Chapter 01: On Her Majesty's Service

"Bruce! Be careful!

Martha Wayne shouted, with a worried look on her face, but he was too ecstatic to listen, so he continued to skip happily ahead of his parents.

"Let him be Martha, we can't coddle him forever." Thomas Wayne said as a proud smile graced his features that showed a lifetime of hardship and labor. Although they struggled to get by, living paycheck to paycheck, he couldn't be more content. He had a very loving and happy family that had all they needed; each other. Martha frowned but then sighed in resignation,

Her husband was right, Bruce was quickly growing up before her eyes, even though it seemed only yesterday that she first held him in her arms. She smiled at that thought, although Bruce was extremely excitable, she wouldn't have it any other way, he was the pride and joy of her life. She turned to Thomas and smiled brightly,

"He's too excited to hear us anyways"

"It got down to the wire huh I admit, I didn't think they could do it; down 21 going into the fourth." Thomas said with a sheepish smile.

"Oh tell me about it, I was more nervous that Bruce was the entire time." Marth said. Joking, she added, "I don't think Bruce should play football anymore, its not good for my heart"

Meanwhile, Bruce felt like he was on top of the world. His peewee team just won their first playoff game in 10 years. Even though his body was sore and he felt as if his arms would simply fall off, he couldn't be happier. He ran and spun, reliving memories from just an hour earlier. He wanted to win, and defy the odds to make his parents proud, and in the end, he received the greatest reward; seeing how proud his parents were when they congratulated him.

Suddenly, he heard the sharp screeching of tires and the thunder of gunshots piercing the night. He froze as his mind went blank; even though he lived in a poor neighbourhood, he'd never witnessed anything like this in his entire life. After what seemed like hours, he saw his parents frantically shouting and gesturing at him to hide behind the parked car. Fear and panic dominated his mind. He immediately dropped into fetal position and shook violently. Although he was only eight years old, he had learned the concept of death when his grandpa passed away. He whispered a prayer under his breath, begging whomever to keep him and his family alive.

Without warning, fate stabbed his young heart and twisted the knife cruelly. With eyes widening with horror, he witnessed in agony as bullets hit his mother in the chest and then his father as he flung his body over her. The shock made his mind shut down for what seemed like an eternity in self defense as his mother was struck. As he saw bullets entering his father's body, his whole world comes crashing down around him. Almost as suddenly as the death of his childhood, his mind was bombarded with emotions, overloading him, causing him to let out an inhuman scream-

"NOOOO!"

Bruce yelled, instantly jumping off his bed fell on the floor panting, with sweat exiting from every pore in his body. As memories and emotions from seventeen years ago assaulted him like a tidal wave, he quickly ran to the bathroom and emptied out his dinner. With the salt of tears mixing with bile in his mouth, he closed his eyes and took deep breaths between sobs to calm himself.

He vowed for the, millionth, no billionth time to force himself to keep any memory over seventeen years old locked in the oubliette of his mind. It was the third time this week that he had the nightmare, and he blamed it on his relaxed state. He hated vacations or breaks of any sort because whenever he relaxed, his past threatened to assault him mercilessly. This short and rare break in his life wasn't by choice though, he reminded himself. Transferring jobs took time, and Queen Capital was nothing if not a little dishevelled at the best of times.

Due to his workaholic tendencies and the long and hard hours of his career, he never really got the chance to develop a hobby and to his dismay, he wasn't able to visit Alfred, who was away with his students on an archeological expedition. He didn't have any other friends to visit, simply for the reason he didn't have anyone else he would consider a real friend. Colleagues and professional contacts he had plenty, but the only real friend he had was Alfred, who raised him after the death of his parents. It wasn't that he hated people, far from it; the main reason he kept everyone at arms length is due to fear that he would lose them just like how he lost his family. The fear, the rage, and the agony of his memories defined most of his life. Over time, he learned that he can bury his memories and emotions by working himself to death. His desire to bury his past was so strong that he refused to return to Gotham for any reason whatsoever and rarely visited his parents, who were buried in a cemetery less than 10 minutes walk from Alfred's home in Seattle.

After drying himself and putting on a fresh pair of pajamas, he sat down on the couch with a cup of coffee in one hand and tablet in the other, browsing his unchecked emails. He sank into the soft cushions and reflected on what turned out to be one chaotic year. Six months ago, the world was turned on its head when an alien race, known as the Imperium invaded Earth. If somebody told him last year that they world would be invaded by aliens who covered the planet in darkness for over two weeks before a ragtag team of metahumans and apparently friendly aliens saved the day, he wouldn't have known whether to laugh or drag them to an insane asylum. The fact remains that it did happen and that as a result, human civilization was thrown into turmoil. The social, political, and economical aftermath of the invasion and the "Justice League" was unprecedented and heralded a second Great Depression that rivaled the last.

