I sat on the edge of the bed fiddling with the bullet I had found yesterday. I knew that if I wanted to find out where they came from, there was only one person I could go to. But therein was the problem- going back to him meant going back to my past. I only hoped I was strong enough to deal with the nightmares afterwards.

I walked out into the kitchen where Clark stood shirtless, flipping eggs and watching the news. Walking up behind him, I snaked my arms around his waist and pressed my forehead against his back, placing a soft kiss between his shoulder blades. He gently grabbed one of my arms and pulled me around untill I was facing the front of him.

I couldn't help but lick my lips as I looked up at him, running my hands over the hard planes of his muscles. I hadn't even seen him move but out of no where I felt a strong arm wrap tightly under my bottom as Clark lifted me up and set me on top of the counter. I wrapped my legs around his waist in an attempt to pull him closer and was met with a groan of approval escaping his mouth as his lips moved against my neck.

My nightshirt didn't stand a chance against the strength of Superman as he easily shredded it and tossed it aside. With his arm tightly around my naked torso, he repeatedly rocked his hips into me, but not before moving his mouth down over one of my stiff peaks. I gasped and pulled away slightly as he pulled it into his mouth but suddenly I was hit with the smell of something foul.

"Clark," I rasped, my voice sounding thick with lust. "Your eggs are burning."

He quickly pulled away from me and rushed over to the stove. Using his super breath, he put out the fire turning the entire pan to ice in the process. As he turned back to face me, we both burst out into laughter but the moment was over. I hopped off the counter and headed back into the bedroom.

***

Later that day, I stood in the over grown marshes surrounding the once lavish Wayne Manor. Unfortunately it was nothing more than a burnt out shell of it's former glory, but I was sure I would still find who I was looking for deep within the caves buried underneath. I hesitantly made my way inside and over to the secret passage way that I knew led to where I wanted to go. As quietly as possible, I snuck down the stairway and was soon greeted by two very familiar voices.

"You're getting slow in your old age, Alfred," I heard Bruce tease the older man.

"It comes to us all, Master Wayne," he shot back. "Even you got too old to die young, and not for lack of trying."

I had just finished coming down the flight of stairs when I heard Alfred testing out the mic in the Bat suit.

"Funnel, fairy, bubble bath. Funnel, fairy, bubble bath. There's nothing wrong with the microphone," he said. "It's this new layer of armor."

I tried to stifle a laugh but as both men turned around, I knew I had exposed myself.

"Rose."

Bruce looked less than happy to see me as his eyes scanned my face. I felt guilty as I could practically see him reliving the moment my parents died and I wondered if I shouldn't have come. At least Alfred was willing to accept me with open arms.

"Miss Montgomery," Bruce's old caretaker smiled as he wrapped both arms around me. "It's good to see you," he quickly added. "My, my- you've grown into quite the remarkable young lady."

I blushed slightly as I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear but suddenly I could feel the tension in the air as Bruce turned on me.

"Why are you here?" he questioned. "What do you want?"

"Master Wayne," Alfred scolded.

"It's ok." I placed a gentle hand on the older man's shoulder. "I know it's been a while since I've been back," I said. "I think the last time I was here, actually, Bruce was entertaining some questionable Russian ballet dancers. Isn't that right?" I teased, tossing a smirk his way.

My quip earned me a short chuckle, but it was quickly back to business.

"I assume you need something?" Bruce asked.

I nodded my head as I took the bullet out of my back pocket and sat it down on the desk where Bruce was working.

"I was hoping maybe you could help me figure out who manufactured these," I said.

Bruce grabbed up the bullet and curiously inspected it the same way I had. After a few minutes he finally set it back down and looked up at me.

"It's unlike anything I've ever seen before," he admitted. "But what makes you think I'd be willing to help you?"

"I don't know," I snapped as I narrowed my eyes at him. "Maybe because we're family?"

"Hardly," he countered. "Your mother was my cousin-"

"Yeah, and you let her die."

As soon as the words left my lips, I regretted ever saying them. My hand quickly flew up to cover my mouth but it was too late to take them back now.

"Bruce, I'm sorry," I said as he angrily snatched up the bullet. "I didn't mean that."

"Yes. You did," he shot back. "But you're right, we are family. So I'll do this for you, just once, and then I never want to see you again."

"Bruce-" my voice cracked at his rejection of me.

"I'm sorry, Rose. I just can't," he told me. "Every time I look at you-- I see her."

"You can't keep blaming yourself for her death, Bruce."

"Why not?" he challenged. "You do."

I was about to open my mouth in protest when I saw Alfred ever so slightly shake his head at me. Clamping my jaws shut, I silently nodded my head in agreement and instead of arguing I decided to have a look around. I walked over to the giant main frame in the cave and looked up at the mug shot on the screen.

