I do not own Batman. Sucks, don't it? I do own Eleanor Black and all the other characters and plot points that aren't part of the movie. Rated T for the same reasons the movie was rated PG-13. Enjoy.

Chances Are…
Chapter Three: A Robbery and A Scarecrow

It had been Bruce's idea to give the Gotham City Police Department stacks of money light irradiated in order to track movements of money through the mob systems. Well, Batman to the police. They didn't know who he was. Not yet anyway. Gordon had been a little reluctant at first, but eventually had complied and taken the bills, sending them through the system via undercover agents working in and around the mobs. It had quickly become apparent which of the banks were being run by the mobs and making drug buys. While keeping tabs on the Joker, Batman and the police were working with the city, trying fervently to take down and expose these banks and stop the trafficking of drugs, especially the Scarecrow's fear toxin that had made a resurgence in certain areas of the city. By exposing the banks, the members of the mob were also exposed and could be thrown behind metal bars.

The Joker himself hadn't become a serious threat yet. He was moving around in the background, and as far as I could tell from the news, Batman's word and the information flowing over the police scanner, he was manipulating the mobs and drug lords as they became more and more frightened of being caught by the police and slash or the caped crusader behind the Batsignal in the sky. He had probably amassed some sort of small fortune, but I had a feeling he would soon move into the foreground, and probably out of boredom. If there was one thing I had learned while working with Batman, even if it was only a few weeks, it was that inhabitants of Arkham were not ones to stay in the background; he had already put some of the inmates back in their cells, but there was a whole collection of nuts running around the Narrows just waiting to be thrown back into their confines. Hearing Bruce's recollections of encounters with those people made me glad I worked behind the scenes. And I wasn't looking forward to when the Joker was going to become more of a threat.

His white-painted face flashed through my mind and I cringed. The Joker terrified me.

But that didn't mean I was going to run away.

My work that day, down in the Bat Bunker, consisted of trying to find any information on the Joker and making a log of it. I was also doing some work for Lucius, something about shipping documents, but that kept getting minimized in favour of my Batman-related task. I wasn't having much luck finding anything on the Joker, much less something new. Bruce would have something to say about that. He had already made it clear he thought he had found everything there was to know about the clown-like criminal, and that my search was going to be in vain. I had chosen to ignore him and try anyway.

Bruce was sitting at the other computer terminal, several feet away and facing in the opposite direction, going over the photographs from the drug bust the night before. He was trying to track the Scarecrow. If he could get Jonathon Crane back into the asylum, that would be one less crazy on the streets and he could go back to concentrating on taking down the mob and lowering the crime rate of the city. Hopefully. As far as we knew, Jonathon Crane was the only person who could manufacture the fear toxin, so sticking him in the dank prison would get that dangerous drug off the streets. Unless he had trained someone to do it. That seemed unlikely through. He liked being superior, and giving someone his secrets would make him less so. At least Bruce was having better luck than I was finding information.

As Bruce got up to refill his coffee mug from the large thermos Alfred had brought him that morning, he appeared behind me, looking over my shoulder at the computer screen. "I thought you had work to do for Lucius today. He won't be happy if it doesn't get done." I could hear the unshed smile in his voice. Occasionally that happened.

I didn't look back at him. "I'll get to it."

"You're not going to find anything new on the Joker."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. Again."

Bruce sighed and sat on the empty stool beside me, cradling the steaming mug in his hands. For a few minutes, he didn't say anything, just watched my fingers snap across the keyboard. "I just mean I've already found everything about him that there is to find. No one knows where he came from, what his real name is, what's wrong with him – nothing. His records were destroyed. And it's almost impossible to track him for very long; he keeps moving." Again, there were a couple seconds of silence. "I'm not saying you're incapable, Eleanor."

"I can try." I finally turned to face him, and that electric feeling flew through my body. But this time, it didn't hang around. "I just don't think it would be a very good idea for you not to have everything you possibly can on this guy. If he suddenly starts moving around where we can get him, you can't be unprepared. And what if you missed one crucial piece of information? What if you missed something that will help you beat him?" I paused for a brief second, chewing on the corner of my lip, because I knew the protests my next words would bring. "He's dangerous… Not afraid to kill anyone who gets in his way and who's going to get more in his way than Batman? He will kill you."

