Entering a crime scene is never as hard as they make it seem in the movies. In my line of work you have to know your way around such problems. That’s what I do, solve problems. My line of work began many years ago and has only become more and more dangerous with each passing year. This is just the newest crime scene in a string of homicides for the night. This is the fourth, and counting. The police are gathered in the street below, blocking all entrances to the building… Unless you are me.

Some call me the Dark Knight, some stick to the old-faithful moniker of Batman. I’m not sure what I would call myself. I think I would choose the name Bruce, the one given to me by my parents. No matter what I’m called, I’m anything but normal. I’ve spent many years developing not only my physical prowess, but my mind as well. When you are a caped crusader in Gotham City you need a little luck also.

I enter the building unseen, sticking to the shadows and moving without sound. I drop through the skylight with a light flap as my cape drapes itself around me. I’m crouched to the floor and in the middle of the conference room. There is still the stench of burning flesh in the air. The floor is covered with a yellow dust that must be from a fire hydrant. There are footprints all around and I can just see that the cops of Gotham have again messed up my crime scene.

I’m sure Bullock would have a different view of that statement, in fact had the smell not tipped me off I might think all this dust is from the powder off Bullock’s doughnuts. Bullock’s a good cop, overweight and with a heavy dislike for me but I think he admires me under all that flab.

I’ll have to ask Jim for the files on this case as well. Jim Gordon is the Commissioner of the Gotham Police Force and has been a good friend for years. If there were one man that could figure out who I was without using superpowers, it would be Jim. I’ve seen the case files on all three of the previous incidents; I’ll need to see this one as well.

The room is fairly large with several tables making a “U” in the room. I’m standing at the top of the “U”, in the center is where Mary P. Connely died. Surveying the room, I spot more than one fire hydrant hanging on the walls, yet the furthest one is the one that’s missing. I check the closer two and both are fully charged. It could mean nothing… It could mean everything. The tables are covered with the yellow discharge. I check the seats also finding nothing but gum stuck under them and all but one covered by the same yellow discharge. I need to know who was in that seat.

****

Jim is always one of the last to leave the scene of a crime. He’s waiting for me when I arrive unnoticed.

“The files.” I said from behind him, it wasn’t a request.

After catching his breath Jim says. “One day you’ll scare me so bad that Bullock will have you downtown on homicide charges.”

Jim isn’t serious of course, but another thing I’ve trained is my poker face. “Files.”

“Here,” He holds them up as I take them from his hand he continued. “The woman is… never mind. You know that already.” The last part was meant to be under his breath. “She was giving a pitch to the members present and according to everyone in the room she just burst into flames.”

I’m paying him little attention that he can tell. I know this aggravates him.

“You don’t believe that,” Jim asked. “Do you?”

“How many?”

Jim let a heavy breath escape his mouth before he continued. “There were 12 people total including the victim. 8 men and 4 women.” He turned and pointed out a man wrapped in a gray blanket with the initials G.G.P.D. on it. “He’s the man that used the fire extinguisher, name’s Henry Doyle.”

As Jim turns back he realizes I’m no longer where I was, only the file is there. He stammers for a second, he was going to continue. He looked up and around but never spotted me, which is funny since I could have struck him with a batarang while blindfolded from this range. He steps off muttering about the way I always leave, stopping briefly to stoop over to get the file I left behind.

****

I arrive at the Doyle residence an hour before he shows up. I’ve had time to investigate him; he’s your average upstanding citizen. He’s got quite a gun collection though, and according to the computer he has a license to carry. I hate guns. I’m waiting for him as he enters the bedroom. Henry’s been in his living room, bathroom and kitchen without noticing me. I have patience, that’s another thing that keeps me ahead of this sick twisted game I’m involved in.

Been standing here without being noticed now for a good ten minutes. He makes a couple phone calls talking about the incident he was at this evening during which his voice is breaking and he’s tearful. He steps in the bathroom and starts putting water on his face, leaning over his sink. The bathroom is small; the doorway barely lets me through. When he looks up into his mirror he sees me.

“Oh shit!” Doyle says falling backward striking his head on the tub.

I don’t move to help him, just trying to keep from breaking the exterior people expect from the Bat. “Henry Doyle, tell me about tonight.”

“Holy shit! What the hell’s your problem sneaking up on people?! How long have you been in--” Henry never got to finish his sentence. I reached down grabbing his collar and lifted him to his feet.

“Tonight?” I said in my sternest voice. It comes out sounding like gravel in a fish bowl, even to me. I turn my back on him and go into his bedroom.

“I… I was just there, ya’ know?” Doyle says following me into his bedroom. “Mary just burst… Mary’s the woman that--”

I give him a hard look tilting my head to look down at him. He’s a small man and not nearly smart enough to have pulled this off. “I know.”

“Right… right… why wouldn’t you know I mean you’re--” Doyle gazes up at me and has this look on his face like he was a cat and I just stepped on his tail. “Mary!”

You mean I might actually get something from this guy? Unbelievable. But that’s why you have to follow up every lead you have. I try to teach that to my “kids” but they’re still learning.

“Mary, just burst into flames. I was the closest to the hydrant.” Doyle collapsed into tears onto his bed.

“There was no heat was there?” I said this while looking like I’m scanning his room.

Truth be told, I’m looking at him through reflections and the corner of my eye. People tend to let their armor crack just a hint when you aren’t staring directly at them.

“I don’t under--” Doyle started.

I cut him off. “You felt no heat from the body.”

“I never thought--” Again I cut Doyle off. “Yes or no Henry.”

“No… no… there was no heat, how did you--”

“Who was it sitting across from you?” I ignored his question.

The answer he looked for was nothing he could comprehend. Basic science even says that a fire like that would cause some of his hair to be singed. Yet it wasn’t. Henry was the only one that reacted trying to save her. Everyone else was too busy trying to get out of the room, with the exception of Henry and the person in that seat.

“What do you mean? Across from me was Mary.” Doyle’s eyes are starting to clear, but have this look of pure confusion.

“Mary was standing in the middle, she was not sitting. Who sat across from you on the other side of the conference table?” Once I have a name, I’ll have something else to go on. I tried the security tape already. There was no one sitting in that chair according to the tape and it wasn’t doctored.

“Johnson… Doug Johnson.” He stammered. Doyle had his head in his hands. “I’ve never met him. Nice guy, quiet though never spoke a word.”

Doug Johnson… Okay I have a name.

“Did he talk to anyone? Mary perhaps.” This is starting to fall into place.

“Yeah,” Doyle started. “He whispered something to her and she smiled… I think they might have--”

I never heard anymore, I was already on my way to the car.

****

No Doug Johnson, I’m not surprised. I’ve heard and seen a lot of weird things in my life. I’ve never met a pyrokinetic. I think now this guy has a sick sense of humor also, Doug Johnson… John Doe. I checked that name also, nothing. But I’m sure that’s what he was trying for. Trying to make a name in my city, with people like the Joker he’ll need to try harder. I will catch him, but will I before he strikes again?

I head over to the Connely home.

The police haven’t been over to her apartment yet. The bathroom window is a tight fit, I drop into her bathroom and scour it for anything that may help. I don’t want the police to see that I’ve been here. I walk into the biggest mess I’ve ever seen in my life; she called it her bedroom more than likely. Even Dick was never this bad as a kid. There are clothes everywhere, I don’t think the cops would know I was here even if I trashed the place. This isn’t from someone doing just that; this is from Mary. There are a few pictures and personal belongings, but nothing of any help.

I decide to go over the other murder scenes. Aside from the fact that the victims are all doing things to better the community, they have no connection I can see; maybe that’s the point. A name like John Doe is very impersonal; maybe his victims are impersonal also. Why do all the nut jobs come to Gotham? Clark barely gets anything remotely close to what I receive here. If this guy is just randomly attacking people, that makes him extremely dangerous. And the fact that this guy isn’t on any sort of video camera is even weirder.

It’s almost daybreak; I need to get a couple hours sleep. I have a meeting in the morning with Fox. I’ll need to speak with Jim also. The victims have all been no one of consequence, yet all are well known in the community. That’s their only connection. None of them have ever met each other from what I could tell. I looked at the phone bills, checked bank files, nothing on paper to say they knew each other.

But there was one thing.

A phone number.

I found it by hitting star 69 on each of the victim’s phones. The number belongs to the Gotham City Police Station. This lead is anorexic, but it’s a lead. The police wouldn’t have called these numbers to tell the deceased’s family over the phone that they wouldn’t be coming to dinner. This call was placed before the victims died. Not only do I think that, the operator tells me that. Star 69 gives you the time of the call. Each call was placed about twenty minutes before the people became victims.

You can always count on things to take the strangest turn possible here in Gotham. The police station isn’t the most secure place in the world. But how can this guy get in without being seen? A stay thought strikes a cord in my mind like a finely tuned piano wire.

What if there is no Doug Johnson? What if there is no John Doe? What if there is no guy at all?

Yep… you can always count on Gotham…

I get back to the cave when daylight is just striking the horizon. It looks like another sleepless night in Gotham. I have to meet Lucius at 8 this morning downtown. It’s hard to be myself; it’s hard to be Bruce when you’ve spent a whole night being I… being the Bat. The whole persona of the Bat is a strong emotion that has to be held at all times. You never have time to smile or joke, which is one aspect of Dick I’ve tried to train him to watch.

His mouth runs at times he should be concentrating. He says he concentrates better when he’s dancing and being himself. I’ve had to learn to accept that, but Dick being himself is essentially the wall between us. He’s my first child and I only want what’s best for him. But having caused my parents death at such a young age, the only father I’ve really known is Alfred. As great as Alfred is, I’m not sure he gave me what I needed growing up. I don’t think anyone would have been able to give me what I needed. I needed my parents alive, as did Dick. Knowing you can’t provide the one thing that someone you love needs is a painful thing. One I hope Dick’s never falls prey to.

I pull into the Cave and Alfred is there. Alfred’s always cheerful, proper and able to pry a smile on the face of granite that is the Bat. He makes it easier to be Bruce. The dual roles I play in my life cause a terrible strain on my psyche. I started my crusade against crime to stop anyone from having to go through what I went through. But the Bat couldn’t save Dick’s parents either, only Bruce could try to make things easier on him. I’ve felt a connection with him from that moment on. In essence Alfred is my father, I’m Dick’s and Alfred is his grandfather that spoils him so. I think Alfred has picked up on the mistakes he made in my childhood and tries not to repeat them. That’s what makes Alfred so special. It couldn’t have been that easy on him to raise a child by himself. For that, I will always be there for Alfred.

Alfred gives me the standard greeting along with his dry humor. “Good evening Master Bruce, or should that be morning?” Alfred smiles what I call his polite smile, only someone around Alfred as much as I would see a difference in his smiles at all.

“Morning,” My words came out harsher than I meant them, Alfred always seems to understand though “Wake me in 2 hours, I need to--”

“Yes sir, Mr. Fox called last night to make sure I knew about your appointment this morning.”

“Thanks Alfred.” I smile like a child that was just caught in the act of stealing the last cookie. The way Alfred looks out for me makes me feel loved. That doesn’t happen with too many people. Although I’m a little distressed that Lucius felt it necessary to call and confer with Alfred to make sure I got to the meeting on time. I might need to consider giving my Bruce half, giving myself, more time. Time to be me.

Past Alfred and almost to the top of the stairs I call back over my shoulder without looking back. “Thank you Alfred.”

“Understood Master Bruce.” I hear Alfred’s voice strong but with love.

That’s the voice I need to learn. After all this time Alfred still has a lot to teach me. I know he understood that I didn’t mean “thanks” just for tonight. I meant it for his life, for my life. I don’t even have time to shower, like a kid with too much power over his parents; I’m dropping clothes along the way. Hang my belt on the banister, I climb up the stairs and feel the weight of the night pushing down on me. I climb into bed and I’m pretty sure I was technically asleep when I climbed the stairs.

Today is another night for the Bat.

****

Gordon is out of his office. It’s the next evening and I’m searching the police files on the four crime scenes. Doing crimes to solve crimes, I sometimes wonder when I started to cross the boundary of right and wrong. I don’t think it ever existed in my mind, I’m only here to cleanse the city. I come here when I’m at a loss for what else to do. Jim keeps good records on things and has his men do the same. Even Bullock, who hates doing paper work, still takes good notes on the scene. Things I sometimes can use to help me with my own investigation.

This morning went off without a hitch. Alfred woke me just in time to get my shower, dressed and eat breakfast. He drove as I read the paper about the previous night’s excursions. I’m always a little surprised to see Batman in the paper, but funny enough I’m always surprised when Bruce isn’t. The media seems to manage to get everything wrong. I think it must be a skill to be so inept at your job. I wish the criminals in this town would take a cue from the media. It would make my job easier.

