Dark Reflections

by Lahara

A/N: Hello fanfiction land! I know I have other stories that I should be working on, but after seeing the Dark Knight... wow. I got obsessed. I bought the a script book, the sound track... I started reading various fanfiction here and got bit by the bug. The plot bunnies wouldn't leave me alone! So I started writing. And writing. And writing. I would get ideas for scenes I know I wouldn't be working on for a long while. And editing... oh the editing! Ugh. Worst of all I couldn't think of a title for my story for the longest time.

And now, here's my story. I wanted to write a long story that has elements of romance... but the romance part is going to take time. I feel that true love takes time, and sometimes we don't even realize it. The title is a reference to the fact that we should be happy with what we have, that everything in our life is something to cherish and be thankful for. However, after traumatic events we think we have enough and something mundane will fulfill the emptiness that loss leaves, or maybe avoid personal connections to avoid further pain from loss. I see Bruce Wayne believing that him being Batman will be enough to make him whole. It satisfies his needs for justice, but still leaves him incomplete.

The story starts between Batman Begins and The Dark Knight. I have Gotham Knight in mind too, as you might notice by a certain name that pops up. Not sure yet how much of Gotham Knight is going to get worked into this story, but the events of The Dark Knight will also take place as well. Eventually...

Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or anything relating to Batman. I'm just borrowing him and Gotham for a bit. I promise to take care of it, honest!

Merla Reinard awoke to a loud buzzing sound somewhere around the vicinity of her head. She opened one angry eye and peered from her pillow towards the offender. Her cell phone sat on her nightstand, lighting up in the dark room each time it trembled for attention. A slightly numb arm flopped across the bed and reached for the tiny, vibrating machine. It was her day off, damn it, and this had better be worth waking her.

On the third attempt to grasp the squirming phone she succeeded and tilted the front to see who was trying to reach her. She squinted to see without her glasses and could make out the name GORDON in bright letters. Merla let out a slow sigh and pulled her cell phone closer. If it was him calling her on the day he damn well knew she had off, it had to be important. She flipped the phone open, pressing it to her ear and covering her face with her free hand.

"Boss, I hope this is good."

"Reinard?" said an uncertain voice on the other line.

"Mmm."

"I'm sorry, I know it's your day off and all…"

"I know you know boss. I know that you wouldn't call unless it was important. I know the city gives us as little overtime as it is." She let out a slow breath and pushed errant hair that had uncomfortably bunched too close to her face during her rest. "That's why you're the only one I'd answer the phone for today."

Gordon cut her off. "Really? Guess that makes me one lucky Lieutenant."

Merla ignored him and continued. "And I know that you would only call if I was really needed for something important. So, like I said: I hope this is good."

A sigh escaped from the Lieutenant. "It's not good. Not at all. Another bank robbery. Looks like the Joker. You handled the other cases, and I don't want anyone else touching the scene before you."

"I guess that happens when you're one of the few crime lab criminalists just for MCU." She stifled a long yawn which caused her to cough a bit towards the end. "Alright. I'll get dressed and call you back for the location."

"Thanks Reinard." Gordon's voice sounded like a flood of relief hit him. "You're a saint."

Merla muttered and stretched her back in a cat-like fashion on the bed. "Yeah yeah. I know Boss. You love me. Talk to you soon."

She closed her phone and fought the urge to fling it across the room. It wasn't Gordon she was mad at, far from it. They were both hardworking individuals that gave their all in protecting Gotham. They both hated to see people hurt or taken advantage of, which basically was the epitome of the mob. Still, Gordon had a family and home life while Merla spent most of her days off sleeping in or reading. He had something she longed for, and wished him all the best. No, the Lieutenant didn't have her ire.

'That damn Joker guy. Did he have to pull a bank job on my day off??' she thought bitterly.