Bruce just at me for a few more long moments of silence. I knew what he was thinking: that he wished I wouldn't worry so much and that I should know he was going to be fine. He was Batman. But he wouldn't say it. Not anymore. He'd tried to stop me before, but I would always argue. I think he'd finally decided it wasn't worth it if I would just keep doing what I was doing. The same logic applied to the argument over me staying in Bat Central. And I don't think he wanted me to say those three little words again. He knew how I felt and that those feelings were going to colour my actions and words and make me more inclined to stay and to help. Bruce didn't want to face the truth of my feelings… He was too busy thinking about Rachel and pining over the unreturned state of his own feelings.

Eventually he just nodded and returned to his own work station.

It was moments like those ones, when we were alone in Bat Central, starting at each other and avoiding the huge, gaping chasm filled with everything we didn't say, when I wished I was somewhere else. That might seem odd, since, you know, I was in love with Bruce and you'd think I'd savour any time I could steal with him. But it was just awkward whenever we were alone where no one else could hear or see us; well, I felt awkward. Bruce probably didn't. He had that uncanny ability to ignore what he should be feeling. I always felt like I should say something, but I could never figure out what to say. And I got the feeling Bruce wanted to say something too, but that was probably just wishful thinking on my part. I wanted him to say something, maybe apologize? I just wanted him to pay attention to me in any way but the friendly indifference he did now. That was frustrating. Infuriating. I wanted to be the one he was thinking about all the time. Not Rachel.

I looked over at Bruce, back turned to me now, and opened my mouth, but just like always, I closed it again, whatever words lost. Lost in the tumultuous storm of my head.

"You can go home tonight, Eleanor."

Bruce's voice was startling in the silence of the bunker and I jumped a few inches off my stool, stumbling from my seat as I came back down. His strong hand appeared on my arm and pulled me back up to my feet before I could collide with the concrete floors. Heat rushed into my cheeks when his hand didn't leave my arm; I wondered how he managed to travel those distances in the blink of an eye and always be right where you needed him. Where I needed him.

"I'm not going to need anyone down here," he added before I could protest at all. Not that I was going to, or anything… He let go of my arm and I leaned on the desk, the stupid blush still on my stupid cheeks. "I'm just going into the Chechen's territory to see if Gordon's mole's tip was legitimate. There's supposed to be a meeting in one of the parking garages. I'll be able to get in touch with you or Alfred if I need any help." His hazel-y eyes stared down at me, daring me to argue with him. The flame flared in my primal sweet spot, but for some reason, I didn't even bother. Just sighed and nodded.

"As long as you promise you will call me," I breathed.

He nodded his head once. That was as good as I was going to get, I guess.

I sighed for what felt like the millionth time and ran my fingers through my loose red-brown hair, flinging some random strands out of my eyes. "All right. Then I'll go home." From somewhere inside, I mustered a smile. "Blaze is probably going nuts anyway. I haven't been home since early this morning. He'll need to go for a long walk…" I actually smiled a bit at the thought of my husky jumping around and barking madly at the doors and windows, at anything moving outside. He was probably driving my neighbours crazy. If I was lucky, my neighbour across the hall, who did have a key, had gone into to check on my dog and maybe played with him for a few minutes. "I'll be back tomorrow night though." Hey, I had to get a point in there somewhere.

The smallest of smiles played across Bruce's lips. "All right."

I grabbed my backpack from its spot on the floor beside the desk and started for the platform, my flip-flops flip-flopping loudly on the hard floor. Bruce walked with me, probably just to make sure I'd actually leave and not demand to stay, and, as always, we walked in silence and I fought the urge to grab his hand. Why did he have to walk so close to me anyway? Gragh. As I stepped onto the middle of the platform and turned to face him, the police scanner fzzzted and startled me again. Man, I was jumpy today…

"All units respond. Bank robbery in progress at First Bank of Gotham City."