The paper said Bruce was involved in some hot fling with the latest hottest model. Apparently I flew her in last night for a date at the Manor. Truth is I’ve never met this woman, but I like the publicity. Makes me think I might be less connected with the Bat the more people think of me as the swinger; but that same mentality is what keeps the women at arms length from me. My press puts off the ones I could care for. The ones that seek me out because of the press are women I’d rather not even meet. “Ahhh, the sacrifices I make for the city.” I think to myself.

My meeting with Fox went well. Lucius is always looking out for the companies’ best interest. So when he says to be at a meeting, I listen. He must be the only one that gets a paycheck from me who doesn’t think I’m a fool. Lucius runs things; he just needs me there sometimes to prove he has power to the people he has to deal with. Frankly I think Fox gets the short end of the stick, I tangle with the Joker, Clayface, Crock, etc. and he gets some Lawyer type. No matter what you can say about the lunatics in my city – some people would include me in this lot – they at least have some morals. No matter how askew, they have them. I have yet to meet a Lawyer that had morals. Harvey Dent doesn’t count, he’s fallen into the “lunatic” side – I would venture to say long before he became Two-Face – no matter how great of a lawyer he once was.

Scanning the files I see a small connection at each of the scenes just moments before Jim enters his office. I heard his voice moments before and had time to put the files back on his desk before he entered the office. I was out on the ledge before he entered. He never likes to see me in his office, the way he reacted at his house the one time I showed up was even worse. So I meet him here and he accepts it. Gordon knows I’m here to purge the city and that I’m able to get things accomplished the police can’t. He believes this city needs me as much as I do. I would venture to go as far and call him a close friend.

I hear Gordon. “You might as well come in, it’s obvious you’re here.”

Wait a moment, he can’t be talking about me.

“Bats, come on in. You obviously need to talk about something.” He sounds pleased somehow.

I drop through the window with no noise. “Gordon.”

He has a big smile across his face. He had finally caught me somehow. He knew I was there, I’m sure I put everything back the way it was. I’m amazed he discovered me. How could he have done it? I can’t let him know how surprised I am so I play it down.

“So,” Gordon starts stroking his mustache. “You’ve seen the files. Do you have anything?” He’s relishing having caught me. It’s in his eyes; even the glass that covers them can’t hide that fact.

“Nothing I can share.” I think my voice was slightly higher than I meant it.

The surprise must be showing. His smile just got bit wider and brighter. Gordon is not the type of man to smile that often. I’ve seen him smile at his family, this is different… it’s more of a smirk. “Bullock tends to think that this is the work of a team, perhaps a gang.” Gordon sits at his desk sipping his coffee. He won’t say anything about how he caught me if I don’t, and he knows I won’t ask.

“No. It’s… different.” I cross the room scooping the files off his desk.

I stand behind his office door with my back to the wall. If someone were to come in, they would only see him at his desk. From this perspective I can look at Gordon and out the window behind him. I usually choose this spot when we meet here. When he chooses the time we meet on the roof, here is when I choose the time.

“Care to explain?” He starts sitting forward in his chair a bit. “No, of course you don’t.” He smiles lighting a cigar he pulled from his top drawer of his desk. Then he drops the lighter back into his shirt pocket.

“Jim, I have a lead that may mean a cop is involved.”

His cigar falls in his lap and fear crosses his face like a shadow in broad daylight. “Shit!” He shouts jumping back in his chair and swiping at cigar, knocking it to the floor.

The door opens with urgency. “You okay Jim?!” From the voice it’s Montoya.

“Yeah, yeah… uhmmm… call my wife and tell her I’ll be late tonight.” Gordon never looks at her.

He’s still looking at me with that look on his face. It’s no wonder she tries to slam the door on me while she rolls into the room drawing her gun. I stop the door with my boot and it closes slowly clicking when the door met the jamb. She’s pointing her pistol at me. I can see the laser pointing towards me. I hate guns.

“New gun Montoya?” I say with as little emotion I can muster. I never like guns being pointed at me. Usually when one is pointing my way I make the person holding it realize his or her mistake. In this case I can’t, she’s doing her job. No matter how much I dislike it.

“Madre! I almost shot you!” Montoya says. I don’t think she realizes she still has her pistol trained my way.

It’s remained there for longer than I liked. I just shook my head at her. She never would have gotten a shot off. I know that, that’s what makes me good at what I do.

“Montoya,” Gordon’s face is missing its usual color and he’s around the desk standing over her. “Thanks, but don’t ever enter my office without my say so.”

She lifts herself off the floor and slides the safety on. Putting her gun back in her holster she gives me a small smile, walking back towards the door never looking at Jim. “Yes sir.” She opens the door and she winks at me saying again. “I almost shot you.”

I nodded an acknowledgment of her leaving the room. “You almost wasted a bullet.”

She just laughed and walked out the door closing it behind her. I could hear her laughing as she walked away from the door.

Jim just smiled at me. “She’s our best shot.”

“A good one I’m sure.” I walked back to Gordon’s desk dropping his files on his desk. “I can’t say more till I’m sure, just keep your glasses clean.”

Gordon never turns around. His shoulders are slumped and his hands are trembling a bit. “My god.”

I crush his cigar with the heel of my left boot before I leave. I'll have to find out later how he knew I had been inside. I've just hit him with bad news that goes back to his first years on the force. The possibility of a crooked cop.

Gordon never turns around.

****

I’m not even sure if it’s a cop. It’s a phone call placed from the station, that doesn’t mean it has to be a cop. Gordon will keep his eyes peeled, that’s useful on its own. I think I should call Dick in on this one, if this is a pyrokinetic I’ll need the assistance. Dick’s a good detective; anger just clouds his head. He’s full of it; it exudes from him like it’s a piece of him. It’s almost like he wouldn’t be himself without that anger brewing beneath the surface. He just can’t seem to let go of that anger. I wish he would. That anger will be his downfall one-day, I’m sure of it. I think I better leave him out. He could be helpful, but why drag him into this. There’s nothing I can’t handle. Besides I could always call the Planet if things get too hairy.

Whoever John Doe hits next one thing is for sure. It will be a public figure… a public figure… a public figure… I don’t believe I’ve never put this together before. It may not be his next hit, but for sure this will be his biggest one.

I gotta call Dick.

****

“You’ve got Dick!” Comes the voice through the phone loudly and full of cheer.

“Gotham needs you again.” My voice is that gravely fishbowl again.

“How come whenever I’m happy, I’m never surprised to get a call from you?” The voice’s cheer is gone and replaced with sarcasm and anger.

“I’ll send the plane for you.” I’m not interested in fighting with him.

“How come it’s never you that needs me?” His voice comes across with a hint of sadness. Dick is full of emotions, like me. But unlike me he can’t contain them when he’s in pain, not emotional pain anyway.

I exude a breath that comes out more audible than I would have liked. “Grayson, I need your assistance. But more than that Gotham needs your help.”

“There,” Dick says slightly pleased with himself for forcing me to say something. “Was that so friggen hard?”

“I’ll send the plane for you.” Gravely fishbowl again.

Before I hang up on him I can just make out him saying. “You never were good at convers--”

Dick arrives dressed to kill. He got rid of the Robin outfit long ago and now another wears that title, but is pale in comparison. Tim Drake will never be a major hero like Dick will. Grayson is almost there now, if he would just lose that anger he’d be as close to my level as any one of the J.L.A. members. I’m not full of myself… I’m that good. I just hope my being that good and Dick being a close second is enough to stop whatever this is we will be facing.

“Master Dick.” Alfred tried to say in his usual tone, but there was no denying he was pleased to see Dick, as Dick climbed out of the Batwing.

“Alfred!” Dick, dressed as Nightwing, says as happy as I can remember seeing him. Then he hugs Alfred.

I’m sitting at the computer adding up all the clues and going over my files and the police files on each case. I can see Dick and Alfred in the reflection of the computer screen. “Dick, nice to see you again. I wish it were under--”

“Different circumstances.” He finished for me. “Different circumstances never exist where we’re concerned… There’s always something. Right?”

There’s no denying the pain in his voice and that cracks my shell just a bit. I just never show it. I love him as if he were my biological son. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dick does his half-smirk that means he does know. But unlike Alfred it’s easy to see the differences in his smiles. “What do we got?”

“Here,” I said getting up from the chair. “You play catch-up. I have a phone call to make… I’m sure Alfred will take care of your needs.”

“Catch-up, huh? Easier for us younger guys to do that!” Dick’s acid tongue never stops. He bounds in the chair almost before I was out of it. “No offense Alfred.”

“None taken sir. Care for some Tea?” Alfred says with no hint of being hurt by Dick’s barb that was meant for me.

I leave the room to make my call, far away from prying ears…

****

“Thanks Clark.” I say hanging up the phone.

“Boy, I never get a thank you!” I don’t know how Dick snuck up on me; maybe I am getting a little old. Or maybe I just thought my privacy would be respected. “Calling in the big guns are ya?”

“Yes.” My cowl is pulled back away from my face now as I turn to face Dick for the first time since he got here.

“Damn, you haven’t slept in a few days.”

“I’m honored you care.” I say with a smile I can’t contain sliding across my face.

“Nope,” Dick winks at me. “Just being a detective. I ever tell you I learned from the best?”

“Not in words.” The smile has grown.

Somehow I feel younger. Dick’s presence is always enough to make me feel better. His enthusiasm is what drives him if you were to ask him. I know better, it’s his anger. But when he’s Dick Grayson all the anger seems to have disappeared. And even though he’s dressed like Nightwing, and I like Batman, at this moment we’re father and son.

“Love the decorator,” Dick says again in his youthful and joking way. “What is this? Antique Hermit?”

I just continue to smile. He’s really quite something. I’m as proud of him as I wish my father had the chance to be of me.

“This is bad, huh?” He says letting his exterior show the true situation.

“The worst kind of enemy--” I sighed.

“Is the one that has nothing to lose.” Dick finished my thought for the second time tonight.

“Yes,” I sat down in my recliner. “Worst of all, we’re not even sure of what we are facing.”

“But we’ll face it together.” Dick smiled and came and sat on the arm of the chair.

I just smiled.

****

Two more of theses strange homicides have happened in the past 24 hours. Each leaving no further clues than any of the previous four. I’ve done all I can to track this phenomenon, yet no matter how good a detective I may be there must be something I’m missing. I can’t see what it is, but I’ve never failed to see a connection before. Even if it had to happen after the fact. Hopefully I’ll know what to do when this goes down. I’ve been tracking what I think would be a most probable victim, unknown to the victim of course. I can’t interfere, I might change things and then I wouldn’t know what to look for.

I contacted Oracle yesterday, when I needed the taps on the phones. She’s been a big help even through such a disturbing time for her. She’s also been monitoring the situation for me. That’s a big help it allows me the “movement” needed to maneuver in my city.

Dick’s been doing his own scouting work. He was the first on the scene of the last victim by happenstance. He beat the cops there and was able to actually go over the crime scene before the police even got there. The smell of burnt human flesh was stronger, aside from that nothing was any different from the other scenes.

Alfred’s been maintaining a vigil on the police band. He’s been monitoring it every waking moment. He’s even lapsed in his duties around the house, which is fine with me. Sometimes he works too hard for the little things, taking time to annihilate dust particles. Now he can help me get rid of this new plague that has grasped my city.

This is my city and someone is killing its community leaders. This John Doe has such a tight grasp on all of Gotham’s community leaders. They’ve started taking unscheduled vacations.

Perhaps what this Doe needs is a larger target.

“Are you out of your mind?!” Dick shouts at me as if I had no clue of the implications of what I just said.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred says from Dick’s side. “I would never say such a thing as Master Dick has, but he does have a point.”

“Alfred I need some time with Dick.” I said smiling as politely as I could.

“Sir, I have to say--” Alfred started.

“Uhmmm, coffee? How about you Dick?” I try to sound as flippant as possible. “I can use the extra caffeine.”

“Jesus, Bruce! Maybe we should switch names here? You sure are acting like a Dick.” There goes Grayson letting his emotions get the better of his mouth.

“Right away Master Bruce.” Alfred said sheepishly after Dick’s explosion. Then backed out of the room closing the door.

“I assume you don’t mean the Sherlock Holmes kind?” He’s not the only one with a good quip or two. I can usually only release myself this way in the privacy of my good friends, of which I have very few.

“You know what I mean.” Dick crosses his arms defiantly. He’s wearing a sweatshirt from his Academy and a pair of shorts.

“Look, we both know Gordon is going to be a victim. I can’t in good conscious let that happen.” I get up from behind my desk and walk around it.

“I know that, but we know nothing of--”

“All the more reason for me to be the center of attention.” I interrupt him again.

“You’re batty. Anyone ever tell you that?” He’s smiling at his own dry wit.

“Not in words.” I repeat my words from yesterday.

Dick walks towards the window and is looking over the grounds of the Manor. He lets out a breath heavily and says almost too lowly for me to hear. “What if I’m not up for this?”

“There’s only one way to tell.” I know he cares but it’s moments like these that make me fully understand our true relationship.

