"This is suicide."

"Oh C'mon..it's not that bad."

"You are literally committing suicide."

"Alfred!" Bruce groaned frustrated. He didn't see the flaw in his plan. It would work perfectly. Countless lives would be saved and multiple drug lords would be put rightly in their cells. Yes, he could die. Could. But he was Batman. The Batman! And Batman didn't die.

"I apologize sir, but I must agree with young Jason on this one. This is a highly naive plan. Sir, do you truly believe that The Joker won't try to kill you.

"Exactly! He'll try! But he won't be able to," Bruce started, flailing his hands around trying to get his point across. Disapproving faces spread across the room, and Bruce continued. "C'mon guys. Do you really think he'll be able to kill me? I'm batman, he won't be able to!"

Tim looked up from his lap and shook his head. "You'll get hurt. He'll hurt you."

"And I don't get hurt otherwise?!" Bruce exasperated. "It won't make much of a difference, only this time I won't be having my suit on 27/7."

Tim growled and stood up from the sofa. "That's exactly the point. Without that suit, he'll kill you! He won't know that it's batman that's standing on the end of his gun. He'll just think you're another disposable, pitiful, weak human."

"You're telling me this? With what you do? Do you think that I don't know about you sneaking out every night?" Tim twitched, and his stance staggered. Bruce knew he was getting to him. "Should I tell them? That you spend your night hanging out with your dear old friend ba-"

"OK OK...I'm with Batman on this one. I agree with him. This is a very smart, and responsible plan."

Everyone's jaw dropped, and Bruce smirked. His gaze turned to the other's sprawled across the sofa. "Please?...you know...it's not like you'll be able to stop me anyway. Besides I've already got my disguise in motion."

His hands reached up to unlock the helmet, and slowly pulled it off, revealing a set of dyed hazel brown hair that once used to be as dark as the night. His baby blue eyes now turned chocolate brown from the contacts that he was wearing. "Sooo...what do you guys think?"

To complete the look, Bruce shrugged off his batman suit, revealing a black shirt donned with a simple plaid shirt, and a pair of black jeans. There really was no colour, except for the red streaks criss crossing themselves on the plaid.

"Seriously? Matches Malone? Could you have picked no one else?"

"What? What's wrong with this?" Bruce pouted. Groans filled the air, and Bruce grinned. He knew he'd won.

"Alright," Jason breathed out. "But...there will be rules."

"Agreed," Alfred commented, followed by a couple nods from the rest of the gang.

"First, you'll contact one of us, every day. I don't care how you do it, just let us know you're alive. Two, you're taking your batsuit with you just in case. Three, if there is any danger, or threat of being killed...and no I don't care how big it is, you are going to come back. Oh, and one more thing," Jason spoke. "If that sick clown hurts you in any way or form, I'm going to come over there and beat him to death along with the rest of his gang. Alright?"

Bruce raised his hands in surrender, and squirmed a little with everyone's gaze pinning down on him. "Alright, Alright! Geez, sometimes I feel like you guys forget that I'm the adult here."

"Then learn act like one, and maybe grow a couple inches taller. Can't keep hiding your shortness with that batsuit, or your dress shoes." Cassandra snickered.

"HEY! I am not short!"

Bruce made his way back up to his room. It was strange being here at night. He was never in his bed at night. His normal routine usually consisted of spending the night running through the streets of Gotham, and catching petty thieves, along with a few criminal masterminds. On the unlucky days he'd bump into The Joker, and the rest of the night would be spent dancing his way through the Clown's games. He'd return at the brink of sunlight, where Alfred would be waiting for him to dress his wounds. Then came possibly 2-3 hours of dreamless sleep. When he woke again, life as Bruce Wayne would begin.

Yes it was unhealthy. Hell, it was horrible. Even on days where he took a break, sleep never came. Maybe it was because of the fact that he'd spend so long as batman. Night became morning, and the morning had become the night.

Entering the room, he was surprised to find Tim waiting for him inside.

"Tim?"

Tim didn't look up, and only stared down at his lap. "You knew?"

"Knew what?" Bruce asked confused.

"You know...me sneaking out at night, and hanging out with you know who."

Bruce looked down at the guilt stricken boy, and let out a chuckle. Did Tim think he was mad?

The boy looks up confused, tears welling up in his eyes threatening to fall out. "Y-you're not m-mad?"

And that only made Bruce laugh even more. "Me? Mad? Oh no...kid, I was never mad. I'd known a long time ago, about you hanging out with catwoman? Oh..no I'm not mad. Not even the slightest."

"...why?"

Bruce looked at the boy, and gave him a tired lopsided grin. "We've had..history going back for awhile now. Besides, we all deserve a little fun now and then, don't we, catlad?"

"W-w-wha...m-me? C-catlad?!" Tim stuttered, growing more flustered with every growing second. "N-no...that..I-I'm not!"

Bruce sighed, and ran his hand through the boy's black hair ruffling it up. "It's ok, kid. I think it's rather cute."

"Cute?!"

Bruce laughed as the boy's cheeks grew red. "Don't worry, I won't tell the others. Now go, I need to sleep before leaving tomorrow towards my ultimate doom."

The boy nodded, and dashed out the door, leaving Bruce to collapse onto his bed. Bruce had lied. No, he wasn't going to go to sleep. Sleep wasn't going to come either way. He just needed to be left alone, to think about tomorrow. Sighing, Bruce grabbed his laptop from the bedside and opened it, looking through his files once again, reviewing his role as Matches Malone, and the interview.

Bruce glanced at the clock. Yes, he could probably fit maybe 4 hours of sleep right now. Ehhhhh...do I really need it?

Yes, yes you do!

But do I really?

You're meeting the Joker tomorrow without your suit! You need to have your brain back up and running for tomorrow.

Bruce really was going to regret this tomorrow. Tearing his gaze of the clock, Bruce placed the laptop on his lap, and let his eyes scroll through the screen once again. Oh he was definitely going to regret this.