Merla moved quickly though her apartment in the dim light. The only illumination came from the faint glow through her bedroom window's blinds, a weak reflection from the street lights below. She followed the same routine everyday for so long she could follow the path blindfolded. Her life was simple, and it was enough for her. Scrubbing herself clean in the shower as quickly as possible, she managed to speedily wash her hair that dangled limply below her shoulders. Drying off and tossing the towel over the shower pole, she returned to her bedroom and opened the door to her closet. Ignoring the unpacked cardboard boxes she had shunned into its corner on the floor she pulled out a pair of jeans and a black long-sleeved top to wear today. Merla slipped into an uninspiring pair of undergarments before putting on her attire for work. She didn't bother drying her hair and just brushed the knots out before securing it in a tight ponytail. Pulling her glasses off the nightstand and planting them onto her face, she examined herself in the mirror which hung over her dresser.

Brown eyes peered out from behind black rimmed glasses, and her pale skin looked ghostly in the dim room. The lack of light in the room and damp strands allowed her hair to take on a pitch black color. Makeup was pointless in her line of work. She might have to label and collect bullet casings on the street one day or crawling under a house to locate a hidden corpse the next. Not that it mattered; she really didn't know anything about makeup application save the basics. Merla adjusted her glasses and took notice of the small frown already forming on her lips. She didn't want to look at her reflection much longer since her true identity sat patiently on her dresser.

GCPD Crime Lab – MCUstood out in bold letters on her ID tag that rested on polish wood, waiting for her. She picked it up for closer scrutiny; the reflective stamp in the background partially overlapped a picture that was nearly identical to what she just saw in the mirror. Almost everything was on that tiny little card spoke more about Merla than most people would ever know. She slipped the card into a clear carrying pouch made for such things and wore it around her neck to dangle on display. She also picked up her hip holster and gun.

When she was younger, she hated guns. To this day she still hated them. It was mandatory of the department for anyone in the field to both be proficient and carry one at all times. Gotham was dangerous, and the police department wanted even their forensic scientists armed. Merla drew the weapon from its holster and examined it. Safety on, she removed the clip and made sure the chamber was empty. Turning off the safety she pulled the trigger and got a resounding click in response. Strange how even unloaded that sound still bothered her.

Flicking the safety back on and reloading her gun, she slipped the holster into place on her belt. She then threaded it through her jeans and bent to grab a pair of heavy black boots. They were old and worn, but the leather wasn't cracked or damaged despite the obvious age. After she laced them closed, she then squirmed her toes inside. Not too roomy and not too tight. Merla let a faint smile of familiar comfort creep onto her face.

It didn't last long. She stuffed her wallet deep into her jeans, strapped on her watch, grabbed her keys off the bureau and at last picked up her cell phone again. Not releasing it from her grasp she slipped on her brown jacket; then flipped it open to redial in one hand as she unlocked her apartment door. Food and a warm drink to wake her up would have to wait; right now she had a job to do.

Despite downtown traffic and her only two years experience with Gotham streets, Merla made it to the crime scene rather quickly. Of course, Gordon's directions were quite helpful. None the less she spotted the familiar flicker of red and blue cutting through the dim night and bouncing off the fronts of buildings. She parked as close to the scene as she could. Yellow tape formed the standard police perimeter around the stone building with the press, well, pressing the limits of that barrier. They barked for quotes and tidbits of information like starved hounds.

A sound of distaste crept up from her throat as she slammed her car door shut. The media was by far something Merla enjoyed. Some reporters seemed just as vicious as criminals, wanting knowledge of any grievous sin committed to boost their ratings and get attention. Yes, the people had a right to know what happened in the world. But like many things that had good intentions it got swallowed into a pit of corruption and bled out more darkness in the world. It was enough to make her stomach churn. She moved to the back of her car and proceeded to extract her lab kit from the trunk. A pair of latex gloves were pulled out from the silver case and snapped onto her petite hands. She was set for work.

When she approached the tape a patrolman moved to stop her, but she held up her ID silently. Reporters spewed forth questions to Merla in hopes of gaining a hint as to what was going on, and she pointedly ignored them. She could give a damn about how much they needed something to post on the 11 o'clock news. Working the scene to catch criminals was more important than spoon feeding fear to Gotham city.

Inside was a mess. A few dead bodies were sprawled out on the floor in awkward poses as the coroner did their preliminary exams, a table that had pamphlets on it was overturned with papers littering nearby, a few yellow numbered cards had been set up around bullet casings by her fellow criminalists, glass at the teller's station had been shot at making spider web fractures, and even a section of wall had the plaster blown off it revealing wood frame underneath. Even around all this chaos, Merla found an eerie peace in her element.

