The freedom I had felt during the first few weeks of my arrival was fading. John was teetering between being supportive and overprotective. Who was he to tell me what to do? Just because he was chivalrous towards me didn't mean he could start laying down restrictions. Sure, I was staying at the manor - but that didn't leave me in his custody.

After dismounting the bike towards the entrance to the manor, I walked alongside John as we made our way to the garage. He could sense something was on my mind.

"You wanna talk about anything? You seem… off" he said.

"It's not really my thing to bring up the past. I try to avoid thinking about it as much as possible," I said, looking down at my worn out shows. My whole wardrobe needed revamping, to be honest.

Parking the bike, he took off his helmet and placed it on the seat.

"Sooner or later you'll have to confront it. Remember what I said about not having to do this all by yourself. You have friends now. You have me."

I smiled faintly and nodded. He went in for a hug and his grip was strong but gentle. He stroked my hair gently as I wrapped my arms around him. The newness of tender emotions made me want to run away. Connection meant eventual loss. More pain. Despite his overprotectiveness, there were things about him that I did admire.

As we locked up the garage, the golden hour was upon us. The sunset brushed the ground with an orange glow.

"I think I'm going to organize what I've managed to salvage from my old apartment tonight and head to bed early.

He nodded, stopping at the side entrance to the manor.

"Well, thanks for today," he said, "...it's nice having you here".

We stared at each other, lingering before the open door for a few extra seconds. Eyes locked, I felt an uneasiness in my stomach. But the potential intimate moment was cut short, as the sound of thousands of shrieking bats flew upwards from the caves beyond the gardens.

I sighed as I opened the door to my room.

What was I doing, catching feelings? I threw my bag on the ground and fell forward onto my bed. It was only 5 o'clock but I was exhausted. After inspecting my necklace for a few seconds, I found myself drifting off to sleep.

I was on the edge of a tower shrouded in mist. Strong winds pushed me from side to side, threatening to blow me off. Holding my forearm up to my face, I realized I was wearing black, protective armor. The tower shook violently as two figures appeared hovering in front of me, each beckoning me to take their hand. As the wind pushed me closer, I realized I was going to fall. Which arms would catch me? Or would I fall alone to my death?

I sat up sweating. My heart was racing. I stood up and went to the bathroom for a glass of water. This was all too much. Finishing the glass quickly and setting it back on the counter, I walked back into my room. Glancing at the clock, it was only 10:30.

Sitting down on my bed again and turning on the bedside light, I thought about the day's events. The creepy man in the police department with the gaping scar, my intimate moments with John, the Joker's men fixing the hole in the ceiling. Why was he keeping his hideout there, anyways?

Then it hit me. The Joker's henchmen were planning something tonight… 23rd and 4th street. Oh, John… Would this be his first night putting on the mask?

My curiosity was going to get me into trouble if I followed him back to the city. On the other hand, if I was planning on helping him, I might as well see what John could do. Besides… who knew if he'd get himself into trouble. He would need another set of eyes.

I stood up and ran to my bag, pulling out a black sweater, some old sneakers and my handgun. Creeping downstairs, I knew the garage was locked. Luckily I had remembered the passcode John had punched in earlier today. With the handgun hidden in the back of my jeans, I unlocked the side door and made my way inside.

It was pitch black but I dared not to turn on the lights. Using my phone's flashlight, I tracked down where John had parked his bike earlier. Of course, it was gone.

It had been awhile since I'd ridden a motorcycle, but I found a smaller model with the keys in the seat's glove compartment. I hoped that John or Alfred or the late Bruce Wayne would forgive me for borrowing it.

Opening the garage door as silently as I could, I crept out towards the main entrance without turning on the ignition. It was a perfectly clear evening.

As soon as I was out of the gates I started the bike. Touching the stone on my necklace, I hoped it would help me get there and back in one piece. Mounting the bike with a little bit of a wobble, I was off. Slow at first, but I eventually picked up speed. In minutes the city was in view.

John was crouching on the rooftops overlooking 23rd and 4th. Lucius had done a wonderful job upgrading Bruce's last Batsuit. Night vision was already coming in handy as he stalked a group of thugs approaching the store from the back alley. They had the street secure from all sides as the store owner came out to lock up the shop, unaware of the impending theft.

The owner of the store was a small italian man with white curly hair and small spectacles. He must have been opening and closing that shop over and over for decades. As he delicately locked it, John could tell it was the man's pride and joy. John didn't have to wait long for the thugs to approach the elderly man.

"Hands up, pal and back away from the doors" one of the thugs said with a crowbar in his hands. "I don't want to get my clothes dirty tonight."

