A/N: Well, I finished this chapter a lot faster than I thought I would. I hope you enjoy it, and due to tremendous support, I will continue! All the usual disclaimers apply.


Isabella didn't have to wait long before both Lorenzo and Hannah, the sweet old Jewish woman that ran the café side of Lorenzo's, began shrieking at her.

"Bruce Wayne?! Have you gone crazy?!"

"Piccolo manca, do you really want to do this?" Isabella held up her hands at the two, begging peace.

"First of all, no I am not crazy Hannah, and secondly, Bruce assured me this was not a pity date. He said I was an excellent conversationalist, and he wanted to see me again. Now then, I believe it is time for me to head out. I promised my cousins I would join them at the park for the morning. I will see you both soon. Ciao, amici." she called, swinging her cane as she hurried out of the café. She walked down the street, taking a deep breath of the fresh early summer air. School would be out in two weeks, and she brightened at the thought, if only to escape Steven for a few months. She had memorized the way to the park from Lorenzo's, and never got turned around.

She knew she had arrived at the park when she heard the musical sound of laughing children and caught the scent of fresh cut grass and the thousands of flowers planted along the paths of the park. Isabella headed for the sounds of children playing and easily caught the sound of her Aunt Barbra calling to the children.

"Hi, Aunt Barb." she called, and she heard her aunt's clothes rustle as the older woman shifted to face her blind niece.

"Izzy, you made it. How's the school?" she asked pleasantly. Isabella moved to the bench and allowed her aunt to kiss her cheek.

"The school's fine. The dean even promised a spot to both Jimmy and Barbie if they want it when they hit high school." she replied with a smile. Aunt Barb's laugh was a bit worn, like sandpaper on a piece of wood.

"Well, that's all well and good, but I think I will give the children the choice when they are older." she replied.

"I understand. They are terribly well adjusted children, and I am sure they will continue to be so." Isabella replied. Just then, the high voices of her cousins roared out as they caught sight of her.

"Izzy, Izzy! You made it!" little Barbara Gordon cried, and her light footsteps hurried from the playground and a small form slammed into Isabella, who yelped in surprise, laughing as her cousin sat back.

"Hello, Barbie. How are you?" Isabella asked, smoothing the girls hair back from her face. Barbie was panting from playing and running to her cousin, and Isabella's fingers swept over her face gently as she tried to discern how much the child had changed since she had last done so.

"I'm okay. I've grown another two inches, and Mommy said I get to start gymnastics in the fall!" the young girl was practically bouncing with excitement. Isabella's sharp hearing picked up the more sedate steps of Jimmy Gordon. Isabella offered the boy a warm smile.

"Hey, Jimmy, how are you?" she asked. The young boy came forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek, and Isabella caught the smell of dirt and sun on the boy.

"I'm okay. Can we take our walk now?" he asked. Isabella nodded and collapsed her cane, settling her hand onto Jimmy's shoulder.

Ever since the events surrounding Harvey Dent's death, Jimmy had been very quiet, and refused to talk to his parents about anything. When Isabella had heard this, she had come by and asked Jimmy to help her walk through the park. Now, it became a weekly event, weather permitting. They would meet on Saturday morning, and Jimmy would lead his older cousin along the paths while they talked.

"Are you ready for summer vacation?" she asked after they had been walking for a few minutes. She felt him nod, but squeezed his shoulder to remind him she could not see the action.

"Yeah, but I'm gonna miss my friends. They are all going to summer camps, but we have to stay here. Dad promised to take some time off though, so I'm looking forward to that. Maybe we can go to the amusement park." he replied, and Isabella grinned. She knew that Jimmy really wanted to go and ride the roller coasters, and being nearly twelve, he felt he was old enough.

"I'm sure that Uncle Jim would love to take you guys to the amusement park this summer. Make sure he wins a monkey for me." she said. Jimmy laughed a little, and they paused on the path. Isabella turned to face her young cousin, feeling he was about to tell her something important.

"Izzy, have you ever had to keep something a secret, but the secret was making something bad happen to somebody who didn't deserve it?" he asked. Isabella frowned in thought.