"Reinard!" Standing near a couple of uniformed officers and plain clothed detectives she recognized Lieutenant Gordon. Merla felt her heart warm up as he waved her over.

Gordon was all she could ask for in a leader, a friend, and a man. He worked hard, was compassionate, and always did the right thing. Over the half a year he recognized her skills as well as her determination. A bond started to form between them as they quickly found trust in one another. Even though they really weren't in the field together as partners she still helped Gordon as much as she could would. Every difficult case at MCUMerla could get her hands on she went over meticulously to insure criminals be put to justice and not slip through the system. Their relationship was friendly, comfortable, even with a hint of mentor and apprentice sometimes. Maybe someone would look at it and see more, even with her affectionate nickname she gave him: Boss.

"You don't know how much this means." Some of the creases around the older man's eyes lifted as she got closer. "Damn glad you're here."

Merla smile some might have mistaken for smug. "You're good for it. And I know you wouldn't call without a good reason, Boss."

Gordon's eyes lightened behind his glasses. "Well you're one of the best crime scene investigators in MCU. Ramirez and Allen know the other bank jobs backwards and forwards, but I need someone with a more scientific background that knows the cases. How's your memory on off days?"

She sniffed a bit and shifted her weight while standing in place. "Fairly decent. Some tea would help spark the neurons," she tapped her temple to empathize, "but I'm sure I've got you covered."

"All I needed to hear" he nodded in satisfaction.

Gordon turned to the uniformed officers, speaking briefly while Merla started to scan the scene with her eyes. Ramirez watched her skeptically. Some detectives just hate having their territory encroached on, even if they were on the same team. Merla never understood the discomfort between criminalistsand officers. They worked with people, and she worked more with inanimate objects (and sometimes inanimate people too.) In the end it was a collaborative effort, not competition.

She stepped around one of the bodies slowly, noticing the rubber clown masks. Gordon followed not too far behind. "Same as the last ones? Suspects turning on each other and one leaves with the money?"

"We can't confirm until the bullets are extracted and ballistics run, but it looks that way." Gordon commented as Ramirez and Allen shadowed their boss.

Merla clicked her tongue a bit. "Shot in the back. Doubt he would keep his back to an armed security guard." She lowered herself near to one of the assistant coroners working on the body, not allowing her knees to touch the floor. "Can I remove his mask?"

The assistant nodded and motioned with his pen towards his paperwork. "Everything's been documented and I just released the body. He's yours."

She nodded back and slowly pulled the rubber mask off the body. He was at a funny angle, having fallen forwards but probably twisted a bit in pain and landed on his side. She tilted his head slowly and brushed his hair back to get a better look at his face. He was young, and looked almost peaceful even with his eyes open. It must have been an unexpected and a quick death.

Ramirez breathed in a bit sharply. "Damn. He's a fucking kid."

"Probably has priors, even if it's a juvie record. His prints will give us something." Merla spoke gently and brushed her fingers over his eyes to shut them. "Too young to be a hardened criminal, too stupid to walk away from a lucrative offer."

Without a breath of emotion she stood, removed her gloves, deposited them into a plastic bag in her pocket, and pulled on a fresh pair. Merla didn't want to contaminate anywhere the man wasn't with his hair or skin. Whatever remnant of himself he would leave behind in life he was now incapable of doing, and she wouldn't allow the scene to be contaminated.

She glanced up to Gordon after she replaced her gloves. "I'd like to see the vault."

It was more of the same, really. Another body with a pool of blood congealing underneath it sat slumped against the wall. The vault door was opened, safety deposit boxes untouched and most of the loose cash gone. A few bundles of wrapped bills that didn't make it to the criminals had fallen to the ground. Gordon followed Merla in closely as she meticulously examined the area. Ramirez stayed close to the vault doorway.

"Looks like it was quick." The criminalist looked over the area carefully. "They only wanted the cash and didn't even try to jimmy one safety deposit box. Probably on a timed schedule. Even left what they didn't have time to waste for."

"It was planned. Carefully." A new, gravely voice bit out from behind her, causing Merla to spin around.

