A/N: Do to overwhelming requests for me to continue this series, here's Chapter 2!

Selina Wayne

It hadn't been 24 hours since Bruce had seen the Wayne murders when it was announced on TV that the main suspect had been killed by the GCPD.

A couple hours after that, it was announced that the suspect had in fact been guilty, meaning that the entire thing was over.

Bruce was beyond relieved.

The whole thing still freaked him out. Granted, he should've been used to stuff like that, people dying.

But this one felt different, like it meant more than he currently knew.

Of course, the death of a few billionaires was much more important than that of a few street kids. Bruce spat on the floor of the boxing ring at the thought. Why was anyone more important than anyone else? They were all human, they should all matter.

Bruce snapped back to reality when Ted snapped a straight jab at his face. They'd been sparring for almost an hour and Bruce's adopted brother was getting tired of him losing focus so much. Bruce just barely deflected it, but Ted didn't stop. A few punches later Bruce was flat on his back.

Looming over him, Ted asked, "What's up with you, kid?"

Bruce cocked his head to the side in fake confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Ted began, reaching down a hand to help Bruce up, "you aren't focused today and you seemed pretty shaken up last night. So…what's up?"

"I'm just…off, I guess." Bruce shook his head. "I'm fine. Wanna go again?"

Ted shook his head. "Nah, I gotta go clean the showers before dad gets home."

Bruce nodded and made his way out of the ring.

He was off, and Ted could see it. He needed to keep his guard up, better.


A few weeks passed after the Wayne murders and Bruce's life had almost returned back to normal.

He'd even gotten back into his pick pocketing routine, meaning that he had to go see a Fence pretty soon. Recently, he'd started breaking into places to steal jewelry and stuff, which were things he couldn't live off of but if he sold them, he could make quite a bit of cash.

He'd only ever worked with a Fence named Tin who worked out of a fight club in the Narrows.

Bruce hated going there, and he felt as though it was a bad idea, but he ignored his gut and went anyways.

When he entered, he peaked into the ring to see who, or what, was currently fighting for the people's amusement. He was disgusted to see that two pit-bulls were tearing at each other while people threw stuff at them and jeered the dogs on.

Swallowing his objections, he just walked by and made his way to the back room. Two guards reached out to stop him, but from inside, a cheery voice called, "Fellas! Let the kid through, he's an old friend."

Bruce gave each of the guards a victorious smirk and strode into the room. Tin smiled his ugly, toothy grin at him. "Hey there, Brucey."

Bruce cringed inwardly at the nickname, but managed to keep a straight face. "Hey, Tin."

"What do ya got?"

Bruce pulled out a paper bag and started emptying it. Two watches, a pearl necklace, a wedding ring, and a pair of expensive-looking earrings fell out. Tin smiled greedily at the pile.

"How much do you want, kid?"

"Three-fifty," Bruce answered. Bruce knew he had an unnatural love for shiny things, meaning that if he offered Tin a deal that would be lower than most offers he gets, he'd take it.

Tin considered, and then nodded. "Exactly what I was thinking. Copper, pay the kid!" Tin reached out with both hands and pulled the pile towards himself.

A loud commotion erupted from the room next to them. Voices were shouting over the cheering of the crowd and a few gunshots were fired. Tin reached for his sawed-off shotgun and Bruce rushed for the window.

The door to Tin's office burst open and shouts started drowning out all of Bruce's coherent thoughts.

He eventually fell in line with the other people being arrested and was restrained for questioning.


A few hours later, Bruce was locked in the holding cells in the GCPD along with Tin and the majority of the people in the fight club.

Bruce sat down in the back corner of the cell, keeping everyone in front of him at all times. A lesson he'd learned early on was to never let anyone out of your sight if you could help it. That, and never trust someone who's friendly.

Even in the uncomfortable, hyperaware state he was in, Bruce eventually dosed off for an hour or two.

Bruce's head snapped up. There was a stabbing pain in his right shoulder and people in and out of the cell were yelling, creating utter chaos in the precinct. Two cops were already in the cell, holding back a man with a shank.

Bruce suddenly realized what was happening. He knew what the sharp pain was.

