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 Ten: Funeral; Rachel Named.

Eleanor returned to the bunker early in the afternoon, a pile of paper in one arm, her giant purse slung over one shoulder and her phone pressed between her ear and her other shoulder; evidently she was steal fielding phone calls about the Joker showing up at my penthouse the night before. Her face was red and she looked livid. Alfred and I stopped the diagnostic we were running on the systems and watched as she stomped across the floor, dropped her bag on the floor beside the armchair, tossed the papers on the desk and then hung up the phone and dropped it none-too-gently on the surface of the desk, the little screen on the front of the device cracking with the force.

She huffed and then said, "I think I'm going to need a new phone." And then she sat down in the armchair, legs folded underneath her and half-collapsed against one arm. She looked like she was reaching her wits' end with the reporters.

"You dropped off the scans for Lucius?" I asked, turning back to the array of computer screens.

"Yes. He said he should be done with them around five." When I didn't respond, the chair creaked and Eleanor appeared at my shoulder. "You have a lunch to get to, Bruce. With the CEO of North Star Technologies or whatever the name of that company was."

I turned at looked at Eleanor, who appeared to be trying to remember the specifics of the meeting. "I know," I said. "I won't be late."

She huffed again and I saw the ends of her hair as she ran her fingers back through the reddish locks before gathering it in a ponytail at the base of her neck. "Bruce, the lunch is in half an hour. Afterwards we can head over to Wayne Enterprises and see what Lucius came up with." Eleanor returned to her bag and pulled out a hooded sweater. "I'll be down here if you need me."

I submitted the desk to Eleanor, who was already pulling up her favourite stool—the one that squeaked—and headed towards the lift, Alfred following. "What are you going to do down here all afternoon?" I asked.

Eleanor shrugged as she pulled her laptop out of her bag and arranged it on the slightly cluttered desk. "I don't know. I'll think of something."

Shaking my head, Alfred and I left the bunker in the hands of Eleanor—who I was beginning to realize was far more capable of handling things than I had thought she'd be—and returned to the car. I was at the restaurant, dressed and in full billionaire persona twenty minutes later, ready to endure a business lunch. It was a responsibility I didn't particularly enjoy and, normally, didn't do; Lucius was the one who usually took care of the lunches and the meetings, but the man I was meeting had requested to talk to the owner of the company specifically.

The man, Mr. Thomas—a typical young businessman with a three-hundred dollar haircut and a seven-thousand dollar suit—arrived right on time and was perfectly polite and well-rehearsed. At the end of the meal, I gave him Lucius' card and told him to call him the next morning to work out the details, because, as much as I disliked some of the aspects of running a business, North Star Technologies would be an excellent partner for the company, and as they specialized in medical technology, it would provide a great story about the progression of the company for the newspapers. The young CEO left the meeting smiling and with the promise he would be in touch tomorrow.

Once Alfred had picked me up and I was sitting in the back of the car, I phoned Eleanor.

"Hello Mr. Wayne," she answered, putting as much slime in her voice as she could; I could almost hear her laughing. "What can I help you with?"

"I'm going to head over to Wayne Enterprises to meet Lucius. Anything on the scanner?"

"Nope. All is quiet down here. They haven't heard anything from the Joker, although they've got a ton of extra security around Mayor Garcia and are pretty much prepared for anything. I picked up a call from Gordon, too. He was double-checking the security measures for the parade tomorrow. They're doing a run through tonight."

I nodded along as she informed me. "Good. I'll check in later if nothing else comes up. Keep—"

"Listening? I never stop, Bruce. And you know what else never stops? These damn calls about last night."

I felt myself smile at her frustration. "So I take it your phone is okay?"

"Oh yeah, it works real well..." She grumbled something unintelligibly and then said, "I'll see you when you get back."

I ended the call without saying goodbye and Alfred drove through the mid-afternoon traffic to Wayne Enterprises. Lucius was on the phone when I arrived, so I settled myself in one of the chairs and waited.

"How was lunch with Mr. Thomas?" Lucius asked once he was off the phone.

