Child of the Dark Knite

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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters related to the Batman. Jennefer and Lissa are mine however.

Authors Notes: This is a work of Fan fiction. It begins in the era of Batman Beyond, but has flashbacks to the Batman animated series. Those who hate flash backs, sorry, this is how the story goes. So please read on and enjoy.

WARNING: The following work of fiction contains explicit sex. If you are under 18 (or whatever age is appropriate for your location), HIT YOUR BACK BROWSER BUTTON NOW. If you find explicit sex offensive, please don't offend yourself by reading further.

Author: Charlotte (jemstone5)
Email: jemstone5
Feedback: Please, yes lots.
Forward to others: would be flattered if you did.
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Chapter 1 A Dangerous Journey

She sat in the waiting area, she was scared. 'What do I do if it comes back positive?' How could she explain her heritage?

"Miss Coster?" someone touched her shoulder, startled she looked around. The waiting area was gone, replaced by the stoic décor of the commercial airliner she was on. The steward was beside her, his hand on her left shoulder. "Sorry," he said with a smile. "Didn't mean to frighten you. We're getting ready to land, please put your belt on."

"Thanks." She'd slept through the flight. She didn't remember much after take off from L.A. accept that she had to get rid of the damn restraint. After that, it was all a dream. A nightmare really. Ever since she'd found out, she was terrified of going to sleep, terrified she'd never wake up. Flying was dangerous for her, the slightest jolt and...
LadiLadies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We've begun our decent to New Gotham International. Please return all trays and seats to their proper position, anstensten your seatbelts. Also, please extinguish all cigars and cigarettes in the smoking section. The weather in Gotham is 5 degrees centigrade and rainy. We hope you've enjoyed your flight aboard L.A. to New Gotham direct, have a pleasant day."

"33,000 feet, and that guy still sounds like he's got his nuts in a vice," she said.

"Excuse me?" asked the man next to her.

"Do I look like I was talking to you?" she snapped. The man shrank back, pulling his paper abruptly before him.

"Miss Coster?"

"What!!?"

"Easy miss," said the steward, handing her a glass. "Your pills. You asked me to remind you."

"Thanks. I'm sorry, I'm not myself. I hate flying."

"That's quite alright." The plane shook slightly, and she grabbed the back of the seat in frof hef her. "It's alright. Just a little turbulence. Quite normal."

"Not for me," She took some pills out of a bottle in her purse and chased them down with the offered water. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Not to worry. We'll be at the terminal in about 20 minutes."

'Easy for you not to worry,' she thought, and tried to relax till landing. Although it was hard to do, with the plane bouncing around.

On the ground it was even worse. The terminal was crowded, and she got pushed around a lot by the rushing commuters. She was pushed so hard, that she fell, and if it hadn't been for her taking a security guard down with her, she may very well have been trampled. He helped her back to her feet and offered to give her a ride on his trolley. She gladly accepted, and had no further trouble. She collected her bag, and the guard drove her to the entrance where the cabs were waiting. After securing a cab for her, she felt bad that she had to turn down his dinner invitation, but she had more importthinthings to do. "Gotham Inn on 32nd street," she told the cabbie.

"That old dump? Lady, I wont even board my mother-in-law in that place, and I hate her."

"Still. After this cab ride, I'll have little money to afford anyplace else."

"O.k. Gotham Inn it is. Though you may want to buy a gun. It's in the heart of Joker territory."

"Just get me there. I'll worry about the rest." The trip had taken all her savings, and then some. She'd barrowed money from all her family members, what few were still talking to her after the news was told to the family, and even begged to borrow money from the few friends that she had in L.A. She had scraped enough money together to rent the motel room for a week, she hoped, food for that time, and maybe take a cab ride to where she had to go. After that, she only had her return airline ticket, and that was it. Her grand parents lived in Gotham, though they hadn't spoken to her mother in close to 30 years. She doubted they even knew about her. All she could do was hope for the best, and be able to find him, before she ran out of money.

The cab stopped outside a heavily graphitied building, the remains of a sign above read GOT INN, the rest of the word Gotham was missing.

"Thanks," she said.

"You sure you want to stay here?"

"I don't have a choice."

