Disclaimer: I do not own Batman Begins or the series. Just writing for fun.

A/n: Here's another update. Thank you for the recent follows, favorites, and reviews! Enjoy!

Chapter 7. The Tumbler

"Well," I said with a loud resounding sigh that fell out of my lips. I clapped my hands together and looked at Bruce. We'd ended up on the floor at some point, but only scouring over a bunch of papers on Mr. Earle that made him out exactly who he was meant to be. Just CEO of Wayne Enterprises.

"Just as I suspect. A really old cranky CEO who never got out much in his life," I said, making him chuckle.

"Yeah, I guess."

"What were you hoping to find, Mr. Sherlock Holmes?" I asked.

He sighed. "I'm not sure. Do you think you can file these back for me?"

"Sure."

"Thank you."

"No problem," I said, watching him get up from the floor. He turned around and helped me up off the ground that made me almost collide into him. I looked up almost alarmed, but then tucked back a curl and smiled it off. I shook my head. "Look, I don't think Earle's that bad. Maybe he's just trying to do what your father thinks would've been best for the city, you know?"

Damn it. There was the old me again. That wanted to see the good in people so badly that the other part of me knew that most people these days lacked a great deal of empathy and I had to protect myself against that.

"What do you know about my father?" Bruce asked.

"Just that he was a good man. He cared a lot about Gotham. He really wanted to help," I added, tucking another piece of hair back behind my hair. "Anyway," I said and went off to picking up the rest of the papers that I would have to refile. It kept me busy till five and I was okay with that.

~*BB*~

The next day, Bruce returned with his hair slicked back, and in a pencil-suit and tie. Every time I saw him, I saw how good he looked and how interestingly he smelt, like a cross between nature and vanilla.

I was just tucking in a few papers into the files behind Mr. Fox when he came in with a smile on his face as Mr. Fox turned around to speak up to him, and lean back in his chair, taking his glasses off.

"What is it today, Mr. Wayne?" he asked. "More spelunking?"

"No. Today's base jumping," he replied. I arched an eyebrow, tilting the paper up to my lips slightly. What?

"Base jumping?" he asked doubtfully.

He nodded. I glanced between the two gentlemen.

"That like parachuting?" Fox asked as I looked at him curiously.

"Kinda," Bruce replied. "Do you have any light-weight fabrics?"

"You know, I think I've got just the thing," he said with a small glance in my direction.

I smiled slightly to myself before I filed the paper inside the drawer and headed towards him. I'd just finished packing these as well, to just be put away and rot in dust. Well, at least someone was using them, and if anything I wouldn't mind it if Bruce was the one to use them. Like I heard Fox said the other day, it was his and his father's.

I pulled out the big black box in one of the drawers and pulled it out onto the table for Mr. Fox to open it up. He unfolded it out and it spread across the table.

"It's called memory cloth," he explained as Bruce watched him unfold it out and show him the basics. "Notice anything?" he asked as Bruce touched it with his fingers, while Mr. Fox put on a glove. "Regularly flexible. But put a current through it," he ignited the glove as soon as his hand was closer to the fabric and it stood straight up. "Molecules realign, it becomes ridged."

"What kind of shapes can it make?" Bruce asked.

"We can get it to fit any structure based on ridged skeleton," Fox replied.

"Too expensive for the army?"

"I don't think they tried to market it to the billionaire spelunking crowd," he responded.

"Look, Mr. Fox…" Bruce began. "If you're uncomfortable…"

I glanced at him curiously at what he was about to say.

"Mr. Wayne if you don't want to tell me or Ms. Blake what exactly you are doing, when I'm asked I don't have to lie," he said. He then glanced at me and I nodded. "But don't think me as an idiot, that includes Ms. Blake too."

I swallowed hard at the mention but looked up into his eyes when I felt them on mine.

He glanced back at Mr. Fox, and then nodded. "Fair enough." He looked over at the corner, which had a tank tucked away behind more files I'd found and had to put away. "What's that?"

"Oh, the tumbler? You wouldn't be interested in that," Mr. Fox said, but it only made Bruce smile even more.

I sighed and stepped to the side as Mr. Fox went to pull it out with Bruce's help into the open garage clearing. They both climbed in while I stayed behind, watching Bruce try out the tank and drive around.

I held a tablet in my arm, and monitored the tumbler. It was mostly just used for towing cables, so I wasn't exactly sure what Bruce would be using it for other than a good joy ride. She was built for combat, and hasn't been used in a very long time. "Bruce, you're going way too fast."

"Relax, I know what I'm doing,"

"You do? Seems to me like you're just winging it."

He grinned and sped up further until he finally came to a full stop, at my two-tone shoes, and leaned back in his seat. I crossed my arms and looked into the car.

"So, what do you think?" Mr. Fox asked.

"Does it come in black?"

He climbed out of the car, and I helped him out of there. "Hey, so listen, I've been tailing a few…people…that hang around your old restaurant."

I scoffed. "You checked up on me?"

Bruce smiled. "You told me the restaurant, and I was looking into a few references. Good call by the way, your manager's….wow."

I inhaled sharply and tilted my head to the side. "And?"

"Well, I was hoping you could go back there. Not as a waitress or anything, although, would be ideal…"

"Bruce."

"Just for a little while," he said. "They hang out at the bar lounge. I need your help."

"I don't want to go back there. That place gives me anxiety, Bruce. I can't. I won't. I'm sorry," I said with a shake of my head.

"Please Melanie. With enough evidence I can bust these guys. I have a friend at the D.A.'s office, who's working on it now. You said you wanted to help people."

I winced. "Yeah. I wanted to, but I'm not a spy. And you are not a cop. This is outside the law, Bruce. I'm a normal citizen who is just trying to get by and get through this thing called life. Not all of us are hell bent on revenge," I said and walked away from him sadly back to start putting the fabric away for him to take with him. He followed me back to the makeshift table.

"I get that. I really do, and I'll protect you if anything happens to you. I need eyes and ears and names on these people. Descriptions. Detail oriented. That was on your application file. I know you've got no direction in your life, finding your path is tough, I've been there, I'm there, now. I mean hell I'm a billionaire with too much time on my hands so I go spelunking every night, you know?"

I looked up at him, pressing my lips to the side and listened to him. He was right. I didn't know what to do other than work at Wayne Enterprises hoping I could bring some ideas to help clean up the city but in truth, I had no clue what that entailed.

"I'm your backup detail, okay?" Bruce asked. "You know the Narrows better than anyone. Please."

I sighed, and looked at him, determined, and desperate. "Okay, but only if we can get clear hardcore evidence that will help clean up these criminal douchebags. It's what your father would want."

He grinned. "Thank you. I owe you."

"Mhmm. Now, unfortunately we don't have a bag big enough to carry your items out Mr. Wayne, but-"

He smirked at her. "I'll figure it out."

"Uh-huh, of course you will."

~*BB*~