“Bab’s came up with this idea didn’t she?”

“Actually,” The response came as a surprise, even to me. “No. It was something Clark said to me that made me think of it. Although helping ease Oracle’s anxiety is a bonus.”

Dick is smiling; I can see his reflection off the glass. “The Boy Scout actually helped?” “He has his moments.”

“So we are going to do this?” Dick said turning towards me. It looks like a weight has lifted off his shoulders. He’s no longer slumped over, arms still folded but his chest is puffed out.

“I’ll call Lucius, sir.” Alfred said walking in the room with my coffee.

“Hey, where’s mine?” Dick lifts his arms in a questioning manor.

“You never said you wanted anything, Master Dick.” Another of Alfred’s smiles that no one can tell is his sarcasm smile. On most people it would be considered a smirk, but Alfred’s voice is so monotone you can’t ever tell what his true intention is.

“Thank you Alfred.” I say smiling. “You can take the rest of the night off.”

“Hey?! I’d like something to drink too!” Dick said in such a way that I had to laugh.

Smiling I said. “Good night Alfred.”

Okay… it was more of a smirk.

****

Gotham City Police have the road closed off. A crowd the size of a Thanksgiving Day parade is gathered to listen. News vans are parked across the street, guardrails doing very little to contain the crowd after my announcement. The podium is shaking with the chants of the crowd. Fox steps towards me and takes the podium back.

“Show off.” Lucius whispers in my ear while covering the microphone with his left hand.

“My fans demand it.” I chuckle and back away from the podium.

Leaning into the mike Lucius continues to electrify the crowd further. “How about a hand for Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises!”

The crowd is so loud my ears actually hurt. I’m waving with one hand while being led away from the crowd by the Montoya and Bullock among other officers with the other.

“Friggen lunatic,” Bullock says to himself thinking I can’t hear him over the crowd. “Going to get himself killed.”

Climbing into the Limo waiting at the curb. I hear Grayson from the driver’s seat. “Some show, what do you do for an encore?”

“You’ll have to wait and see… You’ll have to wait and see.”

Nightwing went out to see what information he could gather from the “regulars”. But before I could make another unscheduled appointment at Gordon’s office, a call from Barbara came into the cave through a secure channel.

“I appreciate what you’ve done.” Her voice was small and tinny. “But doesn’t this just split the attention we have on Dad?”

“I’ve thought about that Oracle.” Her thoughts are meant in a good way but her emotions cloud her judgment. “Batman will be there.”

“But I thought for this ploy to work--”

“Bruce will be out in public. Batman will be watching over your father.” She’ll catch on, I’m sure of it.

“Okay, have you thought about a therapist? I can get a good name for you if you wish.” It’s funny how you can actually hear her smile. Barbara’s voice changes just slightly when she smiles.

“Batman will--”

She cut me off. “Is he ready for such a thing? I mean I’d rather have you there.” She knows.

If someone has to be the bait, I’d rather it be me. That’s why I’ve chosen this setting. It seems the most logical. Why wouldn’t John Doe go after such a public target?

“Batman will be there.” I repeated.

“I see.” She sounded slightly puzzled.

I could have sworn she grasped this.

“Mind if he has company?” She said before I could respond.

“The Canary? I thought she was in Cuba?”

“How did you know?!” Barbara sounded completely surprised.

At least one of the Gordons doesn’t have something over me. I’m still going to find out how Jim knew I was in his office. The thing is I didn’t know he was trying to catch me. Now that I know, there are a few things I can look for.

“How long till she can get here?” I asked trying to avoid the question.

“If the Batwing picks her up?” She asked.

“If the Batwing picks her up.” I agreed.

“Yesterday.” Her voice had that smile hidden in it again.

“Nightwing?” I asked trying to hide my surprise.

“Yep.” Her voice is no longer is trying to hide the smile. “Guess you still need Oracle to be brought up to speed. She’s been monitoring the usual suspects, I told her to stay out of your way till I got to speak with you.”

“That explains why he wanted that assignment then.” I actually like the fact that the “family” sticks together. I just wish they didn’t feel the need to leave me out of the loop. I guess what’s good for the goose…

“I’m going to have to talk to you kids about lying to me.”

“Aw, your no fun.” Her voice is small again, she must be moving about. “By the way, how’s the Boy Wonder? He still being left in the dark?”

She’s got me there. I’ve left Tim out of the loop from day one. He’s seen a lot of stuff, but something this dangerous he’s not ready for.

Her smile is back. “Oracle out.”

****

It’s early in the evening now. I’ve spoken with Nightwing and Canary. They’ve talked to the usual suspects and even tried to put the fear of the Bat into some of them. But all are as thickheaded bulls. Either they don’t know anything or they are more afraid of John Doe than the Bat.

I’m dressed, as I feel most comfortable, as Batman. I’m waiting for Gordon to come back into his office. I’ve looked at his files of the two cases over the past 24 hours and I’ve searched his computer for anything that could help me. I respect his privacy and this is going farther than I ever have, as to me invading his privacy. But this is for his life, and mine.

Gordon walks in; I’m behind the door. He closes the door without looking where he’s going. His posture is slumped and weighed down. The news of possibly a cop being involved has really dragged him down. I shouldn’t have told him. He has kept the fact that it could be a cop away from the others here in the department. There was nothing in any of the files that I saw. He breathes heavily and leans to inspect his desk with his left hand holding his glasses on.

“Don’t worry, I’ve put them back.” I say locking the door. I don’t need another incident like what happened with Montoya. It took a lot from me to refrain from removing that gun from her.

“Jesus!” Jim says straightening so fast he bumps his head on his desk light. “Don’t you ever knock?”

He still hasn’t even looked to see that it’s me. But I’m sure the gravely fishbowl gives it away. Gordon walks around his desk and sits heavily into his chair. His weight just dropped in the chair as if his strength just left him.

“What is it this time?” He said taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes with his right hand. “The Pope may be involved too?”

“You may be a target.” The fishbowl continues.

“Shit.” Jim tosses his glasses to the desk and leans back in his chair, now looking at me. “How come I never hear good news from you?”

“Jim you are being watched over. No harm will befall you.” I sound even more convincing then I feel.

“Yeah?” He said looking up at the ceiling. “I guess if that’s the worst you have to tell me this time I’m getting off lightly.”

I say nothing. I think he needs this episode to end worse than I do.

“I haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary.” His eyes are closed and his breathing is slow. “Well, Harvey seems to have lost some weight, but aside from that.” A smile line appears around the corners of his mustache.

“This is going to get worse, isn’t it?” Gordon asked opening his eyes to see I was no longer standing there.

I can see his reflection off his computer. He’s still smiling and he reaches for the phone. “Montoya. Get in here. I’ve got an assignment for you and Harv.”

I leave the window and arrive at the rooftop a block away where the surveillance on Gordon is carried out.

“No harm will befall you?” Nightwing says to me with a passive look on his face. “You’ve got to start watching recent films, people don’t talk that way anymore.”

“I don’t think they ever did.” Canary chimes in.

“Let me remind you both I’m in charge.” If anyone else were to hear this, they may take it as a breach in the order rank here. But I know Dick, he’s keeping things as light as he can. It’s his way of dealing with things. Rather than letting things sink in, he gives his quips.

Canary holds her left ear. “Oracle says she’s going to be in charge of team B.”

By team B she means she’ll be the one heading things up here near her father. Bruce needs to make public appearances anyway. “Fine. Make sure Nightwing has--”

“Oracle says she’s way ahead of you.” Nightwing says holding his left ear. A neat little gold Canary is hanging from his ear.

“Thank the Lord Batman wears a Cowl.” I said. “I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing one of those.”

“Fame, ain’t it a bitch?” Grayson said almost as monotone as Alfred.

I need to get him away from the TV set in his spare time. “I’ll be in touch.”

I can still hear Bullock’s comment in my head as I leave the crew to its task.

****

Alfred is waiting for me as usual when I get home. I have no idea how he does it. No matter what time I get home he’s waiting. I guess that’s what makes him Alfred.

“May I take your cape and cowl, Master Bruce?” He’s way too pleased with this.

“You are enjoying this aren’t you?” I remove the cape and cowl and toss them at him with a smile.

“Sir, I’m shocked.” He makes a feint at being shocked. “I’m just glad to see you getting some much deserved rest.”

“That’s where you’re wrong Alfred.” I shake my left index finger at him. “Bruce needs to go out tonight and be at that fund-raiser Wayne Enterprises set up for tonight.”

“I just meant you get to be yourself, Master Bruce.” He’s already got another Batsuit on the side for Dick.

****

It’s funny that as much as Alfred knows me he still doesn’t know what drives me and that I am myself when I’m the Bat. I feel comfortable as the Bat, as Bruce that comfort is gone. I’m not able to be myself. If I even know what that entails anymore. I’ve carried this double life for too long now that I may have lost what I actually am.

“Thanks Alfred. I’ll be taking the Porsche tonight.”

“I have it gassed and waiting for you just outside the front door, sir.” He says following me up the stairs to the Manor. “Master Dick said he should be here within the hour.”

“Give him the keys to the Car.”

“Consider it done Master Bruce.” He says as if he knew that was going to be asked. “Mr. Fox said he was going to have some of Gotham’s finest there in plain clothes. For your protection of course.”

“Protection.” I say tossing Alfred a wave. “Bullock going to protect the Buffet table?”

“Might I suggest, Master Bruce, you keep that thought to yourself at tonight’s event?” Alfred’s got to be laughing inside. He has to be.

I know I am.

****

Porsche is doing 120 mph; after all it’s no Batmobile. In the passenger seat there’s a suitcase, which holds my spare Batsuit and spare utility belt. I’m decked out in a suit Alfred picked out, he swore it was the “in” thing now a days. It’s pretty sad when I have to ask Alfred for advice on what to wear, but he’s never let me down before. Since I don’t get out that often I never seem to be in the know on fashion trends, I wear a Batsuit after all.

I’ve got my cell phone in my pocket and an earpiece that keeps me connected with Oracle. She can reach me when she needs to. There’s a mike on my lapel; it looks like a gold pin. There’s a second pin on the right side, but it’s just a pin. There’s a locator in my shoes and a camera in my belt buckle. The phone is for Alfred; the earpiece connects me with Oracle only. If Nightwing, I mean “Batman” needs to get in touch with me she’ll have to relay the message. I’m going to need my eyes and ears open and too much info flowing in my ear could distract me.

Needless to say, I think I’m well prepared.

The satellite link-up just beneath my dash has me in contact with Oracle and the others while I drive.

“Oracle.” I wait for her response. She has a lot riding on her shoulders right now, but if one woman in the world could handle that…

“Oracle here.” Her voice is short and to the point. She has a lot on her mind.

“The ballroom, what’s the damage?” I try to keep up with her.

“Two entry ways, one north, one west. The entire south wall consists of windows and there are about five skylights. All in the center.” She’s thorough; I’ll give her that.

“Coverage?”

“Right now, Bullock is roaming the crowd looking for any trouble. Montoya is covering the main entry way… west door. There’s a cruiser sitting outside the north entrance with two. And about three more inside sticking to the walls, all accounted for.” I have no clue how she did that in one breath, but she did.

“Gordon?”

“At the office. He received a call from some government organization, I’ve been trying to track them but nothing yet, so he’s waiting for them to arrive.” I can hear some background noise but otherwise her voice is clear with no hint of a smile.

“Nightwing and Canary?”

“Would it kill you to call me Batman?” Dick’s voice is full of cheer; he’s relishing this.

“It might, I’m driving pretty fast.” A feeling of family surrounds me. I haven’t felt that for awhile.

“Canary is in plain clothes posing as his secretary.” Dick says.

“Executive Assistant!” I can hear Canary shout as Oracle giggles.

I’m glad some of us can take this lightly. Am I the only one nervous?

“Batman is sticking to the shadows and lurking like a peeping tom as always.” Dick is enjoying this way too much.

“Don’t get used to it kid.” I smile.

Silence from him for once, I knew the “kid” comment would sting.

“I’m about five minutes away… Team A… out.”

“Bruce! Glad you could make it!” Lucius actually sounds surprised to see me.

A cheer erupts from the crowd outside as I step out of the Boxster with my briefcase.

I give a wave and do the standard greeting to the crowd. If you’ve seen the Academy Awards you know what I mean. You wave and smile for the cameras, then quickly get inside where you can talk about how you hate being where you are.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I say in his ear. I’m not sure if he could hear me over the crowd though.

We leave the crowd behind and enter the ballroom to an audible applause. I spot Montoya first. She’s dressed in a long dress that leaves a lot to the imagination and is still sexy. I should take fashion tips from her. Her hair is done and she looks a lot different than she does in her uniform. She’s smiling at some blond guy, but anyone could tell she’s paying him no attention whatsoever. She gives me a small wave with her left hand. She receives a nod from me in response.