"Who made you keep a secret that would hurt people?" she asked. Jimmy shifted under her hand, and she heard his hair sweep over his eyes.

"Dad did. He said it was necessary. That Gotham needed him to be a villain, so that Mr. Dent's reputation wouldn't be ruined because of what the Joker did to him." he whispered, making Isabella's blood run cold. Rachel Dawes had been a good friend of hers, and she had mourned her friend's death, as well as the death of Harvey Dent, a man she had only met once or twice. The first time, she had disliked him simply because he was IA. The second time, she had been introduced to him by Rachel, and the three of them had talked about blindness and law for hours.

"What did your dad want you to keep a secret?" she whispered back, kneeling down to his level. Jimmy leaned forward, pressing his hands near her ear.

"Batman didn't kill those policeman. Mr. Dent did it. He even tried to kill me, but Batman saved me. He tried to save Mr. Dent too, but he fell and died. Batman told Dad to blame him. He said that Mr. Dent's work was too important. Dad told me that Batman would be the villain like we needed him to be, so that Mr. Dent would be remembered as a white knight for Gotham. I just don't think it's right. Batman's a good guy, why do we have to say he killed those people?" the young boy's voice hitched at the end, and Isabella reached up to feel tears on his cheek. She pulled the boy into a hug, letting him cry about the injustice he was being forced to uphold. The woman's mind was reeling.

She had always believed that Batman had been set up as a fall guy, but she had assumed the mob had done it. She would never had suspected her uncle or even the vigilante himself. Once Jimmy had calmed down, and dried his tears, they continued their walk, talking about school, and what Jimmy should expect when he started middle school the next year. When they reached the playground where the other two Gordon women were waiting, Isabella hugged Jimmy tightly.

"Don't worry about your secret. I'll see what I can do." she promised, and felt Jimmy nod against her hair.

"Okay." he replied.

"Izzy, would you like to join us for lunch? Jim is at work, so it'll just be the four of us." Barb offered. Isabella shook her head.

"Thanks for the offer, but I have a few things to do this afternoon, and I have a date tonight." she replied, already heading for the street where she hailed a cab for city hall.

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Isabella stalked into her Uncle Jim's office, a frown firmly set on her face. She caught the scent of stale coffee, and also a trace of tamales.

"Hello, Mayor. I need to speak to my uncle alone." she said. She heard the mayor shift in his seat.

"How do you do that?" Mayor Garcia asked, seemingly impressed.

"I can smell Rosa's tamales. She spent the whole night cooking, and the smell is all over your clothes. Please tell her they are still the best I have ever tried." Isabella replied.

"She does that." Jim said, amusement and smug pride in his tone. The mayor bid his goodbyes and left the office. Isabella waited until the door firmly latched before she tore into her uncle.

"Do you have any idea what your son has been going through?" she snapped. She sensed that Jim had gone very still.

"What's wrong?" he asked, obviously concerned. Isabella sat down, scrubbing a hand over her face.

"Uncle Jim, Jimmy is very young, and he looks to you to learn a sense of morality and justice. I know that he believes that people should always be held accountable for their actions. So when you and Batman tell him that the whole city must believe that Batman is a vicious killer, and Harvey Dent is a saint, right after Dent held a gun to his eleven year old head, he's going to be confused." she snarled. Her uncle let out a breath and sat down, his chair squeaking as he settled down.

"It was not really my idea to blame Batman. He said it was the only way to keep all the people Dent put away in jail." he explained, his voice weary, worn down.

"That sounds like utter bullshit. After what happened to Harvey, losing Rachel, and the damage to his face, I would honestly be surprised if he didn't snap. And since that happened in the last day of his life, his cases were completely safe. Sure the DA's office would get a few appeals because of the events, but I know Rachel, and she would have backed up all their cases so that prosecutorial error could not be a factor in appeals. Uncle Jim, you have to realize that keeping this secret is doing more harm than good, for your son and for you. I swear you sound like you have aged ten years in the last six months." she said. She heard a soft chuckle from her uncle and she imagined her was running his hand over his hair.

"You may be right, but it is a lot harder to prove a vigilante's innocence when the entire police department is looking for him for the murder of several police officers." he said. Isabella stood up and moved to the door, pausing to throw one last comment over her shoulder.