"I could take you to a shelter."

"After I just flew into town? Don't waste your time. Take care, and thanks again." She sprinted up the stairs, passed the drunks and addicts passed out on the stone steps. She approached the desk, and dropped her duffle bag on the floor. "Is room 29 available?" she asked the man behind the bulletproof glass. He looked in his register, as if he really had to, then shook his head. "I'll take it," a drawer opened up in front of her, brandishing the electronic payment system.

"300 credits a night."

She slid her card through the machine's slot and approved the amount of the bill. So much for the week boarding. Taking the card key she picked up her duffle bag, getting dizzy from the swift movements, and turned to the elevator. OUT OF ORDER. "Great. How many floors?"

"Five," he said.

"Wonderful," and she started climbing.

The room was a mess. Whoever was in it last, and most likely they were Jokers, had really trashed it. The management obviously didn't care about it. "Well, may as well take a breather. TV On." The wall screen sprang to life and showed the CGI news personalities with smiling faces, giving a report of a bus crash on the other side of town, that killed several adults and school children. "Why they ever put school buses in the air, I'll never know," she took a deep breath, trying to steady her vision. It lasted longer each time it happened. Thankfully, not this time. "Ok. Locate any current info on..." 'oh damn what was it mom said his name was?' "...Wayne" 'that's it' "Bruce Wayne."

A moment later a talk show personality appeared on screen, "...all of Gotham's elite will be here. Bruce Wayne, is said to give the inauguration speech..."

"Off." The screen went blank. "Can't go see him tonight. Have to wait till tomorrow. Well. Better get some sleep, with one eye open."

As luck would have it, nothing happened, at least not in her room. Before taking her morning medication, she looked over the envelope her mother had given her, one more time. It was stiff and black, hard to see through, with gold ink in her mother's hand on the cover. 'Don't Open', and the verbal instructions her mother made her swear to, six was from Sunday, that she would only let one of two men open it. Bruce Wayne being one. She grabbed her bag and left, tucking the envelope into her jacket pocket. Her cab was due any time now, she hoped. She checked out and waited by the curb. All she had left was a little money to buy some food and the cab fare. She hoped she could impose a little on Mr. Wayne, her mother told her that he was quite a kind man in his youth. She hoped that was still the case. She was only at the curb a minute, when a bright red cab pulled up. "Didn't I tell you it was a dump!" said the driver.

"You again? How?"

"Hey, only once in six years had anyone been dropped off here, and when the call came for a pick up, I grabbed it, knowing it was you. Come on. The Jokers are prowling around the corner."

"Nuff said," she climbed in the cab and locked the door.

"Where to?"

"Do you know where Bruce Wayne lives?"

"Yeah."

"That's where."

"Why d't y't you go there last night?" he asked, steering the car down the roadway.

"Because I haven't met him yet. He's an old friend of my mom's. She's asked me to look him up when I got here. Besides last night, I was beat."

"You still look beat, you ok?"

She rubbed her temples, the searing pain threatening to crack her skull. "I'll be fine, just drive."

An hour later, her pills kicking in, she hoped, they arrived at the gates of the Wayne estate. The great rearing stone horses inside the gates, were badly grown over with vines, and legs had broken of and were left were they landed. "You sure he'll see you?"

"I hope so," 'I really hope so.' She pressed the buzzer. A dog's bark was heard across the lawn, and a small dark spot streaked from the house, heading for the gates.

"Who is it?" came an old gravely voice.

"Mr. Wayne?" she called. "My name is Lissa Coster, I need to talk to you."

"Regarding?" asked the voice sternly.

"I was told by my mother that you could help me. Please. It can't be discussed out here." The dog pounced at the gate's bars, barking madly, protecting his home and master. "Please, I've come a long way."

"Then it was for nothing. Good day."

"No, Sir! Please! She sent a letter for you. Please!!" she staggered, grabbing at her brow. "Shut UP!!!" She shrieked at the dog. Surprised, the dog shrank back and sat down. "Mr. Wayne, please. I haven't got a lot of time. What you can tell me could save a life. Mom said that was important to you once."

She could hear light cracking over the speaker. "Who's?" asked the voice.

She took a steadying breath. "Mine."