Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own Batman or anything associated with Batman. But I do own Nicole, Becky, Alex and whatever other characters that are mine. Sadly, I don't make money off of them either.
AN: The first 9 chapters have been re-edited for grammatical errors that I didn't catch. None of the content has changed so there's no need to re-read the chapters unless you want to.
"Bright and early for the daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere"
-Mad World by Gary Jules
She was woken from her blissful slumber by a loud, repetitive beeping. Cracking an eye open, Nicole searched for the offensive noise before realizing it wasn't her alarm clock. A peak at the time told her it was 6 A.M. Great, she thought. She didn't have to be up for at least another hour. She tried to settle back into bed as the beeping from her roommate's alarm continued. Clearly, Rebecca either hadn't come home last night or hadn't awoken. After another five minutes of lying with the pillow clamped over her head, Nicole begrudgingly left the warmth of her tiny bed. She was going to kill that damn alarm clock if it was the last thing she ever did.
Without bothering to knock, Nicole barged into her roommate's room and unplugged the offending machine. She turned to see her roommate still in the blissful throws of sleep. Well that just wouldn't do.
"Becky, rise and shine." No answer. "Becky. Time to get up, you're going to be late." That elicited a grunt. Quickly abandoning all patience, Nicole picked up the stray pillow and whopped her roommate in the head with it.
"Ugh, what is with you," the half asleep curly haired vixen mumbled.
"Becky, you're late," was all Nicole had to say.
"Oh Shit," Rebecca exclaimed as she scurried from the bed and into the bathroom, slamming the door shut. Rebecca was a brilliant and beautiful engineering graduate student at Gotham University. Despite her beauty and her brains, she had a nasty habit of being late to everything--including important Monday morning teleconferences.
Nicole stalked back to her room and collapsed back into bed. She wasn't what you would call a morning person. Just as sleep started to claim her, Rebecca's cell phone alarm, always set as a backup, began time chime.
"Great," she mumbled through clenched teeth.
Realizing that sleep was futile, Nicole turned her own alarm off before it went off and climbed out of bed. She collected her clothes and made her way to her own bathroom to get ready for the day ahead.
Alfred Pennyworth went about his usual morning routine of making breakfast for his master. After mixing the strange concoction that his master drank--he wasn't quite sure how his charge could drink the foul smelling thing--he placed it on the tray along with a variety of fruit and toast. One look at the Gotham Daily's front page headline told him where his young master would be.
After making his way through the maze of corridors of the newly rebuilt Wayne Manor, Alfred descended into the Bat Cave. He took note of the discarded cowl and gloves and looked toward the massive computing area. He could see the top of his master's head sticking up from the back of the chair as he researched something on the massive screens.
"Good morning, master Wayne," he said, sitting the tray down on a nearby table. "I assume it was an uneventful night"
His young charge never even looked away from the computer screen.
With a sigh, Alfred realized that whatever Bruce Wayne was researching had his full attention and that it would be best to leave him undisturbed. Before making his way back up to the massive manor he turned and gazed impassively at his young charge.
"Master Wayne, do remember to eat your breakfast. And try to remember that you have a meeting at 10 AM at the office today. Lucius will get rather cranky if you miss it."
With that, the aging butler turned and ascended the stairs, leaving the much younger man to his work.