There was little that surprised Merla at this point in her life. A sudden, unrecognized voice behind her would normally cause the hair on the nape of her neck to creep up. She would then act accordingly, depending on the situation. This voice was beyond anything her ears heard before. It was low, purposely dark and heavy, and spoke of a dangerous man. Her hand reached for her hip holster reflexively as she turned to come face to face with Gotham's greatest and infamous.

"It's okay, it's okay." Gordon touched her shoulder soothingly to calm her down.

Merla let out a slow breath and let her hand drop. The Batman stood exuding an unnatural calmness, not showing any response to the potential threat she just made. He was a black pit of nothingness, and his eyes were full of a calculated calm. Just as she always tried to exude when she worked. Just what she had momentarily taken from her. It only served to anger the young woman further.

The Lieutenant looked between the detective, the criminalist, and the vigilante. He settled his gaze back on the first and spoke softly. "Ramirez, could you…"

She nodded with understanding and backed out of the vault, undoubtedly to make sure no one knew the Batman was interested in the robbery. Merla and the Batman just stared, or perhaps glared, at one another each sizing the other up. The silence hung heavy in the air, two stone sentinels daring the other to move.

The dark figure broke eye contact and spoke to Gordon. "You trust her?"

Merla's nostrils flared at that and her fist tightened. She doubted he was talking about Ramirez. How dare he presume she was untrustworthy! Certainly she held no ill will for him when he brought criminals to justice, but he was in no place to presume he knew her.

Her Boss spoke up. "Reinard's a crime scene investigator. I'd trust her with my life."

A bit of pride swelled in her chest hearing Gordon say that, but she pushed it down quickly with a flood of uncertainty and skepticism. Merla risked a glance to her right. "Are you sure this is alright, Boss?"

There was a bit of calmness in his expression as he nodded. Words didn't need to be spoken; Gordon was a good man and a good mentor. The bond they had started to form was still new but solid. But she would never drop her guard, and just turned to watch the masked figure once more.

Gordon spoke again, this time to the Batman. "Another bank hit. Same MO. Same man."

To say Batman walked would be incorrect. He flowed with unnatural grace as he moved further into the vault and extracted a device from his waist. Merla stood fixated to the spot and watched him, partly fascinated and partly weary. A man that radiated so much intimidation he was difficult to keep your eyes off of. He wanted justice in Gotham, just like Gordon, she, and every other uncorrupt member of the department. Gordon just didn't come off as being quite so damned dangerous, however.

The Batman lifted a discarded wrapped bundle of cash and pressed the device to it. Merla relaxed her hands that had reflexively bunched into fists and inched closer in silence. Her eyes flickered between him and what he held. "Marked. A mob bank."

Gordon brushed his coat back from his sides and slid his hands into his pocket. "Can't figure why he'd just go after mob money. Makes him a target for them as well the police. That, and now it's getting difficult to track what banks the mob runs if he takes it all."

Something clicks in Merla's brain. The irradiated bills she had known about, how dispersing the tainted dollars towards the lower part of the mob pyramid structure would make its way to the top. It was brilliant, very brilliant, but costly. Gordon had been elusive as to where he got the idea from and the backing to pull it off, but now everything was clear.

"That was your idea?" Merla blurted out.

The Batman just glanced to her momentarily without making any bodily motions. Gordon raised his eyebrows.

She shifted a bit in place, uncomfortable as to vocalizing her thoughts so blatantly and the following silence. Merla was rarely outspoken anymore. "It's just… very clever," she followed up with in a softer tone.

Gordon spoke up to break the silence. "Everything's conjecture at this point, at least until we run more tests. Then we'll have something more solid. We're focusing our efforts more on tracing the money directly to the mob, but these heists might be involved."

"Focus on the mob. Bigger threat to remove." Batman rasped out as he tossed back the stack of bills to the ground.

"If there is a link, it will help. I'll have a file put together for you. Merla," the Lieutenant turned to her causing the young woman to straighten out her back and face him. "You put together the evidence from all the scenes, including this one. Two copies. Try to keep the second one under wraps."

Merla nodded and turned back to the man in black. "You can pick it up-" but he was gone already. She looked around confused. He didn't even make a sound when he left. Merla furrowed her brow and turned back to Gordon.