The platform had started to rise, but my eyes found Bruce's and he sighed, submitting to me over-stubbornness and desire to be involved. And probably the eagerness I could feel burning my eyeballs. He extended his hand and, smiling inwardly at my unintentional victory, I took it and hopped back to the concrete floor a little less than gracefully. Bruce had to steady me again and my cheeks immediately flared into fluorescent glory. I could feel Bruce's steady gaze on my back as I returned to the computer terminal. When I finally sat back down, Bruce was already sitting beside me, and damn it, I jumped again.

"Do you always have to just pop up like that? Can't you ever walk normally and make noise like a normal person? Scratch that; don't answer. You're not normal. You're the Batman. Right. I keep forgetting." Wow, just shut your mouth Eleanor.

Bruce shrugged and expelled what was on his mind anyway. "I'll head over to the bank after I investigate the Chechen's territory. Gordon and his men can work the scene first and I'll just look at the leftovers. Gordon will tell me anything I need to know about anything that's left the room. I have a feeling we won't find anything much anyway." He ran his fingers through his hair, sighing again, and then got to his feet and headed to the closet-thing where the Batsuit was.

I grudgingly averted my eyes.

The Chechen's territory was, like most of the poorer districts of Gotham, very poorly lit. For me, that wasn't a bad thing, as the lack of lighting provided many shadows to conceal myself in. I had been listening to the activity of families and pedestrians for a few hours now with no results. Now, I was hanging around some of the less-used warehouses and parking structures and buildings on the outskirts of the territory, still listening and still finding nothing. The meeting was supposed to be in one of these structures, but the mole could have been fed false information. He could have lied. It was very quiet out here, especially since Eleanor hadn't spoken in quite some time. She was probably still trying to find information on the Joker, even though I had told her she wasn't going to find anything else. I did admire her persistence and dedication.

'You there Bats?"

Speak of the devil. I rolled my eyes, wishing to some unseen person that she would stop coming up with nicknames for me and everything else. "I'm here." I was careful never to say her name or Alfred's when I was in proximity to anyone else or somewhere others might hear. No point in putting them in more danger than they were probably already in.

"Anything yet?"

"No. Not yet. Are the police still at the bank?" I hopped she was keeping tabs on that situation.

"As far as I can tell, they're still there. The CSI team is still there, and Gordon will probably show up a little later. I'll bet you anything he's not showing up until he thinks you'll be there."

"Well, if nothing happens around here shortly, I'll head over there. What information can you give me?"

"It was the Joker. They've got pictures of him from the security cameras, but nothing else. He escaped and they found four dead bodies with clown masks and the bank manager died shortly after they arrived." She paused, probably reading over notes she had made while eavesdropping on the emergency personnel. "That's about it. He only left the irradiated bills in the safe, so they can't track money flow from this bank. But it was a mob bank. That much is clear."

"Thanks."

I turned my gaze, enhanced by night vision lenses, to the parking garage across the street. Minimal activity, like it had been since I got there. Eleanor lapsed into silence waiting for me to say something else, and when I didn't, there was a click as the channel shifted back to the police scanner. For a while longer, there was no more activity across the deserted street and I half-rose, preparing to head back to where I had parked the Tumbler. A white van appeared. The kind used mostly by companies to make deliveries. When it pulled into the parking structure, I turned my attention back to the floor where I had seen a few people wandering around. The Chechen climbed out of one of the sedans, dogs barking around his feet.

Knowing this was what I'd come for, I descended from the roof I was inhabiting and, keeping to the shadows to stay invisible, made my way to the likely deserted apartment building beside the garage and grapple-lined up its roof. There was a large hole to my left as I landed. Briefly, I looked down. It was definitely deserted. That was good. That meant I didn't have to worry about innocent people getting injured If guns got involved, which they probably would.

I silently hoped Eleanor would keep her ears on the police scanner. Gun shots made her worry.

