Authors Note: OK! OK! I guess I have to apologise for the comment made about Tim in the last authors note, but let me explain! I wasn't trying to be all mean and bitchy… he's one of my favourite characters, and I'm gonna risk more angry reviews, but he's also the best damn Robin there was…I mean, Stephanie Brown doesn't even need mentioning and Dick I just plain didn't like as Robin, and well Jason I know nothing about except his death, and now, him being alive again… and depending on the day and therefore my mood, Tim's also my favourite Titan, but well…that changes too frequently, cos there's Ravager, and Wonder Girl, and Cyborg… too many cool ones to really choose from. So if any of you got annoyed at my little 'sissy' comment about Tim in my last authors note… SORRY! IT WAS A JOKE! But to the reviewer who was offended, thank you very much for your nice comments before that! And don't worry, in this story he will come off much more favourably then you might think…it's Dick that gets the bad press. :P

STORY STORY STORY

"Miss Morgan?" the mild, friendly voice sounded again. "I'm Bruce Wayne. Can I come in?"

I stayed where I was, not daring to answer.

After a few, long moments I heard his voice again, this time softer, to someone besides him, it seemed.

"She is in there, right?"

There were laughs, and I rolled my eyes. This guy was a charmer.

I stomped over to the door, and slid the chain to the side, unlocking the dead lock and throwing the door open, glaring. Flash bulbs went off as I reached in and pulled the well dressed, handsome man from the TV inside, before slamming the door shut again, throwing all the locks back into place.

"Why the hell are you here?" I snapped, not allowing him time to recover from my manhandling him inside.

"Well," he said mildly. "That wasn't the welcome I was hoping for."

I narrowed my eyes, then stormed over the TV and turned it on, gesturing to the new 'breaking footage' of Bruce Wayne entering the house of his estranged daughter.

"Well, you know what, 'Mr. Wayne'," I snarled. "That," I pointed to the screen, "wasn't the wake up I was hoping for."

He looked regretful, clasping his hands behind his back. "I'm sorry, Eliz-, Miss Morgan." He corrected hastily.

That's right, I thought, satisfied. I don't know you, you don't know me, so don't act like it.

"Truth be told," he continued, scratching his head. "I didn't even know about this until last night."

I looked up at him, incredulously. "You're kidding."

"No." he said, his eyes down cast, his accent sounding strange to me. But hey, mine probably did too, to him. "I was about to go out to a…function, but my adoptive son, Tim, showed me the news. I swear to you, Miss Morgan, I did not know about anything before then."

I studied him. For all intents and purposes he was looking truthful. But for all intents and purposes he had left me alone for the twenty years of my life, including when my mother had died. So I wasn't going to play happy families just yet.

"So where does this leave us?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Are you going to suddenly offer to be my 'daddy'? Are we going to try to play happy family?"

"Or," I started to pace, unable to help it. "Are you just here to tell me you don't want any part in this? Cos," I turned to him, a fed up expression on my face. "That whole media circus outside is all your fault. Just so you know."

He blinked at me. I don't think he'd been expecting that.

"I hardly think that's fair," he began with difficulty, but I cut him off from continuing.

"Why not?" I challenged. "Why isn't that fair? I hardly think any of those…vultures, out there would give a damn about me finding an estranged father if he wasn't rich billionaire Bruce Wayne. So tell me, Mr. Wayne, why you think none of this, including having sex with my mother, her giving birth to me, and then you having nothing to do with me, isn't your fault."

He looked regretful, I have to say, but I didn't give him a chance to say anything. I figured whatever he'd have to say could have been said in the twenty years before I found out on the news that he was my father.

"But wait," I laughed humourlessly. "You had no idea!" I mocked. "Let me guess. It was a one night stand. Wow, Bruce, and I thought your parents would have taught you better then to sleep with strange women."

He grew angry so suddenly it almost made me jump back.

"My mother and father died when I was eight." He said. "Your grandparents didn't have a chance to teach me anything."

"Just wait a minute!" I spun around, shoving a finger in his chest. "We don't even know whether its true. All I've heard is what I've seen on the E! news. Not necessarily solid evidence Brucie!"

"You think I haven't already gone into that?" he asked softly. "I've had enough unfounded rumours circulated about me to be wary of such things. I've had your blood work analysed from hospital records in relation to my own. It was positive. You're my daughter. I didn't know. I'm sorry."

I swallowed, turning to the closed curtains, wishing I could get some air into the apartment.

"Well, you work fast." Immediately after I said it I wished I hadn't. was that all I could think of to say? You work fast? Couldn't I think of anything else to say? Anything important? Profound?

"I have good friends." Bruce said vaguely, but I didn't care. He could hide what he wanted.

"And there's no chance your 'friend' is wrong?" I asked finally, staring at the ground.

"Very little." Bruce agreed, and I sat down suddenly, leaning against the wall and scrubbing my face tiredly. Of course this had to happen before my big test tomorrow. Damn desire for a university degree.

But not being able to leave the house should be able to get me out of the exam. Hopefully.

"Fantastic." I said, looking up through my fingers. "So what's going to happen now?"

He sat down on the other side of the room, not too far away, but far enough that I didn't feel crowded.

"Well," he said, looking at me intently. "I was hoping we could get to know each other. And we need to do something about the media out there. You can't live your life with them dogging your doorstep."