He shrugged his shoulders listlessly. "He… does that."

Her arms crossed reflexively over her chest, a habit when she was frustrated. "Sure you want him in on this, Boss?"

"I trust he's after what we're after." Was all he calmly said.

Raising her eyebrows, she doubted he'd divulge unless she prodded him. So she did. "Which is?"

"Justice."

Even with the rest of the crime scene investigators who were clocked for today, it took nearly seven hours to finish processing the scene. Merla and her co-workers went over the vault carefully, searching for the most miniscule bit of trace or DNA they could work with. The trade mark Joker playing card he left behind was probably clean, but bagged and labeled anyway as procedure dictated. Thankfully they found a few hairs with the follicle still attached, but the likelihood of it being an employee and not the missing bank robber was slim. Still, it was something. Inside the vault there were no bodily fluids to collect either, but they swept each corner carefully. DNA was taken from the employees and witnesses, and back at MCU they had quickly compiled a report to compare with the other robberies.

As far as she could tell it was the same person leading the thefts. Everyone else was basically small time criminals with a long history of minor charges, or only a few major ones with minimal jail time. Some were young and spent a great deal of time in the system. Others spent time in jail together at one point or another. A few had traces back to the mob, but they were weak links at best and from years past. Whoever picked them was careful not to leave tracks behind. And it annoyed her to no end.

Tapping the end of her pen to her chin, Merla wrote in a few notes to her report. The summery was really the most important since everything else basically was "this gun shot this round, this suspect's fingerprint on this gun" etc, etc. Certainly it looked boring, but it was taking pieces of a puzzle and putting it together. This puzzle, however, had far too many missing pieces.

Signing off her report and tossing down the pen, Merla sighed and felt terribly unsatisfied. Some of the guns were used in other crimes but had no links. Nearly everyone's DNA was accounted for, and all were witnesses or dead. The only leads she had left was one hair with an unknown donor and a man whose gun linked back to the robbery.

Several years back a man by the name of Roland Edelstein had held up a liquor store at gunpoint. A few rounds were fired into the walls for intimidation but the gun was never recovered. Roland was arrested and charged with enough evidence so the weapon wasn't required. A missing gun was still not a good thing, and Roland wasn't one of the dead bank robbers. His current address was unknown, but enough digging might locate him. Merla doubted someone as small time as Roland would upscale to planning bank robberies, but the trail of the missing gun might lead somewhere.

A glance towards the clock told her it was getting close to 3 am. She was exhausted. The small meal she had consumed hours earlier had burned up in her body for fuel ages ago. The Lieutenant was probably still awake, knowing him. Something like this he wouldn't be able to let go. Closing the report and its duplicate, she took one in hand and slid the other inside her brown jacket. Walking through MCUwith an illegal police report copy didn't make her feel terribly good. She was breaking the law to preserve the law; though she doubted such a minor crime was the least of her department's concerns. They didn't even really care about catching Batman and just put up the front that he was to be apprehended. Still, if it resulted in guilty criminals going to jail it made Merla's conscious less heavy.

The door to Lieutenant Gordon's office opened easily, and Merla found him behind his desk on the phone. The wooden desk was covered in files, his name plate shining proudly and declaring his name and rank, and a few pictures of his family sat in clear view and away from the mess. Gordon glanced up and motioned to Merla as she quietly shut the door.

"Yes sir, I know that Commissioner. We're working on it." She sat down in one of the chairs across from him. "Nothing yet but I'll inform you when we have a solid lead." Gordon rolled his eyes behind his glasses and leaned back further in his chair. "Yes sir. Goodbye." He tried not to slam down the phone in frustration and sat upright.

"Commissioner's impatient, I gather." Merla said conversationally while holding out her report to him. "Surprised he's up late like us little people."

"He won't get off my ass." Gordon took the folder and flipped it open with a sigh. "Four banks. Four damn banks. We can't rush results and are already working to the bone on this one." He glanced up to Merla over his glasses. "Please tell me you found something."