I also silently hoped I wouldn't get shot. Any injuries I sustained gave Rachel's argument that I should stop taking to the streets as Batman that much more credible and alluring.

Situated out of sight of those on the – I paused to count – seventh level of the garage, but so I could see and hear them, I waited. I listened. If this went well, I could get Crane and the Chechen as well as those who worked for them. Or some of them at least. But that was only if this went according to the plan forming in my mind as I watched.

"Look what your drugs have done to my buyers!" the Chechen was yelling. He was turned towards the back of the van, where the doors were flung open. I assumed that was where Crane was hiding, afraid to show his burlap mask in case I was nearby. "You made them crazy!"

There was movement as two overly large and armed men stepped out of the back of the white vehicle. A very slim man followed, wearing a new blue suit and the burlap mask which struck fear into everyone he looked at thanks to the compressed version of his fear toxin he kept on his wrist. My long-range listening device crackled as he laughed with a hissing quality. "Buyer beware," was all he said.

Then the gun shorts echoed.

"It's him! He's here!" the Chechen barked over the similar-sounded noises of his angry dogs. "Loose the dogs!"

I winced as the dogs were let off their leads. They might be a problem.

"That's not him."

The impostors. Great. Now I did have innocent lives to worry about. I'd have to try and detain them as well for the police. As I listened to the ensuing gun shots, I quickly pulled a device from my belt and pressed a few buttons. Below me, the Tumbler roared to life and, via the little screen on the device, I sped up the ramps and around the corners of the parking garage and sent the media-dubbed Batmobile flying through the concrete barrier, crushing several of the Chechen's cars in the process. Silence fell as all eyes turned to the car. Exactly the reaction I was going for. I pressed one more button and returned the device as I got to my feet and entered the structure myself.

The Tumbler fired a couple small missiles into the walls surrounding the staircase.

"That's more like it," Crane whispered to himself, unaware I could hear.

I allowed myself a small grin at that as I approached the closest impostor. Slipping my fingers through the grip of a hydraulic device and sparing a brief second to attach the rest of it to my arm, I stepped into view and grabbed the barrel of his shotgun, bending it down and rendering the weapon unusable, and with a swift punch to the solar plexus, incapacitating the impostor. Behind us, the others started firing again and I turned, preparing myself to enter the fray. The dogs were the first to reach me, teeth bared and drool flying. I sent one over the wall and knocked another to the side. The third one managed to get its teeth around my arm and as I shook it loose, I felt the knife-like teeth rip my skin. I stifled a shout.

Immediately after I felt a bullet ricochet off my armour, but the van had started moving, so I wasn't going to spare any time to chase after the shooters. Crane was in the van – I saw his masked face as he spun the vehicle around towards the exit ramps – and he was the main target. If everyone else got away, I needed to catch the Scarecrow. The vehicle passed me and I leapt, grabbing the nearest of the roof rails with one hand and jamming the sharp and hooked edge of the device on my arm into the metal, pulling down, attempting to tear open a point of access. It caught on something inside the van, and Crane, realizing I was stuck, veered towards a support pillar. A small groan escaped my lips as my right side connected with the concrete, the impact throwing me to the floor. I rolled to my feet, ignoring the pain traveling through my body in waves.

The impostor I had punched was sitting with his back against the wall, his fellow impostors chasing the remainder of the Chechen's men away. He too, I ignored and put one foot up on the low wall, listening to the sounds of the van as it sped around the structure, fervently heading for the exit.

Just before Crane reached the spot below me, I jumped.

And like every time I was relying on the strange fabric of my cape to slow me, I wondered at the curious sensation falling instilled in my stomach.

And then it was gone as the metal of the van crunched under my boots.

I reached into the cab through the shattered glass and grabbed Crane by the shoulder of his coat and shirt. Dazed by the impact, he didn't resist. Not until I wrenched him out the door and slipped one of the plastic ties around his wrists, serving as handcuffs until the police arrived. I dragged him over to the wall where the impostor was sitting; his friends seemed to have vanished. I handcuffed him as well. Crane's two overly muscled guards were unconscious, slumped against each other in the back of the van. One had a shallow laceration on his forehead and the other, a large bruise forming on one cheek. I cuffed and tossed them against the wall as well.