"It went well. He should be calling you tomorrow morning at some point to discuss the details," I said with a slight grin, knowing that Lucius would find that statement at least slightly amusing.

He gave me a small grin. "All right."

"Have you finished with the scans?"

The older African-American man nodded and took a drink from the mug of coffee next to his hand. "Yes. I was able to finish earlier than I told Eleanor. One of the meetings this afternoon was cancelled. You did an impeccable job with the scans, Bruce." I inclined my head in acknowledgement and Lucius said, "There is something I need to tell you."

"What is it?" I leaned forward, intrigued by the suddenly serious tone of my friend's voice.

"Mr. Reese was going over the annual numbers for the company and he came across the plans for the Tumbler, the old suit and several of the gadgets. He made the connection between you and the Batman. I believe I managed to persuade him he is wrong about you, but we should keep a close eye on him in the coming months." Something must have shown on my face because Lucius continued. "I will encrypt all the files so only you, Eleanor and myself have access, unless you don't want her to have access."

I seriously thought about that for a moment. Did I want Eleanor to have access to all the files relating to Batman? She already had unrestricted access to Applied Sciences, where all the gadgets I used as Batman came from, so what would it be to leave her file access intact? With a slight sigh, I realized the largest question here was did I trust Eleanor enough. She had made herself a part of Batman's world against my better judgement and my pushing. She had been determined to get where she was and I had a feeling she would find a renewed determination if she found out she didn't have access to the files anymore. There really was no point in trying to push her away, because Eleanor would just come back. And I quite liked having her around, as much as it bothered me to admit that, even to myself.

"Eleanor can have unrestricted access to everything," I said.

Lucius seemed only mildly surprised. "Very well. Shall we head downstairs to have a look at that scan then?"

"Ms. Black, why don't you take the rest of the night off?"

I pushed against the leg of the desk, turning the armchair until I could see Alfred. I was upside down, with my hair brushing the concrete floor of the bunker and my ankles crossed in the air; the headset was around my neck and the volume was turned up so I wouldn't miss anything. My face was probably damn near purple from all the blood rushing to my head and there was a headache starting somewhere behind my eyes. "Why would I want to take the rest of the night off?" I asked the butler.

"You appear to be quite bored."

I struggled to get upright again and once I was using the chair properly, I took a moment to let the blood return to where it was supposed to be and to let the pounding subside. "I am, but this is my job, right? I can't leave because that'll prove to Bruce that I can't do this."

"Are you still trying to prove yourself worthy to Master Bruce?"

I looked at Alfred and tried to appear surprised at the suggestion, but I couldn't do it. "I have to, Alfred. He keeps looking for reasons to get me out of here. As much as he tries to accept that I'm here, as much as he keeps me involved, I have to keep fighting for my position." Alfred seemed to consider my words. "I don't want to leave, Alfred."

"I am aware of that, Ms. Black, but the parade is tomorrow and the three of us are going to be down here for most of the day. A night in a proper bed—"

"Will be great." I sighed, resigned. "Maybe I will... Bruce won't hold one night against me, will he?"

Alfred gave me a warm smile that told me he was pleased. "On the contrary. I believe he will be pleased to see you taking your health into account." As I nodded and got to my feet, preparing to gather my things and leave, Alfred caught my eyes with his steady, light blue gaze. "He does care about you, Eleanor."

I frowned, and just nodded before I went about preparing to leave.

Before I went to the penthouse, I went to my apartment and walked Blaze, promised him I'd take him back to my parents' house where he could get the attention he deserved, and packed a bag with clean clothes and some new books, and then I made my way to Bruce's massive apartment. I dropped my bag in the guest room, changed into my pyjamas—a pair of plaid shorts and a baggy t-shirt—and wandered around, trying to make myself feel tired. As I made my way down the hall to where Bruce's largely unused bed was, my cell phone, which was clutched in my hand, buzzed and started playing the weird ringtone I'd assigned Bruce.

"Hey," I said.

"Having trouble getting to sleep?"

"I haven't even tried yet. What's up?"

"We got a thumb print off the bullet. I'm going to run it through the system while I'm out on patrol. I'll let you know if we find anything."