A slow breath escaped her nose before she spoke up. "Not much. Unidentified DNA and a long lost handgun. Along with a lost potential previous owner. If we dig enough we might find something to locate him and find out where his gun went. Past that, little connections besides the obvious with the robberies." She pushed her glasses up her nose a bit. "I think a few of our dead suspects might have worked for the mob and bailed out at some point. Might be motive."

"You never leave the mob." He glanced up to her. "Or they never leave you is more precise."

"All the more reason. They get mad at the mob for whatever reason, want to hit them back and get away with it. Piss them off." Merla rubbed the back of her neck that was starting to form a crick. "I guess they think if they can get away with that amount of money they can go into hiding afterwards. But that only goes for the dead suspects. The one planning it… I think he's either mad at the mob or wants their attention. It's not about the money."

Gordon closed the folder. "Good theory. Get some small times to work with you, kill them off, and repeat. Nothing solid to prove it yet. Not until we find this… Joker."

Merla couldn't think of anything to say. The Joker started a little after Gordon got his promotion. Now he was haunted by this case. When he was put in charge of MCUhe insisted on Merla getting transferred with him from his last precinct. She could see how everything was slowly wearing him down: the mob, the Joker, and trying to live a sane life. With her parents over a thousand miles away and their currently uncomfortable standing, perhaps she looked to Gordon as a bit more of a father figure than a mentor. If that was the case, she couldn't lose that close of a relationship with someone. Not again.

She stood and looked him squarely in the eye. "I'll go give the file to… well. Him. Maybe he can follow the leads I managed to find. It's late. You go home, see your family, Boss."

There was a heaviness in Gordon's eyes as he looked up to his protégé. "You sure? I should be the one. Besides this was supposed to be your day off… you should be the one heading home."

Meeting his eyes proved difficult suddenly. She walked over to the door and silently opened it. There was a hesitant moment that passed before she glanced over her shoulder and spoke softly. "But you have a life to go home to, Boss. I don't. Take care of yourself."

And she left his office, fighting back sting of tears begging to form. The memories tried to creep up the back of her neck and she fought them down with grim determination. Merla still had to meet with the Batman and deliver the information. He might not be happy to see her, but that was too bad. She'd protect the people who mattered to her against any odds. Even if the odds consisted of an irate Batman.

He didn't take terribly long. Or maybe Merla just stared out into the dark city and got absorbed into the sight of Gotham at night. She had found the power switch for the flood light and flipped it on. The loud hum it generated at first made her hope she wouldn't accidently electrocute herself. After that she stood watch and gazed out looking at the city with arms crossed over her chest. At the city she wanted to help so much. Like Gordon. Maybe even like the man she was waiting for.

Last time he had come and gone without a sound. The familiar noise of the city echoed from below and all around, but she still strained her ears to listen for anything. The wind picked up and pushed her ponytail over her shoulder for a moment, the rushing sound hurrying past her ears. For a moment she thought she heard a sound like a flag whipping against the wind, but the wind was drowning out sound on the roof of MCU with strong currents. Not nearly as strong as the voice behind her though.

"You called me."

Merla felt her shoulders stiffen reflexively and the back of her throat tighten. That was the second time. She wouldn't show him the satisfaction of catching her off guard again. Slowly turning to face him she kept her arms crossed. His piercing gaze nailed her in place, and she mustered all her will to do the same to him. Merla said nothing. Batman said nothing.

Displeasure radiated off of him and she could almost hear his thoughts of 'Don't waste my time.' She uncrossed her arms and opened her jacket to retrieve the copied file. The wind hit her long sleeved shirt underneath and took most of the warmth from Merla's lungs. It ached, but she passed the pain aside as she approached him.

"Evidence collection from the bank heist, with the other bank jobs as well. Cross references of similarities between the crimes under my notes." She held out the file as she got closer, feeling a trickle of dread lingering in the core of her chest as she got closer. It was like walking towards the center of the pitch black night. With the city lights were sparkling stars that he blocked with his shadowy form as stars he became the void of a black hole.

When she got close enough he took the file. Not snatching; he just let it slide into his gloved hand. She didn't let go of the folder yet. His eyes went from the file to her eyes and showed he wasn't amused.

"There's something important." Merla explained softly, her eyes not backing down from his. "I found two leads. One I can't follow and the other will take time."