"Almost makes you wish you had some sway with the police commissioner." she said, and headed out the door. As she made her way to the street, she heard several people clamoring off to one side of her.

"They can't be serious. How the hell did he escape?"

"You're kidding right? This guy blew up a hospital, and tried to blow up two ferries filled with people."

"Still, why wasn't he in solitary confinement or something?"

"They don't exactly have solitary in Arkham." Isabella was so intent on hearing the conversation, she didn't notice when someone slammed into her.

"Sorry, I wasn't paying attention." she said. The figure before her was tall, muscular, but thin. She caught the scent of greasepaint, as well as some kind of hair product, all under the overpowering smell of unwashed male.

"Not a problem, my little chickadee. Say, um, did you hear that the Joker escaped from Arkham?" he asked, and Isabella fought off a little shiver at the sound of his voice. He sounded like he was trying very hard not to laugh at something he found very funny, and at the same time his voice held a sinister note.

"Is that what everyone is talking about?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant. The man before her didn't respond, and she realized that she had lucked out and met his eyes with her own. After a moment, she blinked and turned away, holding out a hand to hail a cab. Apparently the man had moved on, because the unpleasant blend of smells had faded. When she heard the cab stop in front of her, she climbed in and gave her address, trying to ignore the chills that went up her spine when she thought of the man's voice.

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Later that night, Isabella sat in her apartment, poring over her clothes. She usually never gave much thought to her clothes. Since she couldn't see what they looked like, she had friends and family help her organize her closet so she would know what color each item was just by it's placement. After running her fingers over the hangers for the fourth time, she settled on a summer dress with an off the shoulder design, and slid a pair of matching ballet flats on her feet. Even though she was rather short at 5'3", she detested wearing heels, and avoided them whenever possible. A lace shawl went around her arms, and she headed for the door just as her bell rang. She opened the door and was greeted by the scent of sandalwood, drawing a smile to her lips.

"You look beautiful." he said.

"I'll take your word for it." she teased, and he chuckled, a rich sound that wrapped itself around her like a blanket. She smiled wider as she took his arm, and allowed him to lead her out to his car. When she slid into the soft leather seat, she ran her hands along the dashboard, trying to find some kind of emblem to tell her what kind of car they were in.

"I thought we'd go casual, so I took the BMW." he said after a moment, and Isabella blushed as she realized he knew what she was doing.

"BMW is casual? I'm almost afraid to ask what kind of car you drive when you want to impress someone." she quipped.

"It depends on the person I'm trying to impress." he easily replied, starting the engine and pulling into traffic. The drive was fairly relaxed, and when they arrived at the restaurant, Isabella was very much at ease with Bruce. He led her through a pair of doors, and she heard muted conversation under the mellow jazz band that played. Bruce spoke to the hostess for a moment, and then gently led Isabella to a table in the back. The hostess handed them menus, and Isabella laid hers down, crinkling her nose at the overpowering smell of the woman's perfume. When the scent drifted away, she shifted in her chair, trying to discern what kind of food was offered by the smells around her.

"Have you ever been to Antonio's?" Bruce asked, and Isabella turned her head back to her date.

"I'm a glorified teacher at Gotham Prep. I can't afford Antonio's." she replied calmly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. The lasagna is wonderful, but I am partial to the seafood alfredo. It's one of the best dishes." he said. Isabella smiled gently at him.

"I think I'll trust your recommendations." she said. When the waiter came back, Bruce ordered for both of them, and then they began to talk. She told him a little of her history, and he told her about how Alfred had raised him after his parents had died. They talked about history, music, anything and everything. Isabella told him of her perspective on things that he looked at every day, and he listened raptly as she described how she used her hearing and her fingers to see the everyday things that most people took for granted. When dessert finally came around, she found herself talking about the first time she had walked barefoot in the grass, and paused when she realized Bruce had hardly said a word since she started.

"Is everything alright?" she asked, a little uncertainly. She felt his hand grasp hers gently.

"Everything's fine. I just got a little lost in your story. The way you describe things makes me feel like I'm experiencing them all over again." he explained. Isabella felt her cheeks redden at the compliment.