“Bruce, I’m ashamed… someone else has your eye?”

“Selena, how could that be?” I say turning left toward the voice with my brightest attempt at a smile.

“I’m surprised…. She’s a little plain for your taste.” She’s in probably the most expensive dress here; it’s definitely the most revealing. The police should be here on an indecency charge.

“Taste is in the eye of the beholder.” I chance a glance at the room spotting Harvey Bullock. And yes, he’s near the buffet.

“That’s beauty… taste is an acquired thing.” Selena tells me as if she was talking to a child, sweet and her pronunciation is exact.

“Both of which you have in abundance.” Said in my most sincere voice.

“Naturally.” She whispers dragging out the E sound at the end of the word.

“Selena, I really must get around to the rest of the crowd. Business. You understand, right?” I show as many teeth as possible, without being considered demented anyway.

“Naturally.” She replies the same way, then spinning on her heel she walks in a way only she can.

I watch her go. Her slinky dress is clinging and very expensive. Wonder where she “got” it? The dress fits her almost as closely as her Catwoman outfit, but not quite. My eyes follow her and there’s Bullock eyeing the buffet table again. Look around to see if I spot Renee, no sign of her. The blond guy is still where he stood before. He’s moved on to a red head this time.

People are coming up to me and shaking my hand, congratulating me on the new success. I pay no attention to them, Bruce does… but I don’t. I just scan over their heads for my protection. They may need help. I’m fairly sure I can handle this. Whatever happens I can’t let this spill into hurting others. It never has before, but Doe might get aggressive.

“Team A.” Oracle’s voice comes in clear and powerful. No sign of her smile.

I head toward the buffet where there are many people around. “Go.”

“The agents have arrived. One black female, Agent Smith, and one older white male also dubbed Agent Smith.” Her smile is definitely gone.

“Spooks.”

“That’s my guess… I’ll get back to you, Canary is sending.” With that she’s gone as fast as she appeared.

I’m guessing the volume was pumped up because of the surroundings here. There’s no way it can be drowned out here, must be pretty powerful. I’ll have to talk to Oracle about juicing up--

“Down!” I hear and am tackled quickly into the buffet table. I’m blind-sided and can’t see who it is. From the girth it must be Harvey, or Montoya has to go on a diet.

“Freeze! Gotham PD, drop the gun on the floor nice and gently.” It’s definitely Harvey from the booming tone. He loves to play hero.

“But I--” I hear a choked off voice.

“Gun? Harv, the man your looking for--” Bullock pushes my head down further.

Montoya comes out of nowhere and is standing above me. “Can I help you up sir?”

“Yeah, can you help me lose the extra 250 pounds? The meatballs really go right to my back!” Her legs are fabulous. Strong but feminine accented by her dark skin. Her smell is indescribable. I’ve never noticed her before. That uniform truly hides a lot.

“Pretty boy, I just saved your life.” Bullock helps me up from behind as Montoya kneels and helps me from the front.

I could have tossed Harvey off without a thought, but Bruce couldn’t. “But what will you… I mean we eat now?”

The people close enough to the scene nervously giggle. Montoya is wiping some sauce off my tie. “You saved Mister Wayne from a penlight.” She never looks at me, just a glint in her eye over my shoulder aimed at Harvey I would guess.

“Yes, all I was interest--” The choked voice again.

“You have the right to remain silent, I suggest you use it.” I turn just in time to see Bullock yank the young man off the floor by his hands, which are cuffed behind him.

“Officer, it’s a pen--” Renee starts her accent just barely noticeable. She gets it from her parents, she’s lived in Gotham long enough to have lost most of it. But it’s still there.

“Shut up lady. I have this.” Harvey walks the young man out very L.A.P.D.ish.

Three other cops leave with him, reading his rights. One scoops up the penlight.

“What the hell’s going on?” I ask out loud.

“Harvey’s doing us a favor.” Montoya whispers in my ear.

“Come with me Mister Wayne, I’ll lead you to a room where you can wash up.” She now tells me aloud.

I follow her and notice the eyes of Selena watching. I give her my most embarrassed grin and shrug. She just looks at Blondie and talks to him. He’s been searching for a date all night. It looks like he bit off more than he could chew this time.

****

Once we are in a washroom Montoya is all business handing me a Tuxedo. “Your butler gave us this. We staged that, Harvey is the most noticeable out of all of us.”

“What?” I’m as surprised as I sound.

“The guy with the pen light was a cop. Jenkins, he’s a meter-man. We needed someone unknown.”

It’s all starting to fall into place, yet I wonder why Alfred left me out of it. “What?” I don’t sound nearly as convincing this time.

“The guy with the light is a decoy. We needed to get rid of some of the cops.”

“Who’s left?” I ask her.

“You’re looking at her. I’m your date for the rest of the evening.” She gives me this smile that could kill. Her lips are perfect. Her teeth are perfect. Her body… I can’t believe how much that uniform hides.

“I guess I’m the lucky one then.” I smile. “Where do I change?”

“Right here. I’m not to let you out of my sight for the rest of the evening.” Her smile is deadly; her eyes narrow as she says. “Get to it ‘pretty boy’ I ain’t got all day.”

Taking my clothes off I think I owe someone for this.

How can I handle this with Renee around? She’s always been a good cop, but I can’t chance her life anymore then I can Gordon’s. They staged this scene to get rid of the cops in a public way. Let’s face it, Harvey Bullock stuck out like a sore thumb on Godzilla. No way you could miss him. So they ditch the cops making Doe think he has me. That’s what I want, let’s get this over with.

This John Doe has defeated me at every turn, never leaving behind anything more than a burnt corpse and eyewitnesses that don’t really remember him. I’m sick of this game; maybe everything is just making me sick. I’ve been doing this for too long now.

This battle I wage against evil is tremendous. It’s like trying to stop the waves from crashing on the beach armed with only a noodle strainer. There’s just no way it can be done. Yet I sit here and try, over and over and over. Determined that I can do this, with time and patience. Maybe Dick is right. Maybe I am batty.

Dressed and looking no where in Montoya’s class, but halfway decent, we make our entrance from the washrooms on the East Side of the room. The Buffet is replaced and the food –now garbage– is being cleaned up. Most of the mess is gone, just a few bits here and there. Montoya is on my arm as my ‘trophy’ date, the room is convinced we just met.

I’m beginning to think I just met her myself.

“Yeah, along with my Momma and Poppa I have a little brother Benny.” Montoya is just casually talking, but for once at one of these things I have someone to listen to. I can’t believe all this was hiding underneath that uniform.

“You’re extremely lucky to know your family Renee.” That came out much harder than I meant it. I only want her to realize how lucky she is.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry Mister Wayne, I should have realized--” She has the response everyone has. They want to say they’re sorry for what happened. But no one is to blame.

Only I am.

“Please Renee, call me Bruce. There’s no need for apologies. I’m the one that brought it up.” I stop and for once I’m not scanning the room, nor admiring her body, I’m looking in her eyes.

“Okay Bruce. You’re not giving me a line here are you?” She gives a smirk that possesses the same power as her smile.

“Not at all Renee, not at all.” She’s not my type generally. But since when do I have a ‘type’? I can’t remember the last time I actually enjoyed the company of a female that attracted me so.

“You know, if we both live through this,” She looks over my shoulder as if she spotted something, then right back to my eyes. “Maybe we could?”

“I may hold you up to that.”

I can’t get involved in feelings now.

I never allow myself feelings though. I could use the time off. With all this help in Gotham now, maybe? No! Remember the tide that awaits every night and the strainer in my briefcase. That is my life. As used to it as I am, it would be nice…

Damn, the grass on that side sure is green.

****

I’ve spent the last hour speaking with Renee Montoya; she truly has a great life. She loves what she does, which is more than I can say for myself.

I haven’t heard from Oracle in nearly two hours. It’s a good thing patience is a virtue I possess, although it took time to develop. I haven’t tried to contact her either. How can I explain discussing things out loud with myself? That’s a scene I’d rather avoid. Enough people think I’m not exactly on the ball.

Lucius is walking my way, the conversation between Montoya and I slow.

“Bruce, I have to say this was a great idea. We could really make more of this, perhaps tomorrow we could get a meeting set up?”

“Lucius, say hi to Renee.” Lucius is never so much into business that he overlooks being pleasant, yet he ignored Montoya all together.

“Ah, yes. My apologies… Hello Renee.” He extends his hand with a greeting that makes most politicians seem clumsy.

“My pleasure.” She takes his hand and shakes it like a cop, not like a woman. I can see the surprise in his face.

“Really, my apologies. Bruce, as I was saying.”

I look at Montoya. “I think I’m busy.”

Renee stares back.

“Yeah, Lucius. I’m meeting a friend tomorrow.” This is not the fake Bruce smile, this one is genuine. I really do like her, as a friend. She’s smart and funny. She could’ve chosen many fields, yet she chose to be a cop. I’ll have to get that from her one day. Of course to do that, I’d have to leave the cave.

“I see.” Fox says “Maybe another time then?” He leaves with a smile and a salute.

“You’ve got some set of friends Bruce.” There’s that smirk.

“You don’t know the half of it. The people I normally hang out with I imagine are a lot like the people you see everyday.”

“Not what I expected when I took this assignment.” She’s looking around the room. “C’mon, let’s go see what the new buffet looks like.”

“Why did you want this assignment?” Curiosity, what can I say?

“I’ll tell you later. I had to starve myself all day to get into this dress. I’m famished.”

“Somehow I think you’re fibbing. I’m sure it would have fit just fine.” We head toward the buffet table, which is placed directly under those skylights that made Oracle so nervous. Speaking of which…

“Renee, I have to make a phone--” The cell phone in my pocket rings at that exact moment.

“Maybe they got sick of waiting? Go ahead I’ll wait.” She smiles and stands about five feet away, scanning the room, but still within earshot.

“Wayne.” I say trying to sound like I didn’t expect a call.

“Master Bruce?”

“Alfred?”

“The call you’ve been expecting? It just came in sir.”

I’m smiling even though I feel my heart plummet. “Notify my associates.”

“Will do si--” I never heard him finish.

Oracle was blasting in my ear.

“My father’s house just received a phone call.” She’s not her usual calm self. I can her panic setting in.

“I just received a call too.” I’m trying to eliminate the emotions running through me now. Montoya is scanning the crowd and glancing toward me every five seconds or so.

“I know, they were about 22 seconds apart. I’ve been watching both lines. They both came from the same… hold.” The line Oracle is using goes dead, maybe not the greatest choice of words.

“Yeah, sure… uh huh.” I try to look like I’m maintaining a conversation for appearance sake.

I keep it up for two minutes till I hear the words I didn’t want to hear.

“Gordon’s on the move.”

I’m smiling even though I feel my heart plummet.

I look Montoya's way; she's staring at me. I turn my back on her and start whispering. “Team B?”

“In pursuit. He's with Agent Smiths.”

“Where are they headed?”

“Into a trap…”

“Gordon’s headed here?!” I say it louder than I meant. I chance a glance over my shoulder and Montoya is right behind me. She gives me a strong look like I’m taking too much time.

I mouth the words. “I’m sorry.” And make my hand move like a puppet to insinuate the person on the other end of the line yakking my ear off.

Again I put my back to her. “The Smiths? They leading or following?”

“Canary left her gear in a top-secret meeting with Gordon and the Smiths, but I caught everything.” Oracle starts chattering in her fast way.

“They all agree you are likely the next target. They called your Manor and Alfred told them where you were. So they got--”

“Whoa.” I’m screwed.

“What is it?” Oracle asks pointedly.

“The Smiths called the Manor… did they call Gordon’s?” I felt my heart drop to my gut.

“I haven’t heard from Canary, I know the male Smith stepped out, I haven’t heard back from her.”

“Listen, it’s not your fault. Have Nightwing tail them. They are coming to get me, they won’t hurt your dad till they have me.”

“Oh my God, what if she… what if he…” Barbara’s emotions are no longer limited to her sleeve, they appear on everything she touches. She’s upset at this whole thing. The questions keep coming harder and harder, like Jeopardy, but we have no answers yet.

“Oracle, you must be there for Team B.” I glance at Montoya again; she’s maintaining her composure.

“What are you going to do Bruce?” Her voice is slightly elevated by her choked tears.

I shift to my unemotional side. “They want me? They’ve got me.”

****

I need to get away from this charade I’m involved in. I need to be the Bat.

“What the hell is going on? Stock market crash?” Renee’s making jokes. And even though she’s unaware of the situation, times like these are when jokes can kill.

“Something like that.” It comes from my throat, cold and hard. I grab my briefcase.

She steps in front of me “All right, look I don’t know what’s going on. If you have cold feet about being a target--”

“Montoya--” I start.

“What happened to ‘Renee’?” She smiles at me.

I don’t know what to tell her. “The killers are on their way here.”

“Their? Killers?” She’s looking at me like I just gave away Boardwalk for Baltic Avenue.

