A/N - This one is a little shorter than my usual, but you guys were begging. :) I hope you enjoy. For those wanting to see Emily kick some arse...it's coming. The best is yet to come.

Thank you to all those who reviewed, favourited, alerted and messaged me. I am beyond humbled by the comments. I'm almost afraid to disappoint now. :S I hope to get the next chapter out soon. I'm already hashing it out.

Bruce waited, holding the styrofoam coffee cup between his hands. It had long gone cold and he had barely touched it as he sat waiting in the room alone. He had lost track of time, knowing only that he had been there all night and it had to be near morning.

After Gordon insisted that Bruce come with him to the police station for questioning, he wasn't expecting that he would be waiting as long as he had been. He soon found himself sitting alone inside an interrogation room, one way mirrors all around him. He could feel the eyes on him. After another ten minutes, Bruce began to pace around the room, like a caged animal. His daughter was out there and here he was trapped in this room.

Finally, the door opened and Gordon walked in.

"Sorry for taking so long to get to you, Mr. Wayne," Gordon said, causing Bruce to turn. "As you can imagine, we've been busy with what happened at your place and the explosion in the city. I do have some questions that I need to ask you."

Gordon gestured to the table, insisting that Bruce sat down. Sighing, he sat down.

Bruce watched as Gordon opened a file in front of him. He glanced up from the file at the styrofoam cup between Bruce's hands.

"Would you like me to get another cup for you?"

"Have you found my daughter?"

Gordon cleared his throat before looking up at Bruce.

"I have some of my top investigators working on it," he replied. "If there is anything you can tell us or where you were when your penthouse exploded, that would be helpful."

Bruce sat back in his chair and looked over at the mirrors. Gordon noticed.

"It's just you and me."

Bruce smiled curtly. He knew Gordon well enough to know when the man was lying, and this was one of those times.

"Joker made a threat against me and decided it would be beneficial to take it out on my loved ones," Bruce told him flatly.

Gordon nodded, aware of the threat.

"We have enough witnesses and evidence to confirm that your daughter's kidnapping is linked to the Joker. I understand that you were in downtown Gotham earlier tonight. Can you tell me where you were at the time of the explosion?

"I was out."

"Where?" Gordon pressed.

To meet with you.

Bruce sighed in frustration.

"Out!" he stated. "Emily and I went to the opening fo the casino and then we went to my penthouse apartment. I went out alone for some fresh air and I was planning on returning within the hour." He paused, looking at the dark coffee in his hands. "I saw the penthouse in flames. The police had blocked the streets and I couldn't get through. I forced myself to head home knowing that there would be no way anyone could survive what just happened. My mind was on Clara, so I returned home."

"Did you and Dr. Tucker have an argument prior to you leaving?"

Bruce had an idea of what Gordon was speculating.

"What? No!"

"Has your relationship been strained in any way?"

"No!"

"I'm sorry for asking, but these are just routine questions," Gordon reminded him, noticing the growing hostility within the billionaire. "What were you doing at the penthouse?"

"Spending time together," he replied, softly. "We haven't had the chance to spend time together since Clara was born."

"How old is she?"

"About two months old."

Gordon nodded, recording it within the file before looking back up at Bruce.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mister Wayne," Gordon said softly.

Bruce bit the inside of his lip, not wanting to ask because he wasn't wanting to know the answer, but he had to know.

"Did you find her? Emily, I mean."

He had never seen the billionaire so vulnerable. It was as though he was once again looking at a newly orphaned Bruce Wayne. Gordon cleared his throat before closing the file in front of him and nodded.

"I got a call from the fire marshall that they found a body of a woman within the penthouse," he told him. "From what I was told, I can assure you that her death would have been swift."

Bruce folded his hands in front of him and nodded. The news was hard to swallow but at the same time, it gave him comfort.

"Mister Wayne, I'll do everything in my power to ensure the safe return of your daughter and bring the person responsible to justice."

Bruce nodded silently as they both stood up and walked towards the door. Gordon opened the door, allowing Bruce to walk out first. The two men walked side by side, silently down the hallway back towards the front lobby.

They heard them first - the media. They had camped out front, knowing that Bruce Wayne was inside being questioned in regards to the death of his fiance. When Gordon saw them, he stopped and put his arm out, alerting Bruce.

But it was too late. Bruce's name was called out by dozens of reporters.