"Good."

There was a pregnant pause. "Ellie, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I swiftly lied. "I'll see you tomorrow before the parade."

"Okay."

It was my turn to end the call without saying goodbye. I dropped the phone on the nightstand beside Bruce's bed and fell into the bigger-than-king-sized monstrosity before I wiggled under the covers.

I fell asleep around two in the morning—my average since working for Batman—and managed three hours before footsteps woke me up. Apparently I'd developed an overactive sense of hearing or something. You had to have one when you were around Batman or you would never hear him. Of course, that didn't mean that Bruce still couldn't sneak up on me, because he did it frequently. I sat up in the massive bed, untangled my legs from the thick comforters and put my feet on the chilly floor, intending to stand up and find out who was home, but I didn't need to wait that long.

Bruce came around the edge of the room divider, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Apparently he had just come home to change. "I didn't mean to wake you," he said.

I shrugged and then locked my fingers and stretched them up towards the ceiling, my shoulders giving a couple satisfying pops. "Don't worry about it. I would have been up soon anyways. I haven't had more than five hours of sleep since I started working for you." I climbed out of bed and padded across the floor until I was standing in front of Bruce, something in that closeness making goosebumps prickle along my arms and shivers dance up and down my spine. "We're got to get ready for the parade." I placed a hand on his forearm as I passed, but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me around to face him.

There was something in his eyes, something that told me there was something he wasn't telling me, but it was a look I was getting used to. "You... don't have to come today," Bruce said, his tone not the one he normally used when trying to push me away. This was softer.

"Bruce..."

His hand tightened on my wrist and then slid down to squeeze my hand before dropping contact completely. "Just think about taking the day off, okay?"

Before I could stop myself, I nodded. "Fine, I will. Are you going to tell me why?" Bruce opened his mouth, but I held up my hand to silence him. "You don't have to answer." I smiled at him to show that I wasn't mad about being kept in the dark, because even though it bothered me sometimes, I kind of understood. "I know what you're going to say. I'll see you later, or I'll see you tomorrow."

Bruce looked intently at me for a minute. He seemed like he was going to say something else, but he kept his mouth shut, settling instead for a nod the half-smile that was fast becoming his most revealing expression. And then he left.

I huffed and sat back down on the bed, the comforter giving a soft whoosh as the air escaped. After a moment of feeling like I was going to scream, I got to my feet again and walked into the bathroom, brushed my hair, undressed and climbed into a hot shower. Clean and feeling more awake than a cup of coffee could have made me, I dressed in my favourite jeans and, feeling today was appropriate, the t-shirt bearing the bat symbol I'd bought from a man selling them on the street downtown.

For about an hour, I walked around the penthouse, hearing my footsteps echo around the massive rooms and wondering how long I should wait before going down to the bunker. I wanted Bruce to think I'd actually given serious thought to taking the day off, even though he probably wouldn't buy it anyway. I sighed and went to the guestroom to gather my things. I shoved a change of clothes, several books and my laptop into my bag, leaving much of what I'd brought in the guestroom, scattered across the bed; I'd clean it up later. Knowing Alfred would ask, I made myself breakfast before I left and then I called my parents to ask them if they'd please take Blaze.

"Is something wrong, Ellie?" my father asked once I'd given him my request.

"No, I'm just busy working for Bruce and Blaze deserves more attention than I can give him." I slipped my bag over my shoulder and fished my keys out of my pocket as I headed towards the elevator. "Dad, I promise nothing is wrong," I said, knowing what was coming next.

"I believe you, honey, but you seem to be working yourself harder now than you were as Lucius' assistant."

"What can I say? Bruce is a demanding boss."

"Are you happy?"

I blinked. "Yes Dad, I am." This was not a lie.

"All right. I'll head over and get Blaze after work tonight. Will he be okay until then?"

"Yeah. He's got food and water. Thanks Dad."

"It's not a problem Ellie. Just be sure you're taking care of yourself as well as Bruce."

"I will Dad. Love you."

"Love you too."

I had to stop myself from hanging up before he said goodbye, which told me maybe I had been spending too much time with Bruce. Laughing slightly to myself, I climbed into the private elevator and headed down to the parking garage.