At my command, the Tumbler rolled to a stop beside me and I hopped in.

"We were just trying to help!" the impostor protested.

"I don't need any help."

"What makes you so different from us?!"

Alfred's words from the day before popped into my head. "I'm not wearing hockey pads." The Tumbler's hatch closed, setting me and the driver's seat into place. The engine's roar filled my ears, but only for a moment. Soon, Eleanor's voice took its place.

"I called the police. They're on their way to the parking garage." A pause. I could almost guess what she was going to say next. "That sounded violent."

"The impostors again," I mumbled, not keen on talking about it at that moment. I had never meant for people to think vigilante justice was a way for everyone to solve Gotham's problems. Batman was meant to inspire people to do what they could. Not to emulate what I was doing and get themselves killed… "I'm not sure if they all survived, but I think they did. I cuffed one of them. He's sitting with Crane and his grunts."

"All right." Another pause. When she spoke again, there was something missing from her voice. "Are you OK?"

I sighed, closing my eyes for the shortest of seconds. "I'm fine, Ellie."

"Good. Gordon's making his way to the bank now."

"Thanks."

"I'm going off now. I'll leave the scanner on, just in case."

I didn't say anything. There was nothing to say, really. I could tell by the tone of her voice that she was worried. My wounded arm suddenly flared in pain, as if telling me there was something behind Eleanor's worrying. But just like when it came to Rachel trying to convince me to stop being Batman, I ignored it until some later time when I could actually spare the thoughts to think about it.

I pulled the headset from my ears and placed it on the desk with a sigh. Leaning forward, I covered my eyes with my hands and tried to tell myself Bruce was OK. Through a curtain of my reddish hair, I watched the little lime green dot on the GPS screen telling me where the Batmobile currently was: about five blocks from the bank. The dot moved off the road and stopped moving. In my mind, I pictured Batman climbing out of the hidden car and taking to the roofs and running to the bank and then making some surprise appearance, startling Gordon like he so often startled me.

Unprovoked, my mind slipped back to that noise I had heard Bruce make. Amidst the growling and snarling of the dogs, I had heard something that sounded like a stifled scream. That noise had sent all sorts of images through my head. I was pretty sure he'd been bitten, but I wasn't sure because the suit was supposed to protect against all sorts of knives and bullets and weapons, so it should be able to protect him from a dog. Right? And bites could be pretty serious…

God Eleanor. He said he was OK. He's fine. He'll be back soon and then you'll see for yourself. He's fine. He's always fine…

I got up off the stool and started walking around the bunker, the noise from my flip-flops assaulting my ears. One circuit, two, three, four, and all I could think about was how much I'd worried when I'd heard the scream and all the gunshots. The sounds kept echoing through my head, reminding me, and I wondered if I could do this everyday. Could I sit here and listen as the man I loved put himself in life-threatening situations voluntarily? Could I listen as he narrowly dodged bullets and took out hardened mob criminals and escaped inmates from the insane asylum unarmed? More to the point, should I? Sitting through that might, no would, eventually drive me insane. Facing the possibility of Bruce not coming home night after night… I never would have admitted it to anyone, but at that moment, I could see the good in Rachel's pestering for the end of Batman. But I would never outwardly agree with her. For one, that would mean Bruce wouldn't be doing what he wanted, what he needed, what the city needed him to do. But, on a completely selfish point, if he stopped being Batman, then he and Rachel could actually be together. If that happened, I couldn't stick around. It was hard enough just being ignored because he was pining to be with her… If they were actually together, it would probably be like I never existed.

Come on Eleanor. Get it together. You're going to help Batman. You're going to stay.

Batman needed someone to believe in him. Someone who wasn't Alfred, who would have believed in Bruce no matter what he chose to do.

I suddenly smiled, thinking about what Alfred had said to me the day before.

Give Master Wayne some time.

I was worth something to him, even if he couldn't see it yet.