"This way," Gordon said, gesturing Bruce to follow him. He led him to his office and closed the door behind them. Gordon walked around his desk and picked up the phone receiver.

"Get some officers to the front doors!" he called out over the phone. "It's a zoo out front and I have to get someone out of this building without being harassed by those damn reporters."

Bruce reached into his pocket and fingered the small listening device in his hand. He slid his hand out of his pocket and rested it against Gordon's desk as the man spoke on the phone.

Gordon paused and nodded.

"Well get it done! I want them gone by the time I return."

With an aggravated sigh, he hung up and grabbed his own keys off the desk and walked to the door.

"Follow me," Gordon said to Bruce, leading the way out of his office and towards the back of the station.

Bruce followed and watched as Gordon pushed open a heavy door with huge block letters stating 'Authorized personnel only'. A half dozen police cruisers along with cars of various colours and makes, sat in the large covered parking garage. Gordon walked to the first car, a grey old Grand Marquis. Bruce walked around the car and got into the passenger seat.

Gordon pulled the ice scraper, fast food restaurants paper bag and handful of old store receipts from Bruce's feet and dropped them in the back.

"Excuse the mess," Gordon said, before he turned on the car. "I had the kids over for the weekend and they made a mess of the car."

A small smile pulled at Bruce's lips as they made their way out of the parking garage.

"Don't worry about it," he said, glancing towards the front of the police building as officers were attempting to dissuade the media away from the doors. "I appreciate the ride."

Gordon noticed the crowd and shook his head as they pulled out into traffic, heading towards Wayne Manor.

"I don't know how you handle things like that," Gordon said, gesturing to the reporters outside of the police building.

"I've learned to deal with it."

Gordon nodded. "I guess you'd have to."

Most of the ride was made in silence. Gordon would glance over at Bruce as they rode together. He noted how the man's mind seemed to be miles away. He found himself almost staring at Bruce for a short time as they drove. The way his eyes had their intense focus and seriousness of his face; it was nothing like the photo's he had seen of the playboy beside him. He almost seemed normal. He was someone who had endured yet another hardship in their life. Gordon was certain that most of Gotham would never be able to understand the pain that Bruce Wayne had lived through. Tragedy seemed to follow him.

With the impending sun just over the horizon, the Grand Marquis pulled into the Wayne Manor property and followed the drive to the front door. There was no longer any indication of the police presence from earlier that night. The front door was closed and any broken windows had been firmly covered with a panel of plywood.

When the car finally stopped in the driveway, Bruce undid his seat belt and opened the door. He paused before climbing out.

"Thank you Commissioner," he said, holding out his hand towards the man. Gordon simply shook his.

"You're welcome, Mr. Wayne."

A small smile, one of the few that evening, graced Bruce's features.

"You're a good cop," he said, pausing once again. "Call me Bruce."

Without saying any more, Bruce stepped out of the car and walked towards the front door.

Gordon watched, before putting the car into drive.

You're a good cop.

The words Bruce said seemed like they came from a dream he once had. He was certain that he had heard them - even the same tone of voice. Shaking his head, he shook it off.

He sighed and drove back up the drive and back into the city.

Emily walked as fast as she was pulled along. Not being able to see where she was going caused her to stumble a few times. A heavy bag rested over her head. Having her wrists tied behind her didn't help either. Finally, she was pushed down into a chair. Emily could voices speaking around her.

"He wants her alive for some reason," someone said.

"He only said alive, not untouched."

Emily could hear her heart pumping in her ears as her breathing also increased ten fold. As silently and discreetly as possible, she fumbled with the restraints around her wrist.

"Let's flip for it."

She heard a man chuckle deeply.

"Sounds good to me."

From under the heavy bag on her head, she heard a clink of a coin dropping to the ground.

"Damn it!" a man exclaimed, while another gave a throaty laugh.

"Stand aside. I'll show you how it's really done."

Without warning, Emily felt herself being pulled up off the chair and pushed to the ground. Her arms hit the ground behind her and she gasped, knowing that her skin bruised with the contact. Not being able to see what was going on was unnerving.

She suddenly felt a firm arm under her chin, pinning her down while another hand attempted to pull at her jogging pants. Feeling a sudden dose of adrenaline kick into her body, Emily quickly raised her knee and felt it connect with the man's chest. He gave out a yell and sat up, cursing. Emily swung her legs up and felt them wrap around the man's neck. In a swift motion, she pulled the man to the floor and managed to use his weight to sit herself up on him. While she did, the bag on her head suddenly came off and she could once again see. The light in the room took a moment for her eyes to adjust.

