for her heart or stomach. Sure enough, she felt the impact right next to her belly button, which made her stop mid step and give a shuddering gasp of pain, her hand flying to her gut. Obviously, he thought she was done with, so he returned to his task of packing, but not for long – a high-kick to the head took care of anymore thoughts that he might have had.

Where was Crane?! Rosa thought, her eyes scanning the room. Batman had come out of the bathroom, and was heading to the window, but she gestured to stay put. She could think of a couple of things she wanted to do to the bastard, and she wasn't about to run out now.

What she expected, though, was not what came to pass. Crane appeared, of course, but it wasn't… Crane. He wore some sort of mask made of what looked like a potato bag over his head, jagged eyes and a smiling mouth poorly cut out of the thing. And then there was a spraying sound…

It felt like her head was vibrating, the floor moving under her feet, and she stumbled around, finally getting a hold on the armchair. She looked behind her and screamed – Batman was no longer Batman – his eyes glowed red and his mouth was open, revealing long fangs, dripping with blood and saliva. His mask's ears grew and became deadly points. She saw him stumbling around, but perceived him to be heading her way, and she crumpled to the ground, shivering and whimpering.

Somewhere, a sinister voice came out of the darkness. "Well one I've heard about, but not two…" She was being forced up, her eyes screwed shut, and a hand was lifting her chin. "Open your eyes," the voice commanded harshly. Feebly, Rosa shook her head. "Open them!" She screamed softly, then did as the voice said.

She was looking into the hemp face of Crane… but it, too, had horribly changed. The eyes glowed like burning coals, and the mouth was dark and slimy, some viscous black fluid was dripping onto the floor, onto her!

Rosa scrabbled out of the monster's grip, frantically brushing her top free of the fluid, but it seemed to be stretching out, covering more ground. It was covering her! She was going to be smothered! Even more frantically, she began to brush off the liquid from her legs, arms, neck – she could feel it in her hair, she could feel it in her nose and mouth!

Then the room was suddenly lit up, and the bat-demon was in flames. As the black monster reached out for her again, she felt herself being swooped up (the liquid was between her toes and entering every crevice of her skin. She was going to suffocate!) and there was a long, long falling. The bat-demon rolled around on the ground, and the flames diminished, and then went out. Something shot up into the sky, and again she was grabbed, only this time to go up, soaring up, forever and ever…

With the last reservation of her sanity, Rosa heard someone say, from a very long way away, "Alfred! Alfred! Alfred!!"

And then all she knew was terror.