Bruce Wayne could not remember what he had been dreaming about when he was suddenly awoken by a thunderous banging at his door. He jumped up with a gasp, falling from his bed as the sheets tangled themselves around his legs and torso. Sweat covered his skin, leaving a damp mess on his bed sheet.

"Yes?!" he called out of breath.

"Master Bruce, are you decent Sir?"

"Yes Alfred. Come in." said Bruce, and he picked himself up off the floor and sat at the edge of his bed. His body shook, but he had no idea why. Alfred stepped into his room, and stood in front of the doorway, standing straight, and looking slick and neat as ever.

"Is everything alright Sir? You look horrid.

"Thanks." he said in a flat voice. "I had a nightmare. I'm fine.

"And what was this nightmare about may I ask?

"Bruce thought for a moment then flicked his tongue. "I don't remember.

"Hmm."

"Isn't it Sunday?" asked Bruce

"Yes Sir."

"Then why did you get me up so early?" he whined and fell back into the bed, and placed an arm over his eyes.

"It's 2:37 Sir.

"What?! Why did you let me sleep in so late?"

"I did come in earlier, but you seemed quite exhausted, so I left you alone. God know's how long you stayed out last night."

"Thank you Alfred. I'll get up."

"Very good Master Bruce. I will have lunch ready for you in the dining room.

"Thank you."

Alfred left, closing the door gently behind him. Bruce took a moment, running a hand through his hair that clung in chunks on his sweaty face. He decided a cool shower would do him well. He stepped into the bathroom, sliding out of his black under armour boxer briefs and opened the the door to the shower. The water cooled his temperature, helping him to focus on his thoughts. His dreams were never anything he dwelled on when he woke from them, however, these recent nightmares were getting under his skin, and the worst of it was, he didn't understand why. He couldn't remember them when he woke up, but he could remember the feeling it gave him; the goosebumps upon his arms and the sweat that covered his body.

After he was done with his morning rituals, he dressed in gray sweats and a white T; then he met Alfred down in the dining room where he shook off his dreams and tried to enjoy his breakfast. Not that Alfred didn't know how to cook, but Bruce usually had so much on his mind that he didn't really stop and taste anything. "This is delicious Alfred, thank you."

"You are welcome Master Bruce. Planning on anything today?"

"Not sure. Thought I'd take a day to myself."

"Very good. I will be here, as always."

Bruce smiled at Alfred, then a thought hit him. "Hey, why don't you take a day to yourself. You never go out."

"Oh, you know my only joy in life is to babysit you."

"Come on Alfred. Go out and enjoy the town!" Bruce said with a laugh.

"Yes, I would love to enjoy the crime ridden streets of Gotham."

Bruce sighed and he dropped his fork down onto his plate. "All I am saying is that you should get out and do something. It isn't healthy being stuck indoors all day."

"It sounds as if you are trying to get rid of me."

Bruce stood and put his hands on Alfred's shoulders. "Go out. Enjoy yourself, instead of being cooped up here worrying about me. When's the last time you had a date."

"Date? Don't recall what that is."

"Exactly. Now go." he said, flipping Alfred around, and he gave him a gentle push towards the door.

"Fine fine. I will go. But I won't be happy about it, and will most likely be complaining the whole time."

"That's my Alfred." said Bruce giving him a smirk and he turned back to his food. Alfred left, completely unsure on what to do or where to go. His life had been all about the Wayne family and in quite recent years, just Bruce himself and serving him as he needed, but now that Alfred had time to himself, he had no idea what to do with it.

After Bruce had finished his breakfast, and cleaned it up so Alfred wouldn't have to, he decided he would go out. Better than sitting doing nothing here despite it being a Sunday. A nice stroll in the park followed by a big steak at his restaurant sounded great. So dressing in a dark gray slim fit three piece, his black hair combed back out of his face, he headed out.

It had not taken him so long to drive to Central Drive and into the city park. It had been an especially nice day out, the fall wind rustling through the few colorful trees, and gave him soft kisses upon his face. Stepping off the path that was provided for him, he made his way across the field towards the little pool of water in the center of the park. Ducks of all sizes and colors swam around inside it, and Bruce had wished he had taken some bread along to feed them, not that you were allowed to. So instead, he smiled softly at them, and stood quietly just a few feet away. The noise of children laughing and running about seemed distant as a feeling swept over him, and images flashed in his head. Deja vu.

"What cute little things aren't they? Duckies."

Bruce snapped out of his thoughts and looked over to the man that now stood beside him with a bag full of Wonder Bread. The man was several inches taller than him, standing about 6 foot 5 and wore black leather gloves, and Bruce could not see any part of him as he wore a thick dark hoodie to hide his face. The man brought the slice of bread up to his mouth and took a bite before throwing it to the ducks. Something about his voice, his structure. His voice was normal, but it had a hint of familiarity to it, and his stance was a little too . . . straight. "Would you like to feed them?"

Bruce smiled at the man and said "Sure."

The man, without looking over to Bruce, handed him a few slices of bread, then dipped his hand in for more and began chewing on it. "Aren't they cute." said the man with a mouthful.

"Oh um, yeah. They are cute." he said and threw a slice in the water and watched as the ducks swarmed around it.

"No. You can't just throw it all in. Tear it up in bits."

"Oh. Right." Bruce took the last slice of bread he had and tore it up piece by piece, throwing it in the water.

"There you go." said the man with another mouthful of bread and he threw the rest in, not bothering to tear it up.

Bruce smiled and shook his head. "Thank you for sharing with me. I was just thinking about feeding them, but I hadn't brought any food."

"Well, good thing I came along then." said the other man, and Bruce could pretty much hear the grin on his face.

The names Bruce. Bruce Wayne." said he and he reached a hand out for the stranger to take. "

The man then slouched over a bit. "Oh I know who you are. Heard so much about you."

"Ah. All good things I hope."

"Of course."

"And you are?"

"Not important."

"Not important? Why are you not important?"

The stranger was silent for a bit, before he turned away from Bruce and started to walk. "Well, it was nice meeting you."

"Wait. Hold on." said Bruce, grabbing his sleeve.

"If you want to find out, come back here, let's say at one a.m. and I will show you. Oh I do hope you show. Bye bye Brucie."

And with that he walked away. Brucie? Something about this stranger put him on edge, and deep down, he knew why, but it couldn't be. The Joker was in Arkham. Sure he had been known to escape quite a few times, but Batman would have heard by now if that was the case. No. It couldn't have been him. No chance.

But just in case.

Bruce rushed over to him, chasing him down, but he was already gone, lost in the waves of people.

"Home sweet home!" said The Joker with a wide grin. It sure was nice running into the bats like that, out in the open with no silly costume. He couldn't believe it.

The building he lived in was rather run down, the pale brown wall paper peeling from all corners of the room, windows tinted with dust. He flopped down on the couch that was torn and springy, and a cloud of dust flew up into the air, making the Joker cough and sneeze. "Yep. Home sweet home." he said as he looked around.

After a moment, he slipped out of his rather large hoodie, glad to be rid of it, and tossed it aside to the floor. He then took the gloves off and tossed them over his shoulder. Crossing his legs, he looked around again, then down at his lap. This place really did suck.

'Well, as a welcome home gift to myself,' he thought. 'Oh I do hope Batsy shows up and doesn't disappoint me. But will he show up as the Batman, or as Bruce Wayne?" Either way, he had to look his best for his Darling.