The old man withdrew a gun from his belt and stood his ground.

"Come any closer and I'll shoot" he said in an italian accent, pistol shaking in his hands. When the thugs moved towards him, he fired a bullet. It grazed the leader's arms and he stifled a yell as he held his bleeding shoulder. Thugs easily tackled the shop owner to the ground. The poor man never had a chance.

Go time, John thought, swooping down from the top of the building and into the shadows of the alley. The old man lay dazed on the ground as the man with the bleeding shoulder picked up the owner's gun, pointing at him.

"You're gonna pay for that-" A bat shuriken knocked the gun out of his hand. Yelping, he was swiftly taken out by an elbow to the gut. John stood in his disguise, a black figure shrouded by the night. Only a flickering street lamp illuminated the mask on his face.

"Fuck-It's Batman!" One of them screamed, swinging a crowbar. John easily side stepped him as he ran into one of his fellow accomplices. After only a few moments, he had taken them all out.

There was a brief silence as all the men lay grunting on the ground. He walked over to the store owner, helping him up. Still dazed, he rubbed his head and gasped at the red eyes staring back at him.

"Batman?" he whispered. "Is that really you?"

"Not Batman. Nightwing. " John responded in a low growl.

Someone must have heard the shots and alerted authorities as the sound of cop cars accompanied by red and blue flashing lights approached the store. The man turned quickly to look in their direction. Sighing in relief, he turned to thank Nightwing for saving him and his store.

But he had vanished into the night.

John made his way back onto the rooftops as I watched from the corner of a far building. Impressive work, I had to admit.

I held onto my bike and watched as the cops pulled up around the building, circling the injured thugs, handcuffing them and throwing them into police cars. I could already hear the store owner wildly describing his savior. The next Batman. Nightwing… I liked the name. Pushing my bike away, I decided to head back to the Mansion. He didn't need any help after all. Whatever he was planning next, he was well prepared.

However, as I mounted my bike, a man appeared in front of the alley entrance, blocking my way out.

"Been lookin' for yah's," he said, in a cockney British accent. As he walked forward, my eyes widened as I realized this was the same disfigured man from the police department.

"Who are you?"

"A messengah, love." He shifted his weight from one side to the other.

"What do you want?" I asked, about to pull my own pistol from its holster.

"E' wants to meet yah. The docks, tomorrah. Midnoight."

"Who? And if I refuse?"

"I wouldn't if I was you…" he sang, spitting what must have been tobacco onto the ground beside him. "E' doesn't like when he 'as to get his 'ands dir-ie." Tipping his hat, he strolled along, disappearing from my view.

Standing briefly in shock, I slowly walked my bike towards the exit. He had already vanished into the maze of side streets. Who wanted to meet me? Was it the Joker? Wouldn't he have just contacted me directly? No… it couldn't be him.

I knew I made a mistake by leaving the manor. This is what I got for returning to the narrows.

Just promise me you won't come back here again by yourself, alright?

Oh, John…

Rattled, I made my way back to Wayne Manor.

The next day I went down for coffee late in the morning. Alfred had already gone out for his regular golfing excursion but he left some toast and coffee on the table. I heated up the coffee with a piece of toast in my mouth.

"Good morning" I heard a voice from behind me. John was already dressed and carrying tools in from the garage. I almost choked on my toast. I needed to act oblivious.

"Good morning. What are you up to?"

"Just making some modifications to my bike. How did you sleep?"

"I woke up a few times, but I slept ok."

Putting the tools down on the table, he also grabbed a piece of toast.

"How do you feel about some combat training today? Kids are off on a field trip and we have the ground to ourselves" he said, smirking. I gulped, noticing how dry my mouth was. I thought about how quickly he moved last night. How he took out all those men on his own. It was incredible. Lessons from Batman's protege? Why not?

"I suppose I can let you teach me a few things…" I smirked.

"Great. How about I meet you in front in an hour or so? The bird needs some tuning."

"Take your time," I said, watching him pour a cup of coffee. "We have all day."

That's what I was afraid of.

In an hour I jogged towards the lawn with my sweats on. The weather was cold but tolerable. John was on the ground stretching as I walked towards him.

"Sit down and stretch, we're going to be doing a lot of moving today."

"Right," I said, sitting next to him.

"How is your arm feeling?" he asked, inquiring around my bullet wound. To be honest I had forgotten about it. It was beginning to scar over and most days it wasn't sore anymore.

"It's getting back to 100%"

He smiled standing and offering me a hand.

"All right, now that we're ready, face me." He said, turning me towards him. "Show me your fighting stance."

I did so.