"Thank you, Bruce. Most people never take the time to know the person I am. They just see a blind woman, and don't bother going any deeper than that. The worst thing anybody can do is pity me. I think normal people are the ones missing out. When I go outside, I see more than the people who walk around me do. I hear the sounds of the city around me, and I can feel the sun on my face. I smell the shops I walk past, and I hear the children that play in the park. Normal people never pay attention to the little things around them. For me, the little things like a passing scent, a different sound, or a gentle touch." she said. When she finished speaking, she realized that Bruce was still gently holding her hand. After a moment, he stood and pulled her gently to her feet.

"May I have this dance?" he whispered in her ear, his velvet voice sending little trills down her spine. She nodded, not trusting her voice, and let Bruce guide her onto the dance floor. One of his hands rested at the small of her back, and the other held her hand close to his chest. They moved in lazy circles on the dance floor, and Isabella felt her heart hammering in her chest. She let her eyes slide closed as she let the music wash over her, feeling her skin warm where Bruce touched her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she mused over what her uncle would say if he knew she was dancing with the famous Bruce Wayne. All to quickly for her tastes, the song ended, and Bruce led her out of the restaurant. As they approached his car, she caught the sound of cameras going off a fair distance away.

"The paparazzi are here." she whispered. Bruce paused, apparently looking around.

"You're right. C'mon, let's get you home." he said, and helped her into the car. The ride back to her apartment was filled with an easy silence, and when they reached her building, she let Bruce help her from the car and to her door.

"Thank you for dinner. I haven't enjoyed a date that much in a very long time." she said, smiling.

"I'm glad." he replied. She felt him step closer, and the smell of sandalwood surrounded her. She tilted her head up and slowly brought her hand up, her fingers brushing his chin, and sweeping higher along his jaw line. Her fingers slid into his silky hair as he bent his head to press his lips to hers. The kiss was gentle, almost hesitant, and Isabella returned it, curling her fingers around his neck. After a moment, they pulled apart, breathing heavily.

"Goodnight, Bruce." she whispered, raising on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. She felt him smile against her skin as he returned the kiss.

"Goodnight, Isabella." he breathed, sending goose bumps along her skin. She entered her apartment with a wide smile on her face, Bruce's scent still lingering on her skin.

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The next day, Isabella awoke to the sound of someone knocking on her door. Plucking her robe off a side chair, she pulled it on and went to her front door.

"Who is it?" she called, one hand on the security chain.

"Iz, it's Uncle Jim. We need to talk." the familiar voice called through the door. Isabella freed the locks and opened the door, heading for the kitchen to make coffee.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, brow furrowed as she tried to think of what would make her uncle so upset on a Sunday morning.

"I've been tied up at work all night with the Joker having escaped from Arkham yesterday, and going over our conversation, so imagine my surprise when one of my detectives shows me a copy of the Post with a front page shot of you in Bruce Wayne's arms!" he snapped. Isabella flushed crimson as she realized the reason for her uncle's visit was personal. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face him, holding up a cup of coffee like a shield.

"To be perfectly frank, Uncle Jim, I believe I am allowed to date whomever I want. I am after all 28." she said, holding out the mug. Her uncle took the cup from her hands, and held her fingers in his hands.

"I'm not angry. I just hope you know what you're getting into." he said. Isabella moved forward and into her uncle's embrace.

"Don't worry about me Uncle Jim. I can take care of myself. It was one date. I wouldn't be surprised if I don't hear from him again for a while." she soothed. Just then, her doorbell rang again. Isabella moved to the door slowly, and pulled it open cautiously. As soon as the door opened, she was surprised by the heady scent of orchids and lilacs. Stunned, she turned her head back to her uncle, who took the vase from the delivery boy and signed for the flowers. After a moment, he pressed a card into her hand.

"I think you spoke to soon, Iz." he said in that amused tone. Isabella ran her fingers over the card and smiled. It was in Braille.

'Because a unique woman deserves more than roses. Bruce'


A/N: Well? Gimmie some reviews, and I might get the next chapter up just as fast! Also, did you spot the little intro I slipped in there? I'm sure you did!