“I just got a call--” I start, but she cuts me off hard and fast.

“They? There is more than one?” Her accent is more apparent when she’s angry. “How do you know all this?”

“I can’t say. I have… friends.”

“Friends,” She repeats the word without emotion attached. “Do these ‘friends’ have pointy ears?”

“Perhaps.” I let the word hang a second till she realizes I’m not joking. “Look, they have Gordon and are on their way here.”

Montoya grabs my arm and starts through the crowd. She’s at a pace that could almost be called a run. “We need to get in touch with Harvey.”

She’s dragging me; I could get away if I wasn’t Bruce. “Harvey?”

“Yeah, my partner?” She asks like I couldn’t have forgotten him. “Heavy guy? ‘Pretty boy’ ring a bell?” “I know who he is, but--”

“No buts here Mister Wayne.” She barges into the kitchen like she owns the place. “We need a phone.” She shouts to anyone in earshot.

“Here, I have a cell.” She plans on calling the cops in on this. “But--”

“No Buts.” She takes the cell from me and starts looking for something, she finds it and starts dragging me again. “Get in there.”

“In there?” I’m surprised by her resourcefulness.

“Did I stutter?” She’s giving me a look like she has every clue what she’s up to.

I walk in and she follows closing the door. The room is full of cans of food and other nonperishable items. Cleaning products line one wall with a mop sink and a hose. There is one door in, which means one door out, but not the only way out.

“Why are we--”

She puts her finger to her lips to gesture quiet. She’s already dialed as I took in the room. “Harv? We got a situation.”

She looks then smiles at me and walks toward the door. “Yeah, where’s Gordon?”

“Yeah? Hold one sec.” She walks back towards me. “This is for your own protection.”

I’m handcuffed on my right hand before I know it; she takes it and wraps it around a metal pipe near the mop sink. “I’ll be back, we need to clear the area.” She takes my briefcase from me and puts it next to the door.

“Wait, what about Gordon?” She’s already locking the door and headed out.

“Sorry Bruce, I’m a cop before I’m anything.” Her voice doesn’t deny it at all. She closes the door and I’m alone.

“I understand all too well…” I start working on the cuffs exactly two seconds after she walked out the door.

I have the cuffs off exactly six seconds after she’s left. I take my jacket off and start taking the shelves in the room and stack them against the door. I don’t need anyone coming in right now. For the first time since I got her I can be me… I open the briefcase and start suiting up.

“That’s the situation.” Oracle tells me in my left ear.

I’m still in the storage room; there’s no reason to get out at the moment. The Smiths aren’t here yet, so neither is Gordon. But they are coming. Canary is still MIA and Nightwing is still dressed as me. I have the air vent open and a cable ready to lift me to the roof in a hurry.

“Got it. Tell Nightwing how this is to play out.”

“You’re running the show.” Her smile is back.

“Always.”

“Go!” Oracle’s voice is strong and filled with confidence in my left ear.

Take hold of the Bat-cable with my right hand and with the flip of a switch I’m on the roof in a mere second. Release the cable and leave it in the vent, tuck and roll into a crouch, glancing around, left hand on a Batarang and right hand placed firmly on the roof in case I need to move quickly. My feet are under me and I’m prepared, but nothings here waiting for me. I didn’t expect anything but you can never let your guard down for a second in this line of work.

Slowly standing, I stalk towards the edge of the building. I can see two police cars a block away – must be Bullock and crew – and a black limo approaching from the south. I know that’s the Smiths and Gordon, I can’t tell by the make of the car or anything like that. I can see the shadow of the bat following it. Dick.

He’s keeping his distance, but if I can see him anyone looking hard enough would be able to. He spots me, I can tell by a gesture with his left hand, then he disappears out of my sight. Counting… it takes 15 seconds.

“He’s in position.” Oracle tells me.

The limo slows and comes to a stop a foot away from the curb and at a slight angle to the building. Out steps the driver. Taking a look around and satisfied that nothings awaiting them he steps to the rear door of the vehicle, leaving the front door open for a fast getaway in case things go wrong. Opens the rear door and steps back, his right hand makes a slight adjustment toward his waist, left side. Gun. I’ll have to keep an eye on him. Anyone that would make that adjustment is looking for a reason to fire.

Out comes a shapely pair of legs, the black female only known as Special Agent Smith steps out. She’s tall and built for running. Her legs are strong and her shoulders square, with a hint of biceps underneath the jacket of her pantsuit. She’s followed by Gordon, he has a cigar and he’s looking around. He’s well aware he’s not alone in Gotham. The others will learn. Out steps a white man in the same sort of suit with a fedora – didn’t think anyone wore those anymore – and what appears to be a cane in his right hand; I know better. He steps right behind Gordon, I can tell he’s shielding himself with Gordon. He’s smaller than Gordon is; one on one Gordon could take him.

They both make a movement and I think it’s about to go down, I make my move to get closer. Still unnoticed I can see they just took something from their jacket pockets and tossed them in the car.

“What was that?” I inch closer to the edge and am in the air when I hear Oracle’s response.

“Dee just asked the same thing… cell phones.”

Dee is Dick; somehow he had a better angle on the view. That’s the only explanation as to how he beat me with the question. I bring the cape around me as I land on the hood of their car. The hood caves in a bit not too much, must be armored. My cape is around me to hide their view of my hands and legs.

The driver with the itchy trigger finger is closest and makes his move. I kick out with my right foot and slam the front door on his body; he gets caught between the door and the car. I slide across the roof of the car and use the driver’s head to stop my momentum and drop in between Gordon and the woman, the driver’s head hits the roof and he falls backward sprawling onto the asphalt. From behind I shove the woman into the front seat.

“Wait!” I hear Jim call out. I turn and pull Gordon to me and onto my right side with a swim movement of my right arm, tucking my left hand into my cape to conceal the next movement. Smith makes no move aside from a smile. I hear the scraping of metal on asphalt… Gun.

I put myself behind Gordon and between him and the driver on the ground. I spin and kick the front door of the limo closed and I take a look and start to bring out a batarang with my left hand. The door hits the woman in the legs and she yelps like a dog and curses. I hear wind being cut before I see the gun in his hands. A batarang nails the gun and knocks it under the limo.

Dick.

“Batman, they’re here to save Bruce!” Gordon calls from behind me.

The woman in the car moans as she sits up. “Among others.”

“Assault is a crime, needless to say assault on Agents… tsk… tsk…” I hear from behind me. It’s a voice filled with amusement. Smith.

“Bruce is--” Jim starts.

I turn and look past Jim and stare into Smith’s eyes. “Safe” My voice is hard and cold; I’m not even breathing hard. These Agents are lightweight, but Mr. Smith… that remains to be seen.

Sirens are heard over the words of the Agent on the ground, but his meaning was clear. He doesn’t like me. Feeling is mutual. I hate guns, and I hate anyone that would first try to use one in a situation before taking in his surroundings.

“Ahhh, so you are the great Batman.” Smith’s voice is low and still filled with amusement.

“Look before things get out of hand, this is my city and I won’t have you…” Gordon’s rant towards Agent Smith falls into the background. Oracle is in my ear.

“Dee has moved… position compromised.” She’s not upset yet, just informing me.

“I’m still in charge!” Gordon yells, placing his cigar back in his mouth. “Got it?”

“Jimmy, we are all friends here.” Smith’s charm is that of a politician, but with more snake oil.

I hear a groan from the driver and the lady Smith is taking position beside Gordon. The car is on my left, driver’s door open. Gordon on my right looking square in Smith’s eye.

“I have enough friends.” Gordon spat at him, clearly Jim isn’t pleased with these guys. Glad to know I’m not alone in that feeling.

The driver is crawling toward the car.

“Leave it.” I growl without removing my eyes off of Smith, who is all smiles.

“Can we take this inside?” The Lady Smith asks.

The driver is dusting himself off and standing at the front of the car; he took my advice. I step into Smith and give him a shoulder. He backs into the car on his right.

“Excuse me Mr. Bat.” He says as if he meant it.

I’ll have to clean the suit of snake oil later.

“So we came to Gotham to save as many people as we can.” Lady Smith says crossing her legs.

I can’t believe that these agents would bring Gordon here. Oracle couldn’t give me more information on them earlier, but it was clear to me earlier that Jim could possibly be a target. Yet they bring him here, as Oracle said into a “trap”. More than likely this is where everything will go down, and these Agents here to “protect” have brought the number two victim right into the line of fire. I call that ignorant.

The driver is waiting outside in the car and we are all standing in a meeting room off to the side of the ballroom and above the kitchen. The party is still going on and is loud enough to make the cups of coffee on the table shake and make ripples in them. Montoya and Bullock have joined us and have already given their summary of the events that led till now. Montoya left out any mention of getting to know Bruce Wayne, and Bullock left out the way he treated Bruce Wayne. Everyone agreed Wayne was safer in the storeroom except for the Agents.

I’m standing away from them all with my back to the wall. I can feel the wall vibrate with the noise of the party. Mr. Smith has looked around to each of the people in the room as he conversed, but seems more interested in some mental game always looking my way. I keep him in my peripheral vision; I’d never let someone like him out of my site.

“Look, Wayne was my call!” Montoya bursts throwing her coffee cup in frustration at the wall. “You can’t blame Jim for any of this!”

“He’s your superior, Wayne will be taken into custody for his own protection.” Lady Smith said as if she meant it.

“Like hell,” Bullock started. “This freak gets off on burning people to death and you two are here to arrest our most upstanding citizen?!”

“That about sums it up.” Mr. Smith interjects.

“Look, you guys may have some sort of right to do so but till I see paper on it, you guys are following my lead.” Gordon’s stretching his arms behind his neck. Then rises.

“I need to speak to Batman alone.” Jim tells the group.

I’ve stayed quiet the entire time, just listening.

“Renee, take us to the storeroom.” Mr. Smith says with a grunt as he uses the cane to get up. But he doesn’t put his weight on the cane at all. He never actually used the cane to help him rise. Just tried to make it seem like he did with his right hand

“That’s Ms. Montoya to you and your friend.” Renee said with dignity.

“And we’ll take you when we’re God damn good and ready!” Bullock says under his breath, but not low enough to be inaudible. He apparently does that often.

“Harv, I can handle this!” Montoya turns to him with a wagging finger and a furrowed brow. “And how many times do I have to warn you about taking His name…” She let’s her voice travel off.

Harvey just smiles and takes his coffee walks past me and out the door.

Montoya turns toward the Smiths. “What he said!” With the anger gone now and replaced by a smile, she turns to leave and glances my way. “It was a present from my parents for the promotion.” She said while never slowing her pace, going to find Bullock no doubt.

She obviously meant the new gun she’s carrying. I had asked her earlier about it.

“I’m sure we can find an executive hiding in a storage room on our own.” Mr. Smith says walking out the door carrying his cane and Lady Smith following him.

“On it.” Oracle says in my ear.

“Well now.” Gordon says lighting a cigarette.

Tonight is going to be a long night.

****

“Where the fuck is he?!” Mr. Smith is yelling as the door opens.

Lady Smith walks in first; her stride is long and full of purpose. Montoya follows her with hands behind her back and her head down. Mr. Smith is on her heels.

“Hey!” I hear Bullock “You get those God damn cuffs off her right this second.”

“Harv! I’ve warned--” Montoya started but was cut off.

“You shut up ya tubby bastard or I’ll put your meat hooks in bracelets too!” Mr. Smith spits it out with even more venom than he was yelling at Montoya.

“Why is one of my people in cuffs?” Gordon demands.

“Don’t you ever move?” Lady Smith says to me. I haven’t moved from the spot they left me in 15 minutes ago.

“I saw him move on you two and that goon in your car!” Montoya says with her face still down and her hair hanging in her face.

“Shut the hell up.” Mr. Smith slaps her on the back of the head. I still don’t move, I just watch.

“You son of a bitch!” Gordon yells. “You ever lay your hands on one of my officers again I’ll have your ass!”

With that Montoya looks up and smirks at Smith. In what I assume is an act of rebellion or severe stupidity in Mr. Smith, he raises his hand to act like he’d do it. Bullock grabbed his hand from behind and twisted his arm behind his back and shoved him off balance. Face first into the wall. Then kicked the back of his right knee, which sent Mr. Smith down to the ground. I never got to see if he’d actually strike Renee again.

He might actually have to use that cane now.

“You might actually need that cane now.” Bullock says with a grunt while tugging up his pants by his waist. He’s breathing a little hard, but that was an impressive show put on by him.

“And a load of aspirin!” Montoya smiles. “Now get these cuffs off before I get pissed.”

“You heard the lady.” Gordon says.

“She’s obstructing justice.” Mr. Smith says leaning against the wall holding his face in his hands.

I walk over to Montoya and reach behind her back. I have the cuffs off before anyone has time to blink and I toss them on the floor at Mr. Smith. “I did it.”

