It was a warm day in Gotham. The sun's rays beat down on the city causing every metal object to glow and every building to blind. It caused sweat to drip down every brow of every man woman, and child and every businessman or lawyer was forced to take off their jackets revealing the dark wet spots underneath. People retreated into buildings, not coming out unless absolutely necessary or unless night had finally fallen.
A hot front had hit Gotham early the previous week and with it brought the sunny new district attorney from Louisiana, Robin Doherty. Bruce Wayne watched the sun-tanned blonde grinning on tv, talking to the newscasters. He was animated, his hands would wildly shoot about and he couldn't help but show his enthusiasm for life in his every body movement.
The topic moved from celebrity gossip and the attorney's bachelor life onto his job and his outstanding performance. Crime rates had dropped by 7.5% and life had returned to normal after the nuclear bomb incident. Doherty's smile dropped into a more serious and yet still glowing face.
"When I first came to Gotham, I had a plan. I was going to usher in a new age to this city" he looked smug, "I am proud to say that I have succeeded."
The woman anchor smiled softly, her eyes crinkled, "what about batman?" she began, "there is strong controversy over the mayor removing the statue. As a man of the law, what is your opinion?"
It was noon now and the sun filtered in through the shades, burning Bruce where it landed. Robin Doherty's face lit up another notch.
"Batman," he smirked as some of his southern drawl escaped, coloring his voice, "was a vigilante not much better than most criminals. The people of Gotham regard him as a hero but what they have to realize is that he was old Gotham incarnate, something that always lurked in the shadows. While I do admire his bravery, I believe he should only be remembered for what he did that day, not his actions prior. He shouldn't be remembered as the batman. But as a citizen who finally helped his city on one occasion."
He turned back to the news anchor who was nodding her head up and down, her golden curls rising and falling gently on her shoulders.
"Master Bruce," a british male voice intoned, "while I do enjoy your visits, perhaps it would be better if we met somewhere outside of Gotham. In fact, another country would be best for someone who isn't even supposed to be alive."
Bruce Wayne waved his hand dismissively. His thumb ran over the edge of the short crystal glass that rested on his thigh as he continued to stare at the blank screen in front of him.
The butler heaved a sigh that moved his frail shoulders.
"I don't get a good feeling from him, Alfred," Bruce finally spoke cutting the short silence.
Alfred Pennyworth chuckled, "I suppose you wouldn't Master Bruce, he doesn't appear to be a great fan of you either." When Bruce didn't respond Alfred continued, "perhaps you're jealous. After all, Gotham doesn't need you anymore."
Bruce opened his mouth to respond but at that moment Selina Kyle entered. Her stilettos clicked across the hardwood floor causing Alfred to sigh once more.
"We have to catch our plane Bruce," She asserted, her hands were on her hips and she looked down at him.
"All ready," He responded and motioned to the suitcase that lay next to him. With one quick motion he was off the couch and on his feet. He lifted an open palm towards the front door and bowed slightly as if to say after you. She clicked back out of the large living room and Bruce moved to follow her when Alfred spoke up again.
"I am glad that you made it, Master Bruce," he faltered for a moment, "that you are happy."
Bruce Wayne smiled, "We'll see you in Florence, Alfred?"
"Of course."