It was too long. The other man came up beside her and grabbed onto her, pulling her to the floor with him and off the other man. Emily struggled as her hair was pulled, forcing her to stand.

"Dumb bitch!" the first man spat at her, as he raised his hand and slapped her across the face.

Emily cried out before she felt her cheeks being held between the thumb and forefinger of one of the men. Her eyes were shut as she braced herself for another hit to her face. Instead, it didn't come. She opened her eyes just as the man placed his lips on her own. Emily struggled with her wrists, determined to loosen them to push him away from her. The smell emanating from his breath nauseated her. She did one thing that she knew that she could do.

She bit him.

The man cried out and instinctively slapped her across the face, hard. Emily gasped, the sting continuing long after. She was pushed back down into the chair forcefully. She could hear a man chuckle in the room.

"I knew that I'd like you," a man said. "You have some spunk in you. I like that."

Emily recognized the voice. She looked up and saw him.

"What do you want?" she managed to say.

"Oh, nothing," Joker replied. "At least not yet."

"If you're going to kill me, just kill me," Emily begged, as tears came to her eyes. She couldn't take another beating like that again.

Joker laughed.

"I'm not going to kill you," he told her. "You're one of my little worms on a hook. If I dangle you around enough long enough, I'll get my prized fish. And there is nothing more a fish loves than a worm."

"Bruce? If it's money you want..."

Joker smirked, his smile pulling at the scares on his face.

"Oh, I don't care about money. I want someone worth more than money. He's someone that you and I know very well."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Stop being so coy with me, Doctor Tucker," Joker stated articulating every word. He walked towards her. He took the knife from his pocket and suddenly pulled at her head, arching it back before placing the cool blade against her neck. He leaned in and spoke softly into her ear.

"Your baby's father," he whispered.

"Bruce is her father."

Joker licked his lips. This was proving more difficult than he anticipated.

"Everyone knows that," he whispered into her ear. "I'm talking about someone else. Batman."

Emily swallowed.

"I saw you and the Batman on the day your little...uh, bundle of joy was born and then miraculously you're seen with Wayne, who just happens to be alive," he said. "Now, what are the chances that they are one and the same, hmm?"

"You're crazy."

"Am I!?" Joker suddenly exclaimed, the sudden volume of his voice startling Emily.

"There is no possible way that Bruce Wayne could be Batman," Emily told him, breathlessly. "You're going after the wrong guy."

Joker let out a sigh, as he removed the blade from Emily's neck.

"We'll find out soon enough when your baby's father arrives. The thing cries so much, it's giving me a headache," Joker said, sliding his knife into his pocket. He pulled out a roll of duct tape from his pocket.

Emily felt a pit grow in her stomach as bile rose in her throat.

"Clara?"

Joker smirked and looked towards her.

"Is that her name? Beautiful, like her Mother."'

Emily's heart began pounding as she began to struggle on the chair to release her arms from behind her.

"I'm going to kill you," she spat angrily.

"You know, I'd love to watch you try," he quickly retorted with a chuckle, before pulling the end of the duct tape loose. He ripped a long piece and covered Emily's mouth, going from ear to ear with it.

"I suppose we will soon see," he told her, touching her duct taped cheek. He picked up the heavy bag from the floor and once again covered her head with it.

Emily didn't hear him speak again and instead heard the heavy pound of the door shutting. From behind the door, he could hear voices.

"Keep an eye on her," Joker told someone. "He'll come for her. If she starts crying, cover her mouth with the tape."

That homicidal psychopath had Clara.

Emily grunted and groaned as she pulled her wrists at the tight ropes twisted around them. She pulled until she was almost certain the ropes were digging into her skin. Her mind was on Clara.

As the sun rose over the horizon, a heavy mourning hung over Wayne Manor when Bruce returned from the MCU. Bill had been assisting Alfred in cleaning up the mess that had been left by Joker's men when Bruce walked in. Bruce didn't even acknowledge Alfred as he walked into the house. Alfred noticed the man and quietly excused himself from Bill to follow after Bruce.

"Can I get you something to eat, sir?"

"No, thank you, Alfred," Bruce replied, softly.

"I'd suggest that you rest," Alfred said delicately. "You have been up for over 30 hours now."