The Justice League was not terribly popular among the general populous. After the invasion, people looked for a scapegoat to blame for their troubles; since the Imperium retreated, the Justice League was their only target, since half of of their members were aliens themselves. Personally, Bruce respected the Justice League for their courage, after all they did save humanity during what seemed to be the last days of human civilization.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. For the next four hours, he had to find something to keep him occupied, lest he drifted off into sleep. Four hours was all he needed to kill until his life became normal again, at least by his preferred standards. He walked into his study and turned on his computer, having decided to pass time with what he did best, work and study.

He walked up the stairs to the skyscraper that was home to Queen Industries, Queen Tower. Like all the other buildings in Star City, it was unblemished by Imperium, and like its neighbors, Queen Tower stood majestically in the heart of city. He quickly spotted the security desk and walked towards it briskly and full of confidence.

"Hi, I'm Bruce Wayne," he said with a practice MBA smile. The girl behind the desk looked up smiling. She was a pretty girl in her early twenties, and had a carefree air that seemed to define a city that was mostly shielded from the apocalypse humanity faced merely half a year ago. The Imperium never reached California. Its crime was kept in check by a rumored vigilante and its people fed by stable jobs that had more or less survived the economic meltdown.

"How can I help you Mr. Wayne?" she asked in a cherry voice.

Bruce reached into his pocket and handed her an ivory business card and said, "I have an appointment with Benjamin Graham at 8:30."

She took the card and smiled brightly, "Please have a seat Mr. Wayne, I'll call him right away."

He nodded then sat in a brightly polished leather chair. As he observed the various employees of Queen Industries, he noticed that there was a distinctively lighter tone compared to Kierkegaard and Associates, where one can almost taste the tension in the air. Kierkegaard & Associates, an elite boutique investment bank specializing in tech and healthcare, was a vicious jungle where only the most resilient or the insane survived. It's founder, Andrew Kierkegaard, prided himself in his reputation for breaking the wills and ambitions of bright young bankers. Of course, Bruce was one of the few that not only survived, but thrived in Kierkegaard's hostile environment.

Ten minutes later, he saw a man in his mid-forties approach him. Bruce stood up and walked towards him, offering a well practiced smile and a hand,

"Hi, I'm Bruce Wayne," he said firmly shaking the man's hand.

"Please, call me Ben," the older man said, offering an equally practiced smile. "We're going to get you settled in soon enough, but Oliver Queen wants to have a meeting with the team right away."

Bruce smirked. He did not expect to meet Oliver Queen, the playboy billionaire and Chairman of Queen Industries on his first day. Bruce couldn't help but wonder if this might be a sign of interesting times to come. He followed Ben into the elevator, making small talk and exchanging pleasantries on the way to the top floor and Oliver Queen's lavish office. As they approached the conference room, a security guard nodded and opened the door. There were two others in the room, leaning against the edge of the table chatting,

"Guys, this is Bruce Wayne, our new senior associate," Ben then gestured toward a man in his mid-thirties and a younger man in his late-twenties, "This is Will Hamilton, my right-hand man and the best VP in the firm, and Arthur Andersen, one of our top-most senior associates."

As Bruce shook their hands and exchanged the usual greetings and pleasantries, Oliver Queen arrived. Oliver strolled into the room with a cocky playboy smile and held himself as if he was God's gift to the world. After greeting his employees warmly, Oliver walked over to Bruce and offered a hand,

"Oliver Queen, and you are?"

Bruce was surprised by the quiet strength behind Oliver's grip and the determination in his eyes, eyes that were studying him carefully and hidden well behind his carefree, cocky attitude.

"Bruce Wayne sir, I'm one of your new employees," Bruce replied behind a professional façade, while carefully studying Oliver in return. After a brief pause, Oliver smiled and said,

"Please, call me Oliver. 'Sir' makes me sound old, and I'm not quite ready to be old yet."

Ben walked beside Bruce and chimed in,

"Bruce here is my new senior associate from Kierkegaard. Lucius recommended him."

Oliver laughed and said,

"If Lucius vouches for him, then he's my guy! Welcome!"

Even though Oliver seemed to have lowered his guard, it was obvious to Bruce that Oliver was still keeping an eye on him. He wasn't offended or intimidated by Oliver's scrutiny, since he had yet to earn Oliver's trust, but his behavior still seemed strange for a man that relished in his meathead, frat boy reputation.

"Everyone, please have a seat" Oliver said as he gestured toward the polished Italian leather chairs, "Lucius won't be joining us today, so I'll fill you guys in."

Oliver's assistant, a blond bombshell as per his reputation, handed everyone a folder marked confidential. Bruce quickly skimmed through the files and smirked. His life was about to get very interesting indeed.

AN: Thanks for reading, I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! Special thanks to CrazyPhenom, Sulkier Clown, enter desired username, and others from BMWW forums for the invaluable help they've given me in writing this story. I would appreciate any and all reviews and criticisms! In case anyone is wondering, even though this takes place after the Imperium invasion, it is technically ahead of the Justice League cartoons "timeline" by 10 years in a sense. Basically Bruce and Oliver are only in their mid to late-twenties. Also, as far as the world is concerned, the Imperium invasion marks the first confirmed sighting of aliens, since it was everyone's debut mission.