"Okay, just what I thought. Your posture is too defensive. You need to loosen up so you can move with more versatility. He took my hands and moved them forward.

Not again…

The electricity between us ignited my ability once more.

This time, I was struck by his strong feelings for me. It made me nervous to know how John truly felt… He was falling in love.

"Now," he said. "I'm going to throw a few practice kicks and punches. I want to see how you handle yourself. Are you ok with that?".

"Bring it on," I said, doing my best to feign confidence.

"That's more like it!" he said, taking his stance.

At first he went easy on me. It was child's play and I parried his moves. We moved around the lawn, beginning to break a sweat as he increased the level of difficulty.

I knew there was something different about this, because the more contact we made, the more I could predict his every move. After a while, he realized that he had to step up his game.

He fought harder, I defended harder. I couldn't believe my amount of skill. I was good but I was never this good. Could this just be from his memories? His touch?

"Jesus, Lucy!" he said between breaths, "you've been holding out on me this whole time!"

"I told you I could take care of myself," I said panting as I dodged another one of his kicks.

"Sure can. Now, show me if you can attack as well as you can defend!"

I smirked.

As I ran towards him, but stopped short. I was thrown off guard by a disembodied laugh…

You're safest with me, Lucy… the voice whispered.

As John dodged me and threw a debilitating punch into my chest. The air left my lungs as I tumbled backwards.

Why was I hearing him in my head? I could feel his energy all around me…

John threw himself at me, but I rolled to his right. As I stood to run, his hand grabbed my ankle and I fell forwards towards the ground with a thud. I grunted as he pulled me towards him.

Jack… what have you done?! I heard his mother screaming.

Hahahh…heehee…hah…

I was sweating profusely despite the autumn air.

Lucyyy… Luccyyyyyy… What do you say we make a deeeaaal?

"Never turn your back on the enemy, Lucy."

I looked up at John…. But it wasn't John's face.

Before I knew it, I was being pulled into a deep kiss.

After a few long moments he finally pulled away. I was left dazed.

"I'm- sorry.." he said, letting me go from underneath him. "I shouldn't have…"

I didn't give him a chance to finish as I pulled his lips back onto mine. I wasn't sure who I was kissing anymore… and what these new emotions meant for me in the future.

After a few moments I pulled away. He looked at me in awe and chuckled.

"I thought I could help train you… but maybe you could teach me a thing or two."

I felt an empty, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I was kissing John… but I was thinking about him.

As we were walking back to the manor, we saw Alfred's Mercedes pulling into the driveway.

"Out for a Sunday run?" he asked, assessing our sweaty state.

"Actually, Lucy just kicked my ass."

I jabbed him and feigned laughter as best I could.

"Lunch?" Alfred asked cheerfully.

"Lunch" John and I said in unison.

After lunch and another long kiss goodbye, John said he had some errands to run before students returned the next morning. I told him I was going to relax the rest of the afternoon and turn in early. In reality, adrenaline was shooting through my body like never before.

With all of today's activity I had yet to prepare for the meeting at the docks tonight. Once I was alone in my room, I checked the news on my phone to see if there was anything happening in the city. All seemed calm.

Sundays were sort of an unofficial mob holiday. When I was younger, I spent Sunday mornings at church followed by an early dinner with the extended "family" at upscale Italian restaurants.

After laying out some dark clothing on the bed, I forced myself to sleep a few hours.

I headed down to the garage around 11 pm. John's bike was still gone. As I pushed the bike I had used the night before out towards the end of the driveway, I couldn't help but to think about Bruce Wayne, Batman, the legacy he had left. I wondered what he'd be doing in a situation like this.

As I sped into the city towards the docks, I decided that whatever happened, I wouldn't let myself be used ever again. I'd take back my power tonight.

The docks were just as grimy and depressing as I remembered them. I hoped this time around I wouldn't end up in the ocean.

I took my helmet off and parked the bike near an old boathouse. The place looked like it hadn't been used in decades. Nothing but the noise of distant traffic and the sloshing of waves against rotting, creaking piers. I looked at my phone, it was almost midnight. I shivered and rubbed my hands together.

"Ah, very good. Right on time," said an unfamiliar voice.

I turned quickly to see a man dressed in a black tuxedo, fitted with a bowtie, a top hat and a cane. Limping out from the shadows of the boathouse aided by a cain. Three men followed behind him with machine guns. As he entered the dim light, I gathered he was in his late 30's or early 40's. His skin was abnormally pale with a crooked nose and deep sunken eyes that could only be described as blackened marbles. I took a step backwards.

"No need to be on your toes, Ms. Falcone." He said, motioning his men to stand off. "My boys here… are only for security's sake."