He'd been stabbed.

Doubling over in pain, he watched from the ground as two officers started beating down the man. They didn't stop until he was flat on the ground, completely motionless except for his heavy, ragged breaths.

They dragged him out by his arms and a doctor rushed in, surrounded by the officers who pushed the other inmates to the other corners of the cage. Bruce passed out somewhere in there and was in and out of consciousness throughout the cleaning and bandaging of his wound.

When he woke up again, the remnants of the pain was still there, but less sharp than it'd been earlier. A kind-looking woman smiled at him. She asked, "Can you tell me your name?" He cocked his head to the side and she told him, "I know your name, I just want to know if you know your name."

He nodded. "I'm Bruce."

"Bruce what?"

"What's it to you?" Bruce snapped at her.

She held her hands up and replied, "As long as you know it, that's all I need." She opened the door and called out into the hall, "He's all yours, Detective."

Even on the pain meds, Bruce's brain went on high alert. He was just formulating an escape when a man, presumably the detective, walked in and shut the door behind him.

Bruce's heart dropped.

It was the same guy that'd tried to stop him from running away from the crime scene those weeks ago. Apparently, he had gotten a good look at Bruce.

Bruce could see the recognition on the man's face, but he didn't ask about that. Instead, the Detective introduced himself. "Hi, I'm Detective Jim Gordon." He looked down at a chart and asked, "Bruce…Kyle, is it?"

Bruce nodded.

Gordon asked, "Well, Bruce, do you have any idea why that man in the holding cell attacked you?"

By the tone of his voice and facial expression, Bruce knew that Jim knew exactly the reason why, just that he was curious if Bruce also knew why the man attacked him.

Obviously, Bruce knew why.

"I think I have an idea," Bruce said vaguely. Jim nodded for him to go on and Bruce said, "I saw the Waynes get killed. Saw the whole thing plain as day," Bruce paused, and then lied, "I even saw the killer's face."

Jim's eyes went wide. "You saw the killer? How?"

"Before he pulled his mask up, he was wearing it around his neck."

"It was almost midnight in a dark alleyway, how would you have seen him?"

"I can see in the dark," Bruce answered, matter-o-factly.

Jim nodded. "And you think that the man with the shank was sent to, what, kill you?"

Bruce shrugged. "I never told anyone I was there, but maybe someone," he looked pointedly at Jim before continuing, "saw me leave." Moving onto a different note, Bruce lulled, "Streets talk, ya know, and I heard that your partner was the one that put Mario Pepper down. What if he was the wrong guy?" Bruce analyzed the Detective's expression and concluded, "You know you got the wrong guy, don't you?"

Jim looked at him quizzically. "Who told you all that?"

Bruce smirked. "You did…just now."

Jim shook his head in embarrassment. "How about this: I get you out of here and into protection, and you work with me on finding the real killer."

"Protection?" Bruce asked suspiciously. "Where?"

"I have a few places in mind. I'll make some calls."


Alfred bustled over to the telephone and picked up, announcing, "Wayne Manor, Alfred Pennyworth speaking."

Over the phone Gordon greeted, "This is Detective Gordon."

"Ah, 'ello Detective."

"Alfred, I need to ask you a big favor."

"What kind of favor, if you don't mind me asking?"

Jim sighed and then told him, "There's a kid from the Narrows that…he was there the night Thomas and Martha Wayne were killed. Now, I told you that I don't think we got the right man, and he confirmed it. I think this may be the key to finding their killer."

"I thought you said no witnesses had come forward. What's with the boy's change of heart?" Alfred questioned.

Jim answered truthfully, "We caught him trying to sell stolen necklaces and jewelry to a Fence."

"Ah, so, you want a thief to stay with us…in the Manor…"

Jim sighed. "I know it sounds bad, but he seems to be Selina's age. As far as we know he doesn't have family and has been living on the streets his whole life. I think this could help everyone."

Alfred paused and Jim heard the telephone switch hands. A feminine voice said, "Hello, Detective."

"Hello, Selina. How's everything?"

"Good." Skipping the small talk, Selina asked, "What were you saying about a witness?"