Montoya starts walking toward the door while rubbing her wrists and acts like she trips on Smith’s cane and kicks him in the groin.

“Oops! Sorry Smith.” She covers her mouth and walks out.

“That’s gotta sting.” Bullock says, then turns to me. “Bats, you moved Wayne?”

“I told Gordon he was safe.”

“Okay… just I don’t know what we’re gonna do for a target now.” Bullock says.

“You don’t need another one…” Mr. Smith says getting to his knees.

My heart skips a beat.

Gordon looks at me, then Smith. “Something you want to share with the class?”

“You Gordon--” He coughs and reaches for his cane.

“Gordon, you’re in as much danger as he was.” Lady Smith provides from a chair.

“Wait then does that mean this whole place is--” Bullock starts.

The noise got louder outside.

“In danger.” Mr. Smith smiles at me and gets to his feet with the help of the cane.

Montoya bursts in the room and the smell of burnt flesh fills the room. Her face is ghost white and she tries to speak but her voice never comes to her.

And that speaks louder than any words she could have said.

Montoya bursts in the room, and the smell of burnt flesh fills the room. Her face is ghost white and she tries to speak but her voice never comes to her.

And that speaks louder than any words she could have said.

I can hear screaming, men and women alike.

“Oh my god--” Oracle starts, then nothing.

“Oracle?” I say leaning into the doorway to steal glances down the hallway. There are people running everywhere in a state of panic.

Oracle doesn't answer, but the line isn't dead. She's stunned by what's going on. It had to have just happened. Dick had no time to respond to this. For that matter Canary still hasn't been heard from either.

“Get it together Oracle. I need you.” I close the door and turn towards Gordon, Montoya, Bullock and the Smiths.

Mr. Smith smiles when he hears the name spoken.

“On it.” She says still slower than I would have liked.

Montoya is still in a state of shock, bent over trying to control her breathing. Harvey's holding a cup of water for her and asking if she's all right. Gordon is staring at the Smiths. He's thinking the same thing I am.

“You're not sharing everything with us. Who the hell is this guy?” Gordon slams his fist on the table. The cups that held coffee tip over and coffee runs everywhere. His fist remains on the table, and is trembling.

The two Smiths look at each other as if to try and figure out what they should say.

They definitely know something.

“Leave me with them.” It comes from my gut like an animalistic growl. Much harder than the gravely fishbowl could ever hope to be.

“Oracle is working for you?” The words practically slide off Mr. Smith as if he knew all along.

“Ora-what?” Bullock says looking up from a bent over and obviously sick Montoya.

“Oracle, he's some sort of hacker. The U.S. Government is going to have a lot to say to him.” Lady Smith adds from her chair. She's tilted back and her legs are now resting on the desk with the coffee slithering into puddles.

“Why is it that most people assume I'm a guy?” Oracle asks in my ear. It was rhetorical; she didn't expect an answer.

“Madre?!” Montoya shouts still bent over, now on her knees. Even from her position on the floor she still can look somewhat intimidating. “You people come in here--”

“Assholes!” Bullock chimes in, glaring at Mr. Smith.

“Harv!” Renee scowls at him, then returns her fixed gaze back on Lady Smith. “You ‘people’ come in here and start your red tape crap, allowing a murderer to roam free. Now you want to bust some hacker?!”

Renee has always been one of my favorites on the force.

“Look here lady!” Mr. Smith starts. “You take your friggen mentality outside, this is a--”

“With pleasure you jackass!” Renee stands up and pulls out her shiny new gun. “Never wanted to use this outside of the gun range.” She racks the slide putting the first round into its chamber. “Now I have no choice.”

“Yes, you do.” I say. “Leave your gun here, save whoever you can. I'll take care of Doe.”

Mr. Smith's facial expression tells me I just caught him cheating.

“Leave me alone with them.”

Gordon stands up, looks at me, then his two officers. “We should leave these two here for their own protection.”

“I'm all for that, but I'm taking my gun!” Montoya tries to stare at me but can't. She glances away.

Lady Smith stands and tries to put a finger in Gordon's chest. My left foot comes out from the cape and the heel strikes her in the back of the head, shoving her face into the coffee-covered table. She's unconscious even before she strikes the table. My left foot is still resting on her neck.

“I saw nuttin!” Bullock covers his eyes and stumbles his way toward the door.

“Do your job Batman.” Montoya says to me as she heads for the door with Gordon leading the way.

I never take my eyes off of Mr. Smith. I take my foot off his partner and return it back into the darkness of the cape.

The door closes with a loud click. The screaming is lower with the door closed, but I know it's still there. I need to know what I'm walking into down there, and quickly.

Lady Smith is still out. Her face still resting on the table. Mr. Smith has pulled himself up to his full height; he's still a couple inches shorter than I am.

“You can't hurt me, I'm a--” He tries to force me off with words. That won't work.

“This is my city.” I growl. “You've brought that maniac into it. I'm going to take all three of you out of Gotham by any means necessary.” I mean it too.

“Batman, Dee is engaging the target.” Oracle interrupts. “I have no visual on him, I'm locked into every security camera this side of the Atlantic and I can't see the guy! It seems like Dick is fighting air!”

I'm not surprised. Doe hasn't been on any cameras from day one. I still don't even know what he looks like. “Have him back off, save as many as possible.”

Mr. Smith looks at me with amusement. “Make sure he understands not to mess with this guy. I'll handle it.” Mr. Smith's smile says he isn't letting me in on something.

“Oracle, leave me off-line for a few minutes.” My emotions are raging; it takes all my self-control to stop from strangling this guy where he stands.

“Oracle out.”

“If you know what's good for you, you'll stay off-line.” Lady Smith says from my side. She moans in pain and rubs the back of her head.

I chance a glance towards her.

“The guy Doe. He has this ability to take your average electrical systems, such as--” There's a flash of movement from my right side.

I throw out my right leg to try and stop him with a sidekick. T would’ve worked if that cane hadn't given him the extension of another 2 feet. His ribs cave a bit and he slams into the wall and the wall breaks away even more from his earlier fall. But not before he exposed a needle on the bottom of the cane and injected Lady Smith with it.

The cane, now harmless, falls to the floor with a clatter. Lady Smith is convulsing; there's nothing I can do for her. She falls to the floor and lies there, twitching every few seconds.

Mr. Smith spits blood out of the left corner of his mouth. A tooth is also imbedded into the wall, just above the gaping hole. “You bastard, you just killed an Agent.” He says to me. Somehow he's still amused. His breathing is ragged and comes hard. He definitely has some broken ribs and slight internal bleeding. But he won't die.

I grab his collar and yank him to his feet, throw him across the table. He slides across it and lands awkwardly on his right shoulder next to the body of his partner. “You think anyone will believe you?”

He coughs up a little more blood. “No, why would they? You make a threat and beat my ass and my fellow agent is dead. Why would they think it was you?”

I smile. He thinks he has me. He doesn't.

“You even had your precious hacker turn off your devices!” He tries to stand but the knee where Harvey kicked him gives and he falls back down to one knee. He grabs it in pain. “Lucky shit.”

I'm not sure if he means Harvey's kick, or me. “Tell me what I want to know.”

“Why? So you can kill me?” He has this look in his eyes. He's the killer among us.

I walk a little closer to the dead agent on the floor. He backs away on his hands and knees as I do so. I lean over and pretend to check her pulse.

“That'll do you little good it's also undetectable!” He laughs even though he has to wince afterwards.

I lift her head off the floor, grab her coat and open it. Attached to her bulletproof vest is an empty holster.

“You bastard!” He rises to his feet again. Holding her gun in his right hand, his left holding his ribcage. “At least she gets a shot off before you kill her--”

I can see the laser light on the gun light up and begin its tracking movement on me. Both my hands are out in then open. One cradling the dead agent's head, the other holding her coat.

“This is for Oracle.” He smirks.

Then he fires.

The muzzle flashes, but the bullet never hits its mark.

I lift with all my strength and manage to pull the dead agents body in between us in time. Her bulletproof vest protects me.

He fires again.

I throw the agent's carcass at him. Mr. Smith goes to catch her and still manages to shoot. He fails. Her body shoves him to the floor and is lying on top of him. But the gun is still trained on me.

I glance around the room; there's little room for movement in here.

I can hear a cheer outside, then quickly followed by more screaming. I hope that's a little good news.

“Superman's here.” I hear in my left ear.

Who says wishes never come true?

I smile at Mr. Smith. The game has turned in my favor, but then again it always does.

“What?” He asks, pushing the agent off himself. Her blood is on his pants. He backs toward the door putting more distance in between him and me.

I start to move to the desk and he waves me off with the pistol. I hate guns. It takes no brain to control one. The dumbest man on earth used one once. That man helped create the greatest detective alive today. That man helped create a dynasty that has ruled Gotham for years.

That man created me.

“What's he telling you?” He gestures with the gun toward my head.

“Want to hear?” I ask with a grin.

“No thanks. If you can hear it then they haven't figured it out.” Smith smiles.

I just smirk. A minute has passed since his first shot, any second now.

“Goodbye ‘hero’, give Saint Peter my regards.” His left hand still cradling his rib cage he aims the gun with his right. Aims it at my mouth, the only area not covered.

The door bursts open almost striking him. It hits the wall and I can hear the screams. Apparently Clark is having his problems. I'm not surprised. This isn't the time to play nice.

“What the fuck?!” Smith shouts and turns to stare Dick right in the face. He's now looking at two Batmans. He glances at Dick starting at his feet then back up to his face.

“Why don't you tell Saint Dick yourself?” Dick says no hint of humor in his eyes, mouth or tone of voice. He's as deadpan as can be.

Smith turns back to me and I can see on his face this was one thing he never expected. In this line of work you start to expect the unexpected. It helps you cope with things better. As he turns back to Dick trying to bear the pistol his way since he's the closest. Dick lays him out with one punch, a right cross that sends him toppling over the table landing at my feet.

Dick turns and closes the door slowly. His whole mannerisms have changed; his arms are hanging like a child that has fallen asleep. He turns back to me and for once I can see the toll fighting downstairs has taken on him. His face is dark with smoke and his eyes are watery. The cape is singed and his arms are badly burned. He's bleeding from his right leg; it looks like a gunshot wound.

I rush to his side as he takes two steps toward me. I get there just in time to catch him as he collapses in my arms. He says something but I can't hear him. It may be dumb but I take off my mask without a second thought.

“… Has…Fox…” He squeaks out of his dry throat. I get up and get him the water Bullock had in a cup for Montoya.

Rush back to him. “Lucius?”

He sips the water and nods. He looks in my eyes and sees something. “Go on.”

“I'll be back.” I start to take off belt and Dick just lies there watching.

“Oracle, I'm going to stop this.” With that I take out the earpiece.

As it leaves the ear canal I can hear. “…Shown up!” I don't have time to listen. I toss them all down at Dick's side, except for a pair of cuffs and a small box I took from the belt.

He looks down at them, then back up to me. “Forgetting something?” He adds with a smile.

I take the cuffs and place them into the waistband. The box goes into the forearm of my right glove. I pull on the cowl.

“Watch your back. No one is there to cover you this time.” Dick laughs but it turns into a cough. He always tries to lighten a dark mood.

“I'll be back.”

“I'll be fine, Arnold.” He moans and closes his eyes.

I walk over to Smith remove the gun from his holster and check for a second gun. I find it near his right ankle. Toss them both at Dick's side. As I walk towards the door I pick up the gun Smith dropped when ‘Saint Dick’ knocked the rest of his teeth loose.

I toss the gun towards Dick and he catches it without really trying.

“Thanks, but I think I'll try and live through the pain.” He's cough/laughing again as I lock the door behind me.

The hallway is filled with smoke. I can hear screaming from all sides. My hearing is a lot better without the earpiece. I find the stairs to my right and run up them. The stench of burning flesh is clinging to me. All the needless deaths that took place tonight…

I could never see the connection, but now that connection is all too clear. I can't believe I missed it. It's a feeling I hate to describe. I can't describe it. It's like I should have been able to do something all along yet was too dumb to do it.

I almost feel selfish. That would be the feeling if I had to call it something. It's as if I never gave enough of myself to my job. Someone must pay. Someone will.

Exit the stairs and onto the roof, fresh air slams into my lungs. The night is cool and damp. Smoke is coming from the sides of the building. People are up here on the roof. Gordon has taken everyone he could up here. I guess it was easier than trying to get the people out past Doe.

“Batman!” Bullock shouts.

Others turn toward me at the sound of my name.

“Is it safe yet Batman?” Some charcoal-covered face belonging to a woman with red hair asks.

I just stare and walk past them. These are all people I am failing and they look to me as some sort of savior.

Gordon stops me with his hand and leans in to whisper. “You okay? Last I saw you--”

“Batman, thought I heard your name.” He comes from the sky. His cape is burned and he has the same sort of marks on him that Dick had on him, minus the blood or singed skin. He offers his hand.