I held my breath as he walked closer to me, stopping a few feet away.

"Who are you."

He took off his top hat, bowing slightly with the aid of his cane. "My name is Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot. Or as the media prefers to call me, The Penguin."

I had heard his name before… Cobblepot had worked for my father.

"I've invited you here to propose a deal. You see… I know about your predicament, Ms. Falcone. In fact, I know it very well. Things have changed quite a bit since you've been gone," he said, brushing something off of his jacket.

I couldn't wrap my head around how this weirdo could have landed the opportunity to become the head honcho of the mob. He was fragile and creepy looking, not a confident, bulky Italian man with a short temper and terrible taste in cologne.

"Your father ran a powerful organization. His predecessor, Marconi, had a good run with it too. But not good enough. As they say, he went the way of the dodo."

"Whatever it is you want, I'm not interested." I said bluntly.

"Well, before you poo-poo my proposition, I'd like to remind you of the debt your father has yet to pay for..."

"You can't put my father's actions on me" I spat, "I wasn't involved in any of his filth."

"Ah yes, how strange. That's exactly what your mother said to me as well."

"Don't you fucking talk about my mother!" I roared. My rage got the best of me as I made a run at him. His thugs circled me with their guns and I was on the ground in seconds.

"It was monstrous, of course. Her death was completely uncalled for-"

I struggled to free myself, screaming.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"Why do you think everyone is chasing after you, Lucille? Did you assume that no one knew about your gifts?"

"You think you can use me, just like that!? I'd rather die, asshole!"

Cobblepot sighed, "I had a feeling you'd say that."

With a snap of his fingers, one of his men threw a sack over my head. I hadn't felt my blood boil like this since my mother's death.

Before I could be taken away by the Penguin's men, a powerful boom resounded from the boathouse. The blast knocked us all to the ground. I could feel the heat of the explosion on my face as debris scattered around us.

I quickly gained my composure, as I threw off the sack and stumbled towards my bike. Midway, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was one of the Penguin's men. I placed my hand on his and my gift kicked in like clockwork... I knew his next moves and had him on the ground in seconds.

I reached my bike just in time for me to see it explode into flames. Taking a few steps back, I screamed once again in frustration. Someone had blown something incredibly explosive at it... A bazooka?

Two other men came running after me but were taken down by an array of bullets. I crouched down, looking around to see the source of the gunfire. The Penguin, who was well on his way towards me, stopped abruptly.

"Quite an entrance" the Penguin breathed, staring at a single shooter behind me.

There was only one man I knew who would pull a stunt like this. Turning my head, The Joker was holding a machine gun, eyeing the Penguin curiously.

The Joker, still holding his gun at the Penguin, walked towards me.

"Just wait until you see the next act-," he said, throwing his arm around me, licking his scars.

"If you're here for Ms. Falcone, I can't let you take her. This is mob business. No need for any clowning around."

The Joker took a moment to soak in my appearance, completely ignoring the mob boss's remarks.

"I really do like this new pink hair look…" the Joker said, looking me up and down and pulling me closer towards him.

"You think you can just walk away and steal her from me!?"

"Uhh… yeah?"

With that, more men appeared behind the Penguin that must have been waiting in cars around the corner. The mob always had backup.

The Joker giggled and he held firmly onto me. The smell of gunpowder and gasoline filled my lungs. It was intoxicating and familiar.

"Ok. Listen, Penguinni. You shoot me, I shoot the girl, everyone dies. Right? No fun in that. Let's make this a little more exciting…," he said, licking his lips, "How about a riddle? Answer it correctly and I'll give her to ya."

The lanky man shifted his weight and adjusted his bowtie.

"I've just about had it with your antics."

"Be a good sport, won't yah?"

The Penguin's men now approached, larger in numbers and armed with machine guns and pistols.

"Okay… okay… you get one chance. Ready? Listen carefully…How many jokers are there in a deck of cardssss?"

"You can't be serious-"

"I'm a man of my worrrd" The Joker growled deeply, forcing the gun to my temple. I jumped in shock as his free arm wrapped tighter around me.

Nervously, the Penguin responded. "Uh… two? There's two?!" The Joker grinned.

One of the Penguin's men began firing rounds at the surrounding henchmen. As the Penguin ran for cover, the imposter was eventually taken down. The Joker whooped with laughter as he yanked me past the smoldering remains of the boathouse and towards a van waiting down the street.

"Well… I did give him something" he laughed giddily, shooting a few more rounds back towards the commotion.

I didn't have time to protest, or think too much about his sick Joke, as he ushered me into the unmarked van. Shutting the doors behind him, we sped off.