This is my second attempt at Batman fanfiction. I wrote my first one, Living in Gotham, in 2008 and after a few harsh reviews I realized something: it's not very good. The canon characters are OOC, the plot is slow, almost non-existent, and the romance is unbelievable. After realizing this, I have decided to re-do it. Hopefully, this one works out a little better.

If anyone sees something wrong with how the story is written, please say something. Please. It took me almost 40 chapters to realize how bad the first one was.

So, without further ado, I give you Living in Gotham—Take Two (not actually the title, but I'm still thinking of one)

Bruce Wayne, Alfred and any other Batman characters DO NOT belong to me. They belong to DC Comics. My OC is still mine and is still based on one of my friends.

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Wayne Manor was way bigger than Becca remembered. She tried not to gape as she slid out of the limousine—a freaking limousine!—and adjusted the shoulder strap of her duffel bag. Her uncle's chauffer shut the car door while she just stood there and gawked. "I still can't believe this is where he lives," she choked out.

The chauffer—Alfred, if she remembered right—gestured toward her bag. "Shall I take your bag, Ms. Thompson?"

Becca shook her head, her dark hair falling in front of her eyes. "I'm good, thanks." She brushed the hair away from her eyes.

Alfred led her up to the front door and Becca silently wondered if her uncle had ever considered a moat. It would go really well with the whole castle look. She'd decided in those few minutes that Wayne Manor was definitely a castle. Becca followed Alfred through the enormous double doors and had to stop again as she took in the size of her new "temporary" home.

Her uncle was waiting for her at the foot of a double staircase. "Rebecca, welcome," he greeted her warmly. "How was your flight?"

Becca adjusted her shoulder strap again. "Hey, Uncle Bruce. It was fine, I guess. I thought first class excluded all discomforts, including screaming toddlers, but apparently I was wrong." She dropped her duffel on the floor and took a look around the room. "Nice setup."

Bruce Wayne gave her what looked like a practiced smile. "Wayne Manor's been in our family for a long time, and I'm fortunate enough that it was here when I needed it." An odd look crossed his face, but Becca shrugged it off and picked up her bag. Her uncle seemed to take the hint and his next words were directed at Alfred. "Please show Rebecca to her room."

Alfred nodded once before heading up the stairs.

"Not one for conversation, is he?" Becca said softly, the hurried to keep up with the surprisingly fast old man. Alfred led her up the stairs and through a series of hallways before finally stopping before a door. "Your room, Ms. Thompson," he said as he opened the door.

Becca dropped her duffel again as she went into the room. A queen sized four-poster bed with black sheets was in the center of the room. Black and white couches and a fireplace were resting on the right side of the room and a small kitchenette on the left side. Becca ran her hand along the back of one of the couches. "This is my room?" she asked.

"Is it not to your liking? Should I inform Master Wayne that you require a different room?" Alfred asked, his expression never changing.

When Becca looked up she was grinning. "It's perfect."

As soon as Alfred left Becca hurled herself onto the bed and burrowed beneath the covers. She got up and went to lounge on one of the couches, and after that she checked out the kitchenette. After thoroughly exploring her new room, she went back to the bed and flopped down on it with a satisfied sigh. "Now this," she said with a smirk. "I can get used to."

Cobie Smulder's "Let's Go To The Mall" alerted Becca that her phone was still in her bag and she scrambled off the bed and zipped open her duffel. She found her android smart phone and glanced at the screen before choosing "accept call."

"Hey Mabel," she answered while heading back towards the bed. "Yeah, I just got in. Yeah. Ugh, it was a nightmare. This one kid wouldn't shut up no matter what his folks did. He screamed for almost five hours straight, and he kept on screaming while they unloaded the plane. I know, right? I mean, I love kids, don't get me wrong, but five hours of them screaming in my ears? No thanks. Yeah, I did try headphones. No, they didn't. No matter how loud I turned them up. Like I said, it was a nightmare. Anyway, how's the job? Ick, really? Your uncle doesn't pay you nearly enough. You should ask him for a raise, especially since you're kind of putting your life on the line. Yes, Mabel, being a nurse in an insane asylum does count as putting your life on the line. Yes it does. Yes! Nope, too late, I win. Yes I do. Yep. Yep. Yep. Yah-huh. I win. Yeah, that's what I thought. Hey, listen, that flight killed me. I'm gonna shut down for a few. Kay, see you in a bit."

Becca ended the call and placed her phone on the night stand then went through her nightly routine. She found the door to her bathroom—her own bathroom! No more sharing with stupid sisters who hogged the mirror and used up the hot water!—and took a long, hot shower, dressed in her favorite fluffy pajamas, brushed her teeth, and then found her way back under the warmest covers she'd ever felt.

Becca had dreaded moving in with her uncle, no matter how "temporary" her mom claimed it was, but now that she was here it didn't seem so bad.

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Becca's first morning in Wayne Manor was somewhat confusing. She got dressed and left her room, but once she was out in the hallway she realized something.

"How the hell do I get back to the front of the house?" she mumbled, and then picked a direction at random. After a few minutes of wandering she caught the scent of coffee being made, so she figured she was heading in the right direction. Sure enough, Becca found her way to the stairs and then to the kitchen, where Alfred was doing some serious cooking.

"Whoa, check out Iron Chef Alfred over here," she said as a greeting and hopped up onto a stool in front of an island counter. "That's a lot of food."

Alfred made up a plate of pancakes, eggs, toast, and sausage. He placed it in front of Becca. "Neither Master Wayne nor I were sure if your preferences have changed, so it was decided we stick to the basics," said Alfred while placing a bowl of oatmeal next to her plate and a glass of orange juice by that.

Becca's eyes widened. "Again, that's a lot of food. So, what happens if I don't finish it?"

Alfred's expression never changed. "Then I'm afraid it's either the factory or the coal mines for you, young lady."

Becca chuckled and cut off a piece of pancake. "Good to see you too, Alfred."

After her parent's divorce, Becca had come to Gotham regularly to visit her mother's side of the family—actually, more like she was dragged to Gotham by her mother. Barbara Wayne-Thompson had decided she preferred to live in Gotham, where her given surname was more likely to give her a little power. She'd been virtually unknown in Los Angeles, and for Bruce Wayne's sister that wouldn't do at all.

Throughout all of her mother's socializing and visiting with Bruce, Becca had found an odd friendship with her uncle's butler.

"So, where is Mr. Rich and Famous?" Becca said with a mouthful of eggs. She smirked as Alfred's expression slightly shifted to that of disgust. It was fun trying to get his face to change.

"Master Wayne had to meet with Mr. Fox about a business proposition. His exact words included 'make sure Rebecca stays out of trouble.'" Alfred said with the slightest hint of a smirk.

Becca rolled her eyes and took another bite of pancake, then followed it with a spoonful of oatmeal. When she was little, she was never able to sit still, so Becca did the only thing any twitchy kid would do; she wandered off. As a child, Becca had found and explored every room in Wayne Manor. Her uncle and mother always found her and scolded her for leaving their sight.

Now, her uncle was reminding her of her wandering days and telling her not to go poking her nose where it didn't belong. There was only one possible reason he didn't want her snooping around; he was hiding something. Becca decided that whatever it was he had hidden, she'd find it.

After all, staying out of trouble? Come on, where was the fun in that?

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Author's Note: There, first chapter's done. Now if I can refrain myself from rushing things, that would be great.