I slap it away and stalk past him. Clark won’t like what I have to do. That’s why I’ve prepared for him.

“Now for the rest of the women.” He takes three women with him; including the red-haired one. Flying off the roof to take them to safety.

Montoya catches up to me as I get close to the skylights. “Superman said you both were badly burned, you seem fine though.” She said eyeing me for marks.

I look into her eyes. I can't believe a mere hour ago I was even thinking of possibilities. This city, my city, needs me more than I need anything.

“What happened to the bullet wound?” She's looking at the area where Dick was shot.

“For that matter where's your belt?” Bullock asks from behind me.

Step up on the rim of the skylight, there are bodies everywhere through the skylight.

No sign of Doe.

“Get to safety.” With that I leave my feet and into the air smashing the center of the skylight with my feet.

I drop into the ballroom as it begins to rain again.

The stench hits me even more powerfully than the cool fresh air had; it's a smell you never forget.

I land center of the ballroom harder than I should have though I notice no pain. Glass shards are falling from above as I'm in a crouch with the cape around me. I have both arms in front and between my knees as the shards strike my back. The cape keeps anything from cutting me.

The room is silent except for some whimpering of people that are burned. The only lighting is that of fires, some on tables and curtains, and some from humans still burning.

The rain falls hard around me, wetting everything in sight.

I'm soaked.

I'm tired.

I'm angry.

“DOE!”

“DOE!”

No answer.

I’m not thinking too clearly. This guy has pushed me to my limits. Even the Joker has a line he won’t cross. Doe apparently is missing that line. Admittedly that line is way out there, but everything Joker does is for publicity. He wants my attention as well as everyone else’s. Doe doesn’t care if he gets recognition for his crimes; He just wants to commit them.

I slowly stand out of the crouch I was in and push the cape around to expose my right leg, stepping lightly over bodies. The smoke is everywhere. I can see Dick wasn’t listening to me. This place looks like World War Three happened here. Lamps are knocked over, tables broken and plants have fallen from their perches. The carpet is a deep brown from the mixture of food, dirt, blood and smoke.

Clark wasn’t able to stop this guy. I didn’t expect him to be able to, but I know I can. Clark is powerful. But knowledge is power.

I am power.

I can hear some shouting from the kitchen area. I walk towards the kitchen with confidence, my anger building with each step I take. By the time I reach the door I’m a rabid pit bull.

Kick the door off its hinges; it falls away from me and to the left. I step in the doorway.

There with his back to me is Doe. I can see a crowd of people, including Fox and Kyle among them. Doe has blond hair and the body of a football player. He’s big, but not too big. In his right hand he’s holding a gun; nothing in his left.

“About time.” Doe’s voice is low and deep.

Fox is slightly burnt around his left hand; he’s got it tucked into the pit of his right arm. Kyle seems fine except for this look on her face of pure disgust. Others, some I saw earlier, are looking in various forms; some burnt badly, some unscathed and a couple near death.

“Let’s end this.” The anger of my words hangs in the air.

Doe starts chuckling to himself. “This started a long time ago, I don’t think it can just end.”

I say nothing, just take in the surroundings. There are pots and pans, utensils, a deep walk in cooler, some deep fryers, the storeroom and some stoves.

Gas stoves.

“This can end anytime.” Fox says. “Doesn’t matter when it started.”

Doe aims the gun towards him.

“He’s right. You have one last chance to walk out of here still breathing.” It comes out much calmer than I feel. “But you harm one more person and your leaving the same way these bodies are.”

“In a body bag.” The emotions shine through like a beacon of light this time. My voice says there is no chance I am bluffing.

Doe chuckles again. “You never get your fill do you Batman? You get your ass kicked and you keep coming back for more.”

I say nothing, but I step closer.

“No I don’t think so.” Doe says still not facing me. “You stay where you are or I’ll kill one of them again.”

Stop moving, try and think. I need to get just him and me, alone.

“Remember the last victim you caused their life.” I have no clue what he means. “You didn’t listen to me before. It did you no good then; it will do you the same now. That young woman still died, so will he.”

Oh Jesus. No wonder Dick wouldn’t let up. No wonder he’s in the shape he’s in. This sick bastard snuffed a life out from under him. I’m sure Dick did all he could, but he isn’t Batman.

He isn’t the Dark Knight.

“I have no intention of repeating that mistake.” I step closer.

He turns to face me. It’s the blond guy from the party, the one that was hitting on Montoya and then Kyle. He’s been here the whole time. “What do you think you’re doing?” he says aiming the gun blindly at the group of victims while staring at me.

“Ending this.” I stalk towards him slowly and deliberately.

Doe smiles and he fires the gun.

Selena kicks the gun hard with her left foot. She comes out of the crowd with the speed of a panther and the grace of one too. She nails the gun and the shot careens off a pot and bounces in the room. Never striking anyone. But it does hit the gas line.

I leap towards Doe before he can get another shot. I nail him with a tackle that takes us both to the floor. My shoulder takes his breath away. Kyle is standing where he used to be, five feet away from his position on the floor now. The gun is at her feet.

I stand up. “Get everyone to the roof.” I growl without even looking their direction. I’m staring down at Doe coughing and gasping for air.

Selena and Fox spring into action. They start gathering the people, Fox leading the way towards the stairs. There are some people that can’t walk due to their burns.

“Batman, we need help. I can’t get these people out of here on my own.” Selena tells me.

I glance over and the are five people lying there with burns on their legs so bad that they can’t stand. I look back at Doe on the floor. I have a decision to make.

I can stay here and make sure Doe gets what he deserves. Or get these people to safety, these citizens of my city. But if I let him go now…

I drag his body coughing over towards the gas pipe that is leaking. Take the cuffs out of the waistband and cuff him to one of the pipes.

“What are you doing?” Kyle says.

She gets no response from me. I walk over to the people lying there and pick up two that look like they’ll live. Heft them on my shoulders in a fireman’s carry. “Help her.” I nod my head towards the smallest one, a child with small features and brown hair. That leaves the two victims that are the worse off.

“You are going to leave him here? What about the others? They could all die.”

“You’re taking time we don’t have.” I growl and start towards the door.

“I’ll call the cops.” She says and starts to pull out a cell phone.

Oh God.

I’m ten feet from him and he has all the power.

I look back at Doe and he’s smiling.

Time seems to slow down at moments like these. I can feel every heartbeat in my chest. My breathing is in my ears. The pounding of my heart sounds like gunshots in my ear. And the world just slows. The smile on Doe’s face is but a crawl. I can practically see what he thinks as he thinks it. He has the upper hand.

I should have made sure he was down for the count.

I run as fast as possible towards Kyle carrying the people with me. The bad thing is I feel like I’m running in slow motion too. I smack the phone out of her hands towards Doe as it sparks.

Kick open the door to the storeroom with my right leg. Kyle is quickly on my heels with the child, I shove her past me and slam the door behind us with a kick from my left leg.

“What about the others?!” Kyle screams at me. She tries to get past me and I shove her backward with one hand. She falls onto her rear.

“Grab the kid.” I tell her.

She scoops up the child into her arms and chases after me.

I take hold of the grappling hook still hanging in the vent that I used to escape from this room earlier. I take Kyle’s hand and place the grappling hook in it.

She looks at me puzzled as can be.

“Hold tight.” With that I release her and flip the switch on the grappling hook. Her and the child are taken to the roof in record time.

There’s a small explosion, just big enough to shake the room.

Superman comes down the vent before I even have time to flinch from the explosion.

“C’mon, I got all three of you.” Clark says.

“Two.” Gravely fishbowl again, and I drop the two victims on his shoulders.

He looks at me for a second and is gone up the vent.

Another explosion rocks the storeroom, walls cave in and the ceiling collapses.

Darkness follows.

I've failed again.

There were two more people counting on me to get to them and save them.

I failed.

I hoped I'd have the time to save them all.

I was wrong.

Superman was here. He could have saved me. I didn't want his help, I still don't.

I know I'm alive. There is always one sure way to tell if you are alive.

Pain.

My chest feels like it's being crushed from all sides. I can't feel my legs. My throat is dry. I can't speak. I can't hear anything. I can't feel anything, nothing aside from pain. That's a good sign. Pain tells me I'm alive and things are working.

Now where's the good news?

I'm only halfway sure of which way is up in this mess. I can't really tell because I'm being pushed down from all sides. I can taste, even with the dry mouth, copper. The metallic taste that blood leaves. I probably have some internal bleeding. I can't tell if I am bleeding anywhere else, but in an explosion that size I must look a mess.

I've been wondering lately why I do this. Why do I continue? All I do is disappoint people. People lose their lives over me. They all think I can save everyone, truth is I can't. I can never save the people that matter to me. Why should the rest of the world be any different?

I've lost everything that ever mattered to me. I lost my parents.

I haven’t only lost but I’ve also failed. I've failed many people that care about me. I failed my parents; I failed Barbara; I failed Jason and even Dick.

I failed to save his parents.

Dick.

Dick was upstairs.

Oh God…

I can't fail him again. I failed him once when he wasn't counting on me. He's counting on me now.

Gotham's counting on me.

Alfred, Barbara, Jim, Lucius, Selena, Montoya, Bullock, Tim, numerous others and even myself.

I do this for me also.

I can't let this guy win.

I won't.

I don't know how long I've been out. I think I've been in and out of consciousness a few times, I can't tell with the darkness. It feels like a day at least. But I can't be, surely I would have been found before then.

Dick.

I can hear my blood pumping in my ears. Breathing is difficult; I'm coughing every few minutes. I've been holding my breath as long as possible, been trying to conserve air. I can usually hold my breath much longer than I can now.

I must look a mess.

Light!

I think I'm smiling. Let there be light! It's so close yet unable to reach it. Stretching out and still unable to get my hand in that light.

Then a hand helps me.

It's a female hand.

Montoya, it has to be.

I stop the smile I felt as I'm pulled into the light. I'm moving whatever limbs will move, trying to help. I think I'm helping, but it's hard to be sure. I can't feel her hand, or anything else for that matter. But I can see and hear somewhat.

The light is that of fire. It's visible once I'm out. And so is my helping hand's owner.

“Dinah.” I think I say. It's hard to tell what I sound like. My hearing has yet to return fully.

Canary looks how I feel. She's beaten, been shot. Her gut has a wound that's dealing out a deep dark red that's almost black. I hope I don't look that bad. She says something but I can't make out the words and my vision is too blurry to make out her lips.

I glance at where Doe was, his body burnt to a crisp; still cuffed to the pipe where I left him.

The bastard deserved it.

“Dick?” I try to say.

Her words again are nothing; her lips are still too blurry to make out. But I can see a smile beneath the grimace on her face. That's a good sign I'm fairly sure.

I point to my ears; she understands and points toward Doe's body.

I nod.

She looks like she screams at me and then waves at me. No, not at me. Behind me. I turn and there are about six firefighters trying their best to save who they can. Montoya is with them; she hands me a blanket. I shove it away with my left hand. My right leg is not cooperating. I have to limp.

Some medics start to come inside and help lay Canary down on a stretcher. They are about to carry her off when I stop them with a wave of my hand.

Lean down and whisper. “Dick?”

She shrugs, but she's smiling. Then she touches my arm and she's carried off. I look back at Montoya and she's there now with Bullock and Gordon. She's pointing to Doe's body and Gordon turns to yell at more of his men. No doubt to tell them to rope the area off. Bullock spits on the body and wipes his mouth on his left sleeve right near the wrist.

I gotta see if Dick is okay.

I start to stumble my way towards the ballroom when I pass the area where the victims lay waiting on me to save them. The two victims I couldn't get to.

Shit.

Make that ‘victim’. There's only one body.

Dick!

I’m going as fast as I can. Out into the ballroom and towards the stairs. The fires are everywhere, the stench of human flesh burning sting my senses. Good. That means I’m getting some things back. My eyes are still a little sore and my hearing has yet to show any recovery, but at least I feel more alive. I’m limping as fast as I can. I must look like I’m in one of those three-legged men competitions the way I’m hobbling.

Get to the stairway and the door won’t open. I try to kick, but my leg won’t let me. Instead I nail the door as hard as I can with my shoulder and feel them both give. The door collapses and my arm lets me know I’m alive. It practically shouts that I am.

Going up the stairs with little regard for my own safety, but I might be followed. I look behind me and sure enough there’s Montoya with Bullock lumbering up behind. Her gun is still in its holster while Harv’s is out and in his right hand.

“Stay!” I hear it in my head, the fishbowl sounds like an aquarium now.

She nods and pulls out her gun. Harvey stops and stoops over waving me on with his left hand. He must be pretty tired from this little bit of running. I turn and charge up the steps again.

I exit the stairs and into the hallway outside the room I left Dick.

I’ll kill Doe if he’s done anything to Grayson.

The door is fragile and gives with a much lighter hit with the shoulder.