The Batman inclined his head to show he was listening. She released the file when she knew he wasn't going to dash off. "A gun," she resumed. "Or I should say the past owner of a gun. Matched with an old crime but was never recovered. Until today. The man, Roland Edelstein, served time at county and was released. Had contact with his parole officer for a few months, and then never checked in again. His rap sheet's inside. I can't find anything else on him. It will take time to track him down."

"Find him, find who got the gun." The gravely voice finished for her.

She nodded and zipped her jacket shut again. It wasn't oddly as cold near Batman, probably since he was blocking the wind. "Exactly. Find where the gun went, we got our next link in the chain."

"The other lead?"

"DNA. Have nothing that matches in the database or from the bank jobs. That goes on the back burner until something can be found to compare it with. Could be from a security guard on vacation for all I know. It's still something." Merla sighed and lowered her eyelids slightly, looking more at his chest than his face. "Some evidence still is being processed and will take time."

"I need access to it." The Batman deadpanned.

Her eyes shot up to his again. "Like hell. It's being processed and stays in evidence." She pursed her lips a little in thought, biting her lower lip. "Alright, look." Her hands shoved into her jacket pockets and her eyes found his feet now. Gordon trusted him but she couldn't hand over evidence. Breaking the chain of custody would ruin any chance of using it for an arrest, let alone a conviction. There were other ways.

"Boss trusts you, so I'll do this. When the reports come in I'll have them. They're already on priority so either tomorrow or the next day." Dark eyes met dark eyes once more. "I'll give them to you once it's ready. I'm sure Gordon would be okay with it."

At some point the file had vanished from his hands, and Batman said nothing. He didn't argue but didn't exactly agree either. But something was confounding her. Her eyes couldn't tear away from his. Maybe it was to see him disappear or to glean some insight into the mystery that he was. She wasn't sure. Despite his powerful presence something nagged at her. Yet Merla didn't want him to leave yet. Cops and citizens alike had mixed feelings about the Batman. Not her.

"I…" her voice was almost a whisper now. Eyes begging to divert from his steely gaze, she only took a step back from him as a show of her sudden discomfort. "I'm glad you're working with us. Or towards the same goal. There are good people in the city, and they deserve a good city in return."

It was too much and she couldn't look at him anymore. Merla had to turn her entire face away. Now it wasn't intimidation, it was the discomfort of opening herself. Even Gordon she had difficulty opening herself to. But Merla needed him to know he wasn't resented by the city, by the cops. By her. Even if he did manage to sneak up on her a lot.

His voice stirred her from her thoughts. It was softer this time, still a hint of danger in it but almost gentler. "The people of this city are good people. Gordon's one of them. So are you."

A weak laugh in her chest was all she could muster for a moment. She didn't consider herself terribly good. Doing the right thing and protecting people was all she wanted to do. But good? She watched the lights of the city shined back in some strange response to her thoughts. "Yeah… well. What about you?"

But there was no answer. When she looked up he was gone, again. But she couldn't curse in frustration. There was too much lingering in her mind already. In silence she walked over to the flood light and pulled the heavy switch to turn it off. Arms wrapped around herself she walked to the access door for the roof and slowly opened it. With a glance back into the inky night, she spoke gently to Batman even if he couldn't hear.

"You're a good person too. Don't forget it."

The door swung shut behind her. She didn't know, but her words did not go unnoticed by him.

A/N: Just so you all know, this story is a test. I wanted to see how it would be received. It's horribly long and I wanted to cut it shorter, but the need for you readers to understand where I'm going was important to me. If you enjoyed it and want to read more, tell me. I'm not holding the story ransom to reviews, but if I think no one is enjoying it as much as I enjoyed writing it then I don't see the point in posting. Sorry if it sounds harsh, but I want to make sure people actually like this story. Don't worry, I'm not giving up on this story or my other ones. I'm going to keep writing no matter what anyway.

P.S. Am I the only one who thinks the Batman Begins and Dark Knight sections should be combined? And why are some characters listed in one section and not the other? C'mon fanfiction, get it together!

P.P.S. Yeah. I changed the title and the character's last name. I wasn't happy with it. And why the heck did the first line repeat? I also was half awake while writing the author's note... so I fixed my spelling errors. Sowy.