I snorted. I could barely live with the press being out there for four hours so far. I sooo wasn't going to do it on a longer term.

"So what?" I asked. "We hole up here and get to know each other when those wanker's outside are probably sneaking microphones under the doors as we speak? Cos I so don't want to see that in the papers."

"I had something else in mind." Bruce smiled, and I was immediately suspicious. Anyone that looked that smug when they grinned had to be up to something. Especially rich billionaires. I just couldn't seem to get over that fact. It probably didn't help that that seemed to be the main reason the press was camping outside my door.

"What?" I asked, frowning.

He stood, and walked over to me to hold out his hand. His brown hair shining in the light twisted in my stomach. It was my shade of brown. And my nose. I looked down, but his hand still appeared in my vision, taking mine and pulling me up to stand.

"Pack a bag." He said gently, letting go of my hand, pushing me towards the mess that was my bedroom.

I bit my lip, looking back at him, unsure. Was I really going to do this? Go…somewhere, with someone I didn't know? Just because he and about a million other people said he was my father? Just because he had my hair, and my nose?

I sighed, before stepping into my room and closing my door. Time to get packing.

I stepped out with a duffle bag. I didn't bother with many clothes. A couple of pairs of jeans, undies, bras, socks, and about five different t shirts. I didn't know how long I was going to be, but however long it was I was sure I'd be able to wash my clothes. The rest of the substantial bag was filled with a couple of books, my laptop, iPod, and toiletries. As well as my photo album. I don't know why, but with this new development in my life I didn't want to part with my photo's of my mother. Even if she had left me with this monumental problem.

"I'm ready." I said softly, and Bruce looked up from where he was studying the picture on the wall. It was of me and some friends from uni, standing outside a nightclub in Brisbane's CBD, grinning madly. It had been my eighteenth birthday, and I'd been thrilled to go to my first nightclub. As the youngest in my little clique, I'd been the last to be initiated in this last rite of passage.

I walked up to him, staring at the photo there, remembering back to the more carefree days of my life, before university had started. I gulped past the lump in my throat. The next day Mum had died. I reached over to finger the wood on the photo frame, before grabbing it and stuffing it into my duffle bag.

Now I was ready.

"How are we doing this?" I asked briskly, walking towards the door.

Bruce stopped me with a firm hand on my arm.

"I was thinking first one of us creates a diversion." He said, smiling and holding up a spare duffle I kept in the linen cabinet. It was full.

"Sheets." He explained. "If we throw it out the window they'll all think we're going out that way. Most of the reporters will be out of the way of the door."

I looked at him, frowning. We were going to make a run for it? That was his plan? I sighed. I guess it was a better plan than any I had.

"Be ready by the door." He said, grinning, and I rolled my eyes.

"You do this often?" I said dryly, and he just shrugged.

"Often enough."

I hefted my bag onto my shoulder more securely, and went to the door, creeping quietly in case the people heard me.

This so wouldn't go good if they didn't take the bait. And I didn't want to have to fight my way out. No thank you.

There was the sound of the window opening, then excited yells as the duffel bag landed heavily on the ground and the rushing of foot steps away from the door. It worked! I could not believe that that simple plan had worked.

Then Bruce was grabbing me by the arm and flinging the door open as silently as he could, tugging me through it. Then we were running down the drive way towards the black Mercedes – parked illegally over the entrance of the driveway, mind you – and onwards to hopefully freedom.

Bruce pulled a key fob out of his jacket pocket, and the car beeped unlocked. We were almost there when the shout of a reporter sounded, and suddenly there were flash bulbs going off behind us, and running feet following us. Bruce tugged me faster, and then I was flinging the passenger side door open, jumping in and closing the door, locking it as Bruce slid over the bonnet of the car in his expensive suit, wrenching the drivers side door open and turning the key in the car in one smooth motion.

Cameras were flashing in my face by this time, but then Bruce was pulling out of the make shift park, ramming the car into reverse, then slamming the brakes on and punching his foot down on the accelerator.

Then we were free, the reporters lost in the dust.

We were driving down the highway to the airport. Bruce had already called ahead and had the pilot prep his private jet. Private jet? I was dumbfounded. This guy, my supposed father, had a private jet?

On the way we didn't speak. Instead I looked out at the outer suburb scenery I had seen time and time again.

I couldn't find anything to say, and after the first couple of questions that had fallen dead upon delivery Bruce had stopped trying.

Finally when I saw the airport I straightened in my seat, unconsciously pulling the bag closer to me.

"Are we going to Gotham?" I asked quietly, and Bruce nodded.

"We are." He agreed. "But we're taking a slight detour. I'm dropping the plane off in Metropolis, where Alfred will pick us up in a car."

"Alfred?" I asked, biting my lip.

"My butler." Bruce said wryly. "Though he's more like family then anything."

I stared at him, not believing it. His butler? He had a butler?!

"Right, so road trip." I said bracingly, freeing my lip before it started bleeding.

Bruce smiled softly. "Sort of."

I sighed and closed my eyes, resting my head against the leather head rest. My headache was back and as fierce as before.

"Something the matter?" Bruce asked, but I shook my head. It was just a headache. I would deal.

But I had the feeling it was going to get a whole lot worse in the next couple of days then better.

So, there it is…any reviews or comments to make it better would be appreciated!