"Who's this?" I asked.

"Anatoli Knyazev," Bruce answered me. "He has contacts all over the world, but for the most part he's based out of the port in Gotham."

"You mean like a smuggler?"

"Basically," Bruce said. "He has charges against him for weapons and human trafficking but what I'm really hoping is that he'll lead me to the 'White Portuguese'.

"The White Portuguese," I scrunched up my nose. "Who's that?"

"That's what were trying to figure out."

"But why?" I asked again.

Bruce rolled his eyes at me as he spun around in his chair. "You sure do ask a lot of questions," he teased. "But, I have reason to believe that the White Portuguese is trying to bring a dirty bomb into Gotham," he informed me. "By the way, your analysis is done," he said as he tossed the bullet back to me. "It's a military prototype not sold commercially anywhere around the world. Not even on the black market."

"So what do you think that means?" I asked, a quizzical eyebrow raised on my face.

"I'm not sure," he replied. "But maybe you need to re-think who you entertain between the sheets."

My mouth literally fell open and although Alfred had remained quiet through much of our conversation, he decided that now would be the appropriate time to reprimand his employer.

"No, Alfred," Bruce shook his head. "She needs to hear this. I mean Jesus, Rose, count the dead!" he exclaimed. "Thousands of people. What's next? Millions? He has the power to wipe out the entire human race," Bruce continued to rant. "And if we believe there's even a one percent chance that he is our enemy, we have to take it as an absolute certainty-- and we have to destroy him."

As I listened to Bruce, tears welled up in my eyes threatening to spill over.

"That's how it starts," I began quietly. "The fever, the rage, the feeling of powerlessness-- it turns good men cruel. But, Superman? He's not our enemy," I stated with a shake of my head. "Not today."

***

It was much later than I thought when I finally walked out of Bruce's old home. I hugged my coat a little closer to my body as the air was brisk and the sun was beginning to set. One quick glance at my phone revealed an almost dead battery and of course today, of all days, I had left my gun at home. I quickened my pace down the streets of Gotham knowing it wasn't safe to be out past dark. I let out a sigh of relief a few minutes later as I was safely waiting in the subway for the next train to Metropolis.

At first the platform was filled with other passengers, but as time went on, I soon found myself standing alone in the cold, dark night. I looked down at my phone again but by now the battery was completely drained. I knew that if I called for him, with his super hearing, Clark would be able to hear me, but I saw two problems with that idea. One- I had no idea where he was. What if he was in the process of saving someone-- someone who really needed his help. Or two-- I really wasn't in the mood to answer his questions about why I was in Gotham or have him figuring out that I had been visiting Bruce.

I started pacing along the platform and prayed that my train showed up soon. As my eyes darted here and there, my mind was beginning to play tricks on me. Every little noise, every leaf that blew in the wind I was convinced was somehow out to get me.

In the shadows towards the end of the train platform, I thought I had seen movement again but I told myself it was just my eyes playing games with me. I turned my back for a second when suddenly four very burly Italians surrounded me. I instantly recognized them as some of Falcone's men and my heart sunk into my stomach. If I actually made it out of this alive, it would be a miracle.

"Well well well, what do we have here? What's a bellina like you doin', all by your lonesome?"

I backed up away from the one who was speaking but bounced off the chest of another who was behind me. I was literally surrounded in every sense of the word.

"L-look, I don't have anything, all right?" I stuttered. "No money. No jewelry. Nothing."

I shuddered as I felt the warm breath of one of the men fanning against my neck. "I wouldn't exactly say nothing, Sweetheart."

As one of them grabbed hold of me, my heart pounded in my chest. I was about to let out a scream for Clark when suddenly Bruce appeared. He swung down from god knows where, kicking two of them square in the chest away from me.

"Oh shit!" I heard one of them say. "It's the Batman."

Three out of the four Italians went to attack Bruce, but the grip of the fourth one tightened around me as he moved closer to the edge of the platform.

"Hey, Bat-shit," Falcone's man taunted as he held me over the edge.

My blood had turned instantly to ice in my veins as my heart slammed against my chest. The three mobsters were crumpled around Bruce's feet but the sudden loud blare of a train horn behind me was something neither of us were prepared for.

"Let her go!" Bruce screamed.

The pain and sadness on his face was almost unbearable and as I looked into his eyes we both knew he would never make it to me in time.

The Italian chuckled before tossing me off the platform. "What a poor choice of words."

*Hello all my beautiful readers! I love you all so much! In case you missed it, Rose is Bruce's first cousin once removed ;) I've been writing like a mad man lately, so I really hope you enjoy this. Leave me some love!*