“Don’t you knock?” Dick asks with his smile.

He’s in his street clothes and bandaged up. And his voice sounds far away. Must be my hearing returning. Smith is still out on the floor and Robin is kneeling next to Smith. He must have bandaged up Dick.

“Robin found me here and found a first aid kit.” Dick says rubbing his temples with both his hands.

“Someone had to do it.” Drake gives me a smirk.

I never wanted him involved due to the unknowns in this case. He’s a strong kid and actually seeing him here gives me relief. At least had Doe shown up Tim could have been here. I couldn’t be here and the knowledge of that hurts.

“What is it?”

I’m not sure which of them said it. My hearing is just coming in and I was lost in my own thoughts. But since Robin is checking on Smith my guess would be it’s Dick. He’s focused on me now.

“Doe.” The aquarium is louder than before. To my own ears I sound sadder than I thought I am.

I see Tim glance at me out of the corner of my eye. I wonder how much up to speed Dick’s brought him. “This guy’s flunky?”

Apparently they had enough time to catch up. I just look at Tim without emotion and then back to Dick. Seeing Dick lay to my left and Robin kneeling to my right, I’m flooded with nostalgic thoughts. Back to when Dick was Robin. The days that melted into years, but still seem like days.

“Yeah,” Dick tells him then looks up at me. “What happened? Oracle over the police line had told us--”

“Gone.” I step over to Robin and Smith.

Tim looks up at me “This guys out! I came in and found him like this.”

Dick laughs/coughs “He’s been like that since you left.”

“Wake him.” The anger of what’s happened over the past few days. All the lives wasted, everything Doe has done, and Smith sat back and watched.

Tim looks at me surprised but doesn’t question me. He just searches his belt for a second and puts his right hand under Smith’s nose.

Smith moves slightly, then with a fast jerk slaps at Robin’s hand. Robin catches the hand with his left and twists it just enough to make Smith whimper. Tim stands. “Done.”

“Now get him to a hospital.” Something in my ears pops and it sounds like the gravely fishbowl again.

Tim leans down. “C’mon,” He reaches into his belt and pulls out a pair of cuffs. “I’ll get you to--”

“Not him.” It comes out hard. I feel as if ice water is now running through my veins.

Tim glances up at me, then back down to Smith. With his eyes on Smith he tries to stand him up and tells me. “This guy needs help.”

“Not as bad as I will kid.” Smith tells Tim while looking at me.

Dick gets up and walks gingerly over to Tim. Dick looks at me. “Robin is right.” With that he nods sideways with his head towards the door. “C’mon. Leave him for now.”

Tim gets up and becomes a crutch of sorts for Dick. “Robin always was right.” I hear him mutter as they exit and close the door.

Smith tries to stand but the knee Bullock kicked is still giving him problems. I help him to his feet by grabbing his collar and jerking him up against the wall. I lean as close as I can stand to be to this guy. “Doe. I want him.”

Smith gives me that smile of his, only now it has a few teeth missing in it and a trickle of blood in the corner of his mouth. “The great Batman couldn’t catch one simple arsonist?”

Lift him another two feet off the ground, this time by his throat. He’s kicking at me with his good leg and grabbing my arm but I’m not letting go. Smith’s a liar; he works for the government but is running his own agenda.

Or so I hope.

His face turns bright red and his foot stops kicking, his grasp on my arm loosens a bit. I drop him and he slides all the way to the ground coughing.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Smith is holding his throat. “You have no clue how to stop him.”

I grab him by the collar and jerk him back to his feet. He flinches like a dog that’s been beaten too often. He’s starting to crack.

“I have all night. Where is he?” I step back one step.

“My guess?” Smith smiles, but his smile has lost something. He has cracked.

“No. You know. Tell me.” The anger has built to this. I’m ready to snap. The anger feels like electricity crackling around my fists. The adrenaline is surging through my body; I barely feel my ribs anymore. The physical pain is gone, but replaced with the emotional pain I’ve felt from the beginning of this.

“He’s gone. The guy is a shadow.” Doe’s smile has returned to its snake quality. “He’s been trained. You won’t see him again till he’s ready.”

Kick him in the other knee and he starts to drop. I catch his hair in my right hand and feel something pop in my rib cage as I lift him. When I pull back with my left arm and throw it forward to take his head off, I feel my left shoulder give.

My fist was stopped. I drop him in pain. But never make a noise.

There’s only one person able to stop me like that.

“Boy Scout. This is my city. Not yours.”

The grip on my fist tightens. “Justice oversees your laws.”

“Release me.” My anger has not been quenched. Clark is just making things worse.

“You’ll be released when we talk.”

Smith smiles and wipes at his mouth. “Superman, glad you’re here. This guy has assaulted an agent of the law.” He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a badge.

I see out of the corner of my eye someone is in the doorway. I glance to my left, over Superman’s shoulder, and see Gordon. No doubt with Bullock and Montoya right behind him.

“Get your self-righteous hands off me, Boy Scout.” I place my right hand inside my cape to conceal my next move. I hope I won’t have to--

“Batman killed my partner.” Smith points at his partner on the ground. “Take his ass in.”

“That’s bullsh--”

“Harvey! How many times do I have to tell you to watch your mouth?!” Montoya pleads.

“You saw him officers. Since he got here he’s been out of control. Who knows what he did to Bruce Wayne?” Smith is adjusting his tie but with the shape he’s in it does little good.

“Batman?” Gordon asks.

“I will not ask again.” I say adjusting my right hand just so.

“I’m taking him in.” Superman announces.

Superman is on the floor.

Everyone else in the room is stunned.

I’m not.

As I’ve said before, in this line of work you have to be prepared for anything. I knew Clark would be here, so I prepared.

The Boy Scout lives by a much higher moral code than I do or most people for that matter.

Superman wipes at the corner of his mouth with his left hand and finds blood. His stare is cold and hard, for a second I think he might even try that heat vision thing he has.

I drop the now empty box that I had pulled from my right glove at his side. “Get out of my city.” I growl with the emphasis on “my”.

Smith is stunned. His face doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s stunned. His eyes are as wide as his mouth; the missing teeth are now clearly visible. His mouth moves and no sound comes out.

Clark picks up the box with his right hand and stands while still rubbing his jaw with his left. He walks towards the door where Gordon, Bullock and Montoya stare. Clark drops the box in Gordon’s hand, the weight of the box apparent as Jim hand drops with the weight of it. They all make room for him he stops in the doorway.

“You’ve made a mistake this day Batman.” Clark tells me. He sounds betrayed.

I say nothing; my words would only come out in anger and sound horrible. Clark is a friend and I like him. But he has overstepped his usefulness this day. No one controls me in Gotham.

Not even the great Superman.

Kent continues his way out the door. He never looks back. Montoya is the only one staring at the box, everyone else watches Kent walk out. Then they all in unison look at me. Harvey smirking, Gordon with a look of that of a father that just watched his son make a mistake, Smith in horror and Montoya smiling.

“What’s in the box?” Harvey asks.

“It’s not what’s in the box Harv.” Montoya and Gordon tell him together.

“I don’t understand.” Harvey is clearly not up on things.

Smith is though. “You sneaky son of a bitch!”

I stare at him hard; he apparently doesn’t get the meaning.

“Don’t you guys see? He planned this all out from the beginning! He knew Superman would come to save us all!” Smith points an accusing finger at me.

“Take him to the station.” Gordon says.

“After what he just did? Put a slug in him!” Smith tells them.

“He doesn’t mean Bats ya freaking moron!” Bullock tells him.

Montoya spins Smith against the wall and pushes his face up against the wall. “You have the right to remain silent--”

“Want my opinion?” Harvey says with a smile. “Use it.”

“You have the right to an attorney--” Montoya continues as she cuffs his hands behind his back. She leads him out the door continuing the Miranda reading with Bullock commenting on the way out.

“How about it? Wanna call that guy that got O.J. off?” Bullock slams the door behind them.

“Lead.” Gordon says tossing the box towards me.

I catch the box in my left hand; my rib cage is in severe pain yet I smile.

“Robin gave us a tape of Smith and your ‘discussion’. We know he shot the other Agent.” Gordon tells me, but I knew that. “I’m sure you already knew it though.”

I open my right hand revealing the piece of Kryptonite I held when I punched Clark and drop it in the box in my left. Clark thinks he was betrayed because he gave me a piece of Kryptonite many years ago, in case he needed to be stopped for the good of the world. Truth is I had this piece for a year before that time, so I don’t see it as a betrayal like he does. Always be prepared, maybe I am the Boy Scout. Walk towards where I lay my belt and everything and begin to place everything back on me.

“You tried to save those people.” Gordon’s voice is soft and kind. “Miss Kyle gave a statement already, and so did some of the other victims. You did all you could.”

Did I?

“I heard about the cell phone also.” Gordon tells me. “How’d you put that together?”

“I’m a detective.” Gravely fishbowl as I clip my belt back in place.

“Want a job?” Gordon’s smile is apparent even through his thick mustache.

“It’s not only cell phones. Anything electrical the guy is able to set on fire.” I grab the gun off the ground he used to kill Lady Smith and hand it to him. “That’s the weapon.”

Gordon opens a plastic bag and I drop the gun into it. Jim takes my hand as I release the gun and shakes it. “Thank you again.”

I look down at his hand in mine.

“I never get to do this.” Jim laughs, “You always disappear before I get the chance to. I just want you to know that I appreciate all you do for this city and its citizens.”

“My city.” I tell him.

“Your citizens too then.” Gordon releases my hand.

Jim somehow has made my anger flow away. He’s helped me to realize that I helped people tonight, even if it wasn’t as many as I hoped.

I hope Dick is safe.

“Wayne?” Gordon asks.

“What?” I’m stunned and only hope my voice contains it.

“Can we talk to him? We need a statement from him as well.” Jim tells me.

“He’s downstairs as we speak.”

“Okay then… is that all?” Jim asks.

“For now.”

He walks out the door.

I count to ten and follow him except I go up the stairs and down the side of the building into an alley. And emerge as Bruce Wayne.

“That’s all I have to say for now.” I tell the detectives.

“There’s a little bad news, Mister Wayne.” Montoya tells me.

“After the night I’ve had, any news is good news.” My shoulder is in pain, my legs ache and even breathing hurts, but I keep my poker face on display.

“Your Porsche? It was stolen.” Renee tells me.

“Why should that surprise me?” I can’t believe that Doe stole my car to boot.

“Excuse me?” Montoya asks politely.

“Nothing.” As I say it my limo arrives. “If that’s all officer, I have some friends in the hospital I have to see.” I take my briefcase and start to walk away.

“No problem.” Montoya tells me with a hint of sadness.

I stop and turn. “I’ll be in touch. Maybe over dinner I can remember a thing or two about tonight that you might find interesting?”

She smiles and is about to say something as Bullock runs up out of breath.

His breathing is hard and frantic. “Catwoman just stopped the car that had Smith… She took out the cops and stole something from Smith.”

“Sorry Bruce, another time perhaps?” Her perfect smile is back in place. “Duty calls.”

“Well, I’m taking the rest of the night off. I’ll catch the rest on the news!” I chuckle through the pain.

As they walk away I can pick up Bullock telling Montoya how Smith is beside himself cause Catwoman stole something top-secret from him.

Alfred comes around to the door and opens it for me. “Grand evening Master Bruce?”

“Yeah… just grand.” I say stepping into the vehicle.

Alfred closes the door and steps around to the driver side and gets in. “The hospital Master Bruce?”

“You read my mind.” I say staring out the window at Montoya.

“Yes I have sir. But for now would you like to go to the hospital?”

No matter how much it hurts I can’t help from laughing.

It’s been a week since Doe was last seen. My Porsche was found on the outskirts of Gotham and set ablaze. My ribs are staring to heal. Only one was broken the others were just badly bruised. My shoulder was dislocated also.

Dick has fared better than I. Canary will live and Fox is back at work.

“What about tonight?” Drake asks me.

“You’ll have to go out alone.” I tell him.

“No he won’t.” Dick is dressed as Nightwing.

“Here,” Dick hands me a disk. “Catwoman gave me this.”

I smile.

“Me and Shorty will see what’s up in Gotham tonight.” Dick says smiling. “You take a gander at what’s on there. You’ll be surprised.”

I doubt I will be, but I am surprised Dick already looked at it. He is becoming more and more self-reliant, and that makes me proud.

“Hey you’re just visiting! This is my city when Batman is out.” Drake tells him with a puff.

“You keep thinking that Short Round.” Dick laughs at him. “It’s always his city, you’ll get used to it.” Dick musses up his hair as he strolls by him.

“You know I hate it when you call me that!” Drake tells him from behind and trying to straighten his hair.

I like the fact that these two are so close. At least there are some things I don’t fail at, no matter how hard I try.

They leave the cave.

For once I sit by myself and smile.

All Batman and Superman related characters (unless otherwise specified) are property of DC Comics and WB Corporation.

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