I was in the bunker by eight o'clock, much to Bruce's chagrin. I ignored the look of disappointment he gave me when I walked in. "Is there anything you want me to do before I settle in? Any assistant duties?"

"No."

"Ah, I see we're already in Batman mode. So," I asked as I climbed onto my squeaky stool, "What's the plan?"

The funeral parade was scheduled to start at five o'clock, but will all the security procedures and the extra measures in place, it was closer to six when the procession finally got underway. Alfred and I were sitting in the bunker, plugged in and listening and Bruce was on his way to the Randolph Apartments, number 1502, a rental belonging to Melvin White, the man the thumb print on the bullet had led us to. As it was still day time, he wasn't dressed in the Batsuit, but he wasn't going out as the playboy either. It was bizarre to see him so much the Batman without the costume.

"The Joker has Gordon's men tied up in here," Bruce said, his voice the baritone growl of Batman. "He's had people take their uniforms—they're down with the police in the parade."

"Can you spot them?" I asked. Alfred was fiddling with another scanner, trying to pick up on the police communications at the parade. Voices cracked from his headset and he nodded. "Alfred's got the police chatter, but they haven't picked up that anything's wrong."

"And they won't. The Joker is too good."

Shots rang out, crackling over the headset. I bit off a shriek as the feedback tore through my head. "What the hell was that?"

"A trap. A signal."

I sat upright quickly as Alfred pulled the headset out of his scanner, and I could hear the shouts of the policemen.

"It's the Joker! Protect the mayor!"

"Get up to the stage!"

"ARRRGH—"

There was a serious of gunshots and screams.

"Gordon's down! Gordon is down! Somebody get the Joker!"

I felt as if they wind had been knocked from my chest. Lieutenant Gordon couldn't be dead. He was Batman's link to the police, he was one of the only people in a position of power who supported the Batman. I had never met Gordon personally, but... he couldn't be dead. Batman needed him.

"Ms. Black?"

I realized I had doubled over and was staring at the floor. There were tears on my cheeks. I sat up again and looked at Alfred, whose eyes were locked on me. He reached out and grabbed my hand. The voices of the police continued to crackle around me, but I didn't hear a thing they were saying. I squeezed Alfred's hand and the wiped my face, forcing myself to return to my job. I readjusted the headset so it sat properly on my ears and tried to make my voice sound like it wasn't full of tears.

"Why's happening?"

"It's chaos. I'm coming back."

"It's a little early to start patrol, don't you think?"

"The Joker got away again, Eleanor," Bruce nearly snarled. "This has got to stop. I've got to find him." And then he shut off communications.

It was only about twenty minutes before we heard the roar of the bike's engine and the panel in the wall rose to show the hidden road and a second later, Bruce appeared, the red bike skidding to a stop beside the Tumbler. He shut off the engine and moved towards the Batsuit almost at a run. I was on my feet and heading towards him almost as quickly.

"Bruce, is Gordon really dead?"

He just looked at me.

"Be... be careful."

I turned around and started walking back to the desk.

"Eleanor." I turned around again and found Bruce standing, half-dressed as Batman, and directly in front of me. "Don't listen for a couple hours, okay?"

"What? Why?"

He made his face pleading. "Please."

I sighed, my shoulders sagging slightly and I leaned into Bruce's hand when he placed it on my shoulder, at the base of my neck. "Fine."

They were the longest two hours of my life.

I must have walked around the bunker at least twenty times, making sure I touched every corner. It was the only thing that I could focus on doing because my mind kept wandering and I didn't really need my mind to walk. I tried reading, but I kept rereading the same line, and I couldn't find anything to talk to Alfred about, because he kept asking me if I was okay. I didn't like not being connected to Batman, and while Alfred didn't like it either, he had more practice and wasn't anywhere near as on edge as I was.

The gunshots from earlier kept ringing in my head, and I kept seeing Bruce get shot. I kept hearing strangled screams and getting images of Batman lying on the concrete in a pool of blood.

I screamed and kicked the wall.

"Ms. Black?"