Through the phone in the background, Jim could hear Alfred exclaim, "He's a bloody criminal!" but Selina seemed to ignore him.

Jim answered, "Yes. A witness…came forward and wants to trade protection for helping us with your parent's case."

"Well, we definitely have enough room." She paused and then confirmed, "Sure thing, we'd be happy to have him. What's his name again?" Selina asked.

Jim answered, "Bruce Kyle."

Selina felt a weird alarm go off in the back of her head at the name, but she ignored it. "Alfred can come pick him up if you need him to."

"No, that's alright. I'll drive Bruce myself, I could use the fresh air. Goodbye, Miss Wayne." Jim hung up.

Selina hung up the phone and turned back to see a glaring Alfred. Selina told him, "I'm going to do whatever I have to to find my parent's killer. Whatever it takes, Alfred."

"And I'll be right there with you, Miss Wayne, but…shouldn't we be cautious? He's a criminal…"

"I don't give a damn what he is or isn't," Selina shot back. "Jim said he might be the key so I'm willing to give it a shot. Now, can you please go prepare a room for him, oh, and throw on some soup or something, I'm starved."

Alfred bit back a cheeky response and replied, "As you wish, Madam."


Jim and Bruce came around a couple hours later.

They pulled into the driveway to the Manor and Bruce's jaw dropped. "I'm gonna live there?" he asked, not really believing his turn of luck.

Jim nodded. "And try not to steal anything. This is the safest place I can put you that doesn't include jail, understand? If Mr. Pennyworth gives me a call, there's a cell in Juvie with your name all over it."

Bruce nodded, not really hearing him. "Yeah, yeah, no stealing, whatever." His eyes were still glued on the three story, mansion of a house they were approaching.

They pulled up and a man in a suit came bustling out of the front door. He opened Bruce's door for him and Bruce slowly climbed out of the car, taking in the entirety of the Wayne Manor in one look.

Jim told Alfred in a whisper, "Remember, I'm just one call away. If you need anything, don't hesitate."

Alfred took a good look at Bruce and responded, "Well, you'd better keep you phone on you then."

Jim nodded hesitantly and then turned to Bruce. "Be good."

He grinned mischievously, looking between the two adults. "Always."

Jim and Alfred exchanged a nervous glance before Jim bid farewell and drove out of the grounds.

When Alfred turned back to start telling Bruce all the rules he'd compiled, he was surprised to find the boy nowhere to be seen. "Bloody hell," Alfred muttered to himself.


Bruce had been wandering around the halls of the Manor for over half an hour when he found the vase. It looked old, probably Chinese, and very expensive. Picking it up, he felt its weight, shook it, and then tossed it into the air a few times.

Another voice jarred him from his thoughts. "I think it's from the Chinese Ming Dynasty, or something. Five…" Bruce turned back to her and her voice caught in her throat, "five hundred years old."

Bruce was sent into a moment of shocked silence. He knew he was coming to live with the girl and her butler, but he hadn't given much thought as to what to do when he actually met her. He'd seen her parents die…what was he supposed to say? Sorry?

Bruce smirked. "You can buy one just like it in Chinatown for five bucks." He set the vase back on its pedestal and turned back to her.

Bruce took his first good look at the girl and realized how beautiful she was. She was a bit taller than him, but it wasn't by much. Her short, curly hair framed her face near perfectly and Bruce caught himself wanting to stare at her piercing, green-blue eyes.

Selina was in the same boat. She'd never met the kid from the streets, and she hadn't even known he was there that night. He would obviously become a looker one day with his edged jaw line and dark, ruffled hair. His eyes were the thing that caught her attention, though. They were dark brown, but seemed too old for a kid of only twelve, like he'd seen things that'd aged him decades. Selina found herself getting lost in his gaze

They stood awkwardly for a few seconds before Bruce stuck out his hand. "I'm Bruce Kyle."

She stalled for a second and then shook his hand. "Selina Wayne. People call me Cat."

"Nice to meet ya, Cat."

A/N: And that was the second chapter! Bruce and Selina finally meet and the plot will start to thicken from here on out so stay tuned. I have the entire story plotted out so I should be able to post consistently until the end of Season 1. Thanks for reading!