My mind was slightly settled. I stared at the part of the wall that opened up onto the road for a minute, thinking for some bizarre reason that he'd be on his way back already. On a sudden impulse, I looked at the clock. It was about two in the morning.

OK, if I was going to stay, I would need to get some sleep, because I still had to go to work. But I wanted to be here when he got back. I liked being the first person he saw after a night of crime fighting. I looked for anywhere I could rest that wasn't the desk, and found it behind the computer terminal. It looked as if Alfred had brought a comfortable chair down here so he had somewhere to sit while Bruce was working. Smiling, I plunked myself down and pulled my sweater tighter around myself.

Blaze popped into my head as I was drifting off. He would have to go out in the morning, and I mostly likely wouldn't have the time, what with sleeping here and then rushing around trying to get ready in the morning. I phoned my mother's cell phone, which would be off at this time, and asked her to go to my apartment and check up on my dog. Feeling bad about not making the time for my Siberian husky, I thought about maybe taking him to my parents, but than decided he'd be fine if I brought him with me more.

Now I was settled.

I closed my eyes and fell asleep almost instantly.

Somewhere in my dreams, I was aware of Bruce's return to the Bat Bunker.

Author's Note… OK, I'm going to apologize for the late update, even though I've been continually told not to. It's been over a month, and I feel really bad, but it's hard for me to remember to do everything while I've school going on. And right now, I've got four essays due soon and I'm struggling a bit to keep up with my writing. The only reason I'm updating this now is because I need a break. (exasperated sigh) So, I hope this chapter is up to your expectations, even though I'm not that happy with it and can't get it to a point where I am happy with it. I've been thrown back onto a Bleach kick, so... Even though that's not an excuse, that's all you get. The response to this story has been phenomenal, and it means so much to me, and I want to write chapters you all enjoy.

And I tried to add in another dimension with the multiple first person POVs. I hope that came across clear. I've never done something like that before.

Oh, and if you didn't notice, I changed my Pen Name to "The Batchild". Fits me better. (sticks tongue out)

Anyways, a bit of a treat. These are the lyrics to "Chances Are" by Vonda Shepard and Robert Downey Jr. This song kind of inspired the story a bit, and it for sure gave me a title. Just ask Shauna. I struggled with finding a title for this fic real bad. If you listen to the song, you have to reverse the roles. Like what RDJ sings would be from Eleanor's POV and VS would be Bruce's POV. It just doesn't work as well the other way. (sheepish smile) If you're interested, some other songs that fit Eleanor and Bruce's relationship are: "Life By The Drop" by Stevie Ray Vaughn, "Slow Dancing in a Burning Room" by John Mayer and "I Will Show You Love" by Kendall Payne. Also "Why Don't You Love Me?" by Amanda Marshall, although Eleanor knows the answers to most of the questions in the song.

Chances Are by Robert Downey Jr. and Vonda Shepard

Chances are you'll find me
Somewhere on your road tonight
Seems I always end up driving by
Ever since I've known you
It just seems you're on my way
All the rules of logic don't apply

I long to see you in the night
Be with you 'til morning light

I remember clearly how you looked
The night we met
I recall your laughter and your smile
I remember how you made me
Feel so at ease
I remember all your grace, your style

And now you're all I long to see
You've come to mean so much to me

Chances are I'll see you
Somewhere in my dreams tonight
You'll be smiling like the night we met
Chances are I'll hold you and I'll offer
All I have

You're the only one I can't forget
Baby you're the best, I've ever met

And I'll be dreaming of the future
And hoping you'll be by my side
And in the morning I'll be longing
For the night, for the night

Chances are I'll see you
Somewhere in my dreams tonight
You'll be smiling like the night we met
Chances are I'll hold you and I'll offer
All I have

You're the only one I can't forget
Baby you're the best I've ever met

Next Chapter: A New Batsuit, Eh? Gee, I wonder what's going to happen? We're into the movie now, so the basic course of action is going to be predictable. But I'll try and make it more interesting. (sticks tongue out)