I told you an Epilogue was coming…I've just been really lazy and only just got round to finishing it! Once again a big thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorited and alerted this story, and an especially big thank you for sticking around and enjoying my story.



'He's off the market, Girls'

'Bruce Wayne officially taken'

'Wedding of the Century'

'Mrs. Wayne to be everyday lawyer'

These were only some of the headlines that graced the front pages of every single newspaper, magazine, news website, radio and television news broadcast, not to mention being the talking point of talk-back radio, gossip radio, and every single woman's mind across Gotham on the morning of November 23rd 2008. It was a topic that had everyone in Gotham excited, but only two people laughing.

For Bruce Wayne and Rachel Dawes, the story that was apparently "exclusive" and was apparently less than a day old, had actually started three months earlier, from bended knee and hot-air balloon high above the earth. Neither could remember properly where it had been, only that Rachel had been exhaustively tired having been woken up at five in the morning, and was still yawning when suddenly something was glittering and sparkling from the corner of her eye.

The rest was, well, history. Her eyes went wide as she realized what it was, and meant that she completely missed everything that it was he said that was good and loving about her. She missed those elusive words, "marry me", and instead was a possibly overbearing "yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes," woman whilst throwing herself at him.

They had then returned to Gotham, a huge, sparkling, glittering rock on her third finger, and no-one asked anything about it. Not even the gossip magazines which had been excited about nothing more than her choice in clothes and career since the revelation that she was alive and they were together, not even they asked anything about the horde of diamonds that made her hand dance and dazzle. A horde of diamonds which she did very little to conceal.

It didn't matter that the thing weighed a ton; she was going to wear it until the day she died. Any way it would be a good workout for her arm. Who needed weights or a gym when you had a rock (or rocks) that totaled the size of Texas on one finger?

It was probably because she was going to marry the best and most amazing – not to mention the closest thing to a god she had ever seen. Yeah, that was probably why the weight of, how many diamonds was it again, was not affecting her that much.

To be honest, Rachel found it quite surprising that nothing had been revealed earlier. She and Bruce, after coming to an agreement about their relationship, had spent another six months in hiding. It took that long for the Joker's trial to finish, especially when he ignored his lawyer's advice to take an insanity plea, a decision which led to him being tried like a normal human being before finally being acquitted on all charges and given the death penalty.

Rachel, although she had never found any ease with capitalist punishment, was immensely relieved when word came out. Gordon's visit to the penthouse on the morning of the 17th June 2007 had been one of the best days of her life. She was finally able to walk outside, along the street, through the park; she was free.

Yes there where still moments when she would hear a twig break behind her and feel her body temperature drop, but those moments were always followed with Bruce is Batman. I'm always safe. The good thing about all those moments was that as time went by they became fewer and far between.

But despite the occasional moment of sheer panic that she was about to be blown to smithereens or a large and attractive hole was about to appear in her body somewhere, Rachel Dawes was giddily happy, excited and over the moon – a position every bride-to-be felt when she new she was marrying 'the one'.

The only thing that could in any way dampen her mood was the insane amount of photographers and journalists that adorned her wherever she went. It made her job difficult, not to mention her days incredibly tiring.

The worst part of it was that they just never left. She would walk into her office building in the morning with a group of photographers following her with flashing bulbs that sometimes made her feel like a zoos penguin, and then in the evening, when she left they would still be there! It was ridiculous. Plus it made her days annoying when she couldn't leave for an hour over lunch – except for when she was going to meet with Bruce.

In that case, there would be photographers following her from the moment she exited her office building, to the cab and then from the cab, to the restaurant where she was meeting Bruce. How could anyone put up with this level of attention? No wonder all celebrities were stick figures.

Nevertheless, after dodging questions and ducking her head with a style and grace that Lindsay and Britney were yet to learn – a style that potential princesses managed to attain with advanced simplicity – she still managed to enter the restaurant and immediately found him.

"Sorry I'm late." She smiled as she met a standing Bruce, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "Greg is rightly treating me like a normal lawyer and refused to let me out of the office until I finished preparing a report of 'international' significance for the trial." She sighed, sitting down and immediately allowing her shoulders to hunch, allowing all stiffness to flow freely.

Bruce merely smiled at her, feeling a light laugh coming. "Well, while you were doing a good morning's quality work, I spent the entire morning at the hospital site handing out a rather large cheque." His voice sparkled with sarcasm and irony.

"Do you think we'll ever make it?" Rachel asked, over dramatically, falling back in her chair and raising her hand to her forehead. "You, a bored philanthropic billionaire and me a hardworking criminal lawyer?" She continued, placing the back of her hand to her forehead.

Bruce chuckled. "I don't know. Maybe I should do the old-fashioned, anti-feminist thing of forcing you to quit your job and chain you to the kitchen sink."

Rachel grinned. "Maybe you should." She leaned in close to him so that the people at the next table couldn't hear them. "But then you wouldn't be able to enjoy that thing I do."

"That's what mistresses are for." Bruce responded without missing a beat. "Although that thing shall be missed." He grinned evilly.

Rachel smirked at his statement, ignoring the mistress jibe. Both then fell into a comfortable silence, which ended when the waiter approached them, taking their order which consisted of the daily special salad for him, and the roast steak for her.

"Have I mentioned how ridiculous it is the amount you eat?" He asked as the waiter walked away.

"No I don't think it has ever come up, mister 'I'm-so-hungry-I-could-eat-a-whale-but-instead-I'll-have-the-salad.'" She grinned.

It was this banter, this comfort, this type of interaction that always made the photographers outside a distant dim memory. For just under an hour, Rachel would forget that she was the fiancée of the richest man in Gotham, and that she was just a normal girl, engaged to a normal guy.

Of course she knew that was not true. There was no way Bruce would ever be a 'normal' guy, there was far too much too him, and for that reason, a 'normal' girl would never be appropriate.

Later that afternoon, as she sat in her office groaning about the speed of the internet, and finding herself wondering at how she never missed the paperwork during her year-long absence from the world, she found herself – as was un-surprisingly usual – getting lost in her engagement ring.

It was odd, how something that in the long run was incredibly trivial – it was after all just a ring – was also the item that was in some ways her savior. For a year, plus a bit extra, Rachel had found herself constantly fearing what was around the corner, and what was behind her.

Almost getting blown up does strange things for your psyche.

Being saved, having to watch a building you were trapped in explode, spending a year in a prison – no matter how luxurious – and yet still be free, it had given her a wound she never thought would repair. And then, as if by magic, she looked into the hands of her lover and saw the most beautiful thing she had ever seen and knew that she no longer had anything to fear.

Rachel was no longer a broken, damaged or fragile woman. She was strong, resilient and determined that her life and the one that she was creating would forever be safe, pure, and enduring.

The End

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