"What?" I snapped.

"It's been two and a half hours."

I leapt back to the desk and pulled the headset on. I flicked the switch and the line crackled to life.

"He's named Rachel! He's going to go after her next!" Dent's voice bellowed. It echoed strangely, and I figured they were standing in an alley or some similarly enclosed space. "He's going to kill Rachel!"

"You're the symbol of hope I could never be," Batman said. His voice had dropped some of the growl and I had a seriously inkling I'd missed most of what was a very important conversation. "Your stand against organized crime is the first legitimate ray of hope in Gotham for decades. If anyone saw this, everything would be undone—all the criminals you got off the streets would be released. And Jim Gordon would have died for nothing." There was a moment of stunned silence. I wondered what Batman had be talking about; what was Dent doing? "You're going to call a press conference. Tomorrow morning."

"Why?"

I conquered with Dent. What was Bruce up to? A hard knot of fear had formed in my gut because I had a feeling I knew what was coming next, and I knew that Bruce had been feeling out of control for a while, but he wouldn't...

"No one else will die because of me. Gotham is in your hands now."

"You can't! You can't give in!"

"WHAT?" I heard myself roar. I was standing and didn't remember rising to my feet. I turned to Alfred, who looked a little stunned. "What the hell is he talking about? He can't turn himself in!"

"Ms. Black," Alfred said, trying to get my attention, trying to make me calm down.

But I wasn't having any of it. "IS HE INSANE? HE CAN'T GIVE UP! HE'S BATMAN!"

"Ms. Black!"

I yanked the headset off my head and stomped away from the desk.

"Eleanor!"

I stopped and turned to look at Alfred. I was crying again, but they were tears of anger. I could feel my face flushing and I was on the edge of exploding. "What?" I snapped, barely containing myself.

"Rachel is at the penthouse, and Master Bruce is on his way back here to change and then he's going to see her."

The information was so shocking that it knocked some of the anger from me. "What?"

"Rachel just called and told me she was at the penthouse. Harvey called her to warn her and told her to get somewhere safe. Bruce is going to see her after he changes."

I blinked, chucked my bag back into the chair and walked back to the desk. I leaned forward on my hands, hanging my head. It was too much, too much... Rachel wanted Bruce to give up Batman, and he was. She said she's wait for him until he was no longer Batman, and that was going to happen. He was about to get Rachel, and where would that leave me? Nowhere. I wouldn't be Batman's assistant, and I'm sure that he wouldn't want to keep me around as his assistant either.

I was aware that to be thinking about that while the Joker was still terrorizing Gotham was incredibly selfish, but I couldn't help it.

The Tumbler roared into the bunker and my anger flared hot. I crossed the room, ignoring Alfred as I moved, and was waiting when Bruce jumped out of the car. He brushed right passed me and didn't even look at me.

"What the hell are you thinking?"

He started changing. I didn't care.

"You can't just give it up! Gotham needs Batman! We all need Batman! You can't give up what you've done because you want to be with Rachel!"

He stiffened, but he didn't say anything.

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS!"

Bruce rounded on me, his face screwed up in anger. "This isn't your decision," he whispered harshly.

I took a step back, blinked and then growled and left before the tears could start falling again. I shot him the meanest glare I could, grabbed my bag and stormed out of the bunker. I didn't care about the stuff I was leaving there and I didn't care about the stuff I'd left at the penthouse. I was going home because right then I couldn't look at Bruce.

I'd never been so mad in my life.

Author's Note.

So dude, I command you to go watch Batman: Under the Red Hood, because man, it rules. The voice cast is amazing, even though hearing Jensen just makes me think of Dean from Supernatural, but Bruce Greenwood kind pwned as Batman, and that kind of rules because he's also Captain Pike from the new Star Trek. Dude, just go watch it, m'kay? Oh, and Neil Patrick Harris as Nightwing was a phenomenal choice and he has the best lines in the movie.

And Black Mask is a spaz.

And why does Ras Al'Ghul always wear frilly shirts in the comics and the animated shows?

Next Chapter: Hell Hath No Fury Like Two Women Scorned.