"I need to find Clara," Bruce said louder, as he walked into his study.

"Of course," Alfred said, pausing at the room's entrance. "But she would need a Father that is in his best condition to find her and frankly sir, you look like hell."

Bruce ran his hand over his face as he approached the piano.

"I can't afford to sleep," Bruce said, hearing his own voice tremble at the lack of sleep, the overwhelming sadness and stress. "I can't lose her too."

Alfred stood silently at the door, watching the man deal with having to endure the pain of another loss. He wondered how much a heart could take in its lifetime.

"I miss her, Alfred," Bruce admitted, feeling tears coming to his eyes. He closed his eyes. "I promised myself that I would keep her safe; keep them both safe. I broke that promise."

When he opened his eyes, they were watery and threatened to overflow. He turned to Alfred.

"Something to eat might be a good idea," he said, rubbing his hand against his nose. "And maybe some coffee."

Alfred nodded and a hint of a smile appeared on the man's features. "Very well, sir."

"I'll be down in the cave," Bruce said, before turning to press the odd combination of chords.

He didn't turn back to Alfred again and simply walked behind the hidden pathway behind the shelving unit as it was revealed.

It was a long day. After heading home to get a few hours of sleep, Gordon returned at dusk to finish the work he hadn't completed during the day. Gordon sat at his desk, filling out and reading reports on the explosion at the Wayne penthouse. He shook his head, reading the details of the explosion and where the body was found. Photo's filled the inside of the file, some overly detailed.

He was relieved when he heard a knock at the door, allowing him to pause from his task.

"Come in," he called out.

A young officer walked in.

"Officer Blake, what can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if we were going to run a child's disappearance alert to the media," he said.

"Soon," Gordon replied, glancing up at the clock. He knew how much time had passed since the kidnapping and the regulations regarding their amber alert system. "I'm wanting to keep the Wayne baby's disappearance out of the media for as long as possible. The man has already lost his girlfriend."

"Did he say anything when you questioned him?"

Gordon shook his head. "He's not a suspect in this case."

The phone on Gordon's desk suddenly rang and he reached forward to pick it up.

"Yeah?"

"Hello Commissioner."

Gordon stood up, instantly recognizing the voice. He stared at Blake and gestured to the phone and mouthed that he wanted it traced. Blake understood and quickly left the room.

"How did you get this number?"

"Oh, getting the police Commissioner's phone number is a piece of cake in this town," Joker drawled over the phone. "It's all in who you know."

"You have Bruce Wayne's daughter."

"Very observant, Gordon," Joker said, mockingly.

"Where is she?"

"Look, I know you're having your little officer drones trace the number I'm calling you on, and I know that it takes time, so I'm going to give you a strong hint. I want Batman to deliver 1 million dollars of Bruce Wayne's money to the amusement park by the pier. Make sure that he comes alone. He has until midnight or Mr. Wayne will truly be alone."

Before Gordon had a chance to speak again, the line went dead. He hung up the phone just as Blake returned.

"He's at the...

"...amusement park?"

Blake nodded, confused. "He told you?"

Gordon nodded.

"That doesn't sound like something the Joker would do," Blake stated.

"It's not," Gordon confirmed. "He's up to something."

Gordon walked around his desk towards Blake. "Gather the officers that you can trust to keep their mouths shut. Have them meet me in this office in a half hour."

Blake nodded and left the room. Gordon walked out after him and turned in the other direction. He headed for the roof.

Gordon stood on the rooftop in the shadow of the signal. He looked up at the night sky where the beacon shone on the lower level clouds. The weather looked dismal and the air was brisk.

He turned when he heard the sound of the rustling of fabric in the wind. On cue, Batman turned off the signal and walked over to Gordon.

He already knew what Gordon was going to say. Bruce had heard Gordon's side of the conversation with the Joker and then with one of his officers before the recording went completely silent. He was already partially dressed when the sensors within the cave registered that the signal had been turned on.

"The Joker is at the amusement park by the pier and he has Bruce Wayne's baby," Gordon told him. "He wants 1 million dollars of Mr. Wayne's money to be delivered by you otherwise...well, otherwise, things will go bad."

"That doesn't seem like the Joker."

"You're right, it doesn't."

"It's not the money that he wants. He's never been one for money or to be so carefree with revealing his location, unless it is to benefit him."

Gordon nodded.

"He wants you."