Criminal Trespass
by Lucy Gillam

Gotham.

If you had told her fifteen years ago that she would be in Gotham, she would have laughed. If you had told her that Clark Kent would be the star reporter for the Daily Planet in Metropolis, while her own by-line would be in the crime section of the Gotham Gazette, she'd have done it right in your face.

Of course, if you'd told her fifteen days ago that she'd be sneaking around the estate of Gotham's most prominent citizen, investigating a murder allegedly committed by said citizen, she'd probably have had the same reaction. Not that rich people didn't commit murders, but Bruce Wayne? Rumor had it he'd tossed his cookies at a charity fox hunt. Still, it would make a great story if it turned out to be true.

"You know, you're really not supposed to be here."

Chloe did not jump. Reporters who worked a crime beat in a city that was practically crawling with masked vigilantes did not jump when a voice came from behind them. Besides, it wasn't the Bat. She'd only heard him speak twice, but it wasn't a voice you forgot. Wayne didn't use a private security company, so it was one of two things: a cop or another of the aforementioned masked vigilantes. She turned around with deliberate slowness.

Mask. Big surprise.

"True. But I'm guessing you aren't either." Hell. She knew which one this was, but what was he calling himself these days? Really, you almost needed a chart.

He smirked a bit at that, although she couldn't tell if it was a "got me there" smirk or a "wouldn't you like to know" smirk. Nightwing. That was his name. Or alias. Or maybe it was his name, who could tell with these people?

"Tell you what: we'll go together. I'll even get you out of the gate so you don't have to climb the fence again."

"Oh, and you won't be right back. Notice the absence of the word 'stupid' on my forehead."

"No, I'd never accuse Chloe Sullivan of being stupid. But you are leaving." He stood back and gestured towards the gate.

Chloe sighed and started walking. She could probably drag this out, but she wasn't going to learn anything more here, anyway, and there was research into Vesper Fairchild's finances calling her name.

"Fine, but watch…" Wait a sec. "You know who I am? Have you read…Okay, stupid question. What else would you read but the crime section, the funny pages?"

"Well, actually, I never miss WolfHop, but yeah, I've read your work. I particularly liked your three part series on child endangerment in the superhero community."

Okay, that was definitely sarcasm. "Come on. It's never even struck you as just a little off-kilter that people who aren't old enough to legally drive a car are battling mutant villains and alien invaders?"

She could almost see the eyebrow go up behind the mask. "A little. So how old were you when you started in your chosen profession?"

"That's not even remotely the same thing. It's not as if working on the high school paper was dangerous." Well, it would have been true anywhere but Smallville, and he certainly didn't need to know about the mutant flowers or the mind-controlling former salesman turned junk artist or for that matter Lionel Luthor.

"Uh huh." They'd reached the gate by this point, and Nightwing pulled some sort of device out of…well, he pulled it out of somewhere, although where he kept things in that outfit was anyone's guess. Not that it was a bad look for him or anything, but still, it made you wonder.

He held the device up to the small security box at the side of the gate, and with a buzz, a click, and a groan, the ponderous wrought iron began to swing open. Chloe started out the gate, then turned back.

"Look, just out of curiosity, one trespasser to another: do you think he did it?"

Something passed across Nightwing's face, something even she couldn't find a word for. It made her think of Clark in their last year in Smallville, when he was still so sure that the rumors of Lex's less savory business practices were false.

"No," her companion replied shortly. "I don't think he did it."

Chloe nodded and turned to walk the mile back to her car. She found herself hoping that he was right. It would be nice just once to see faith in someone's innocence justified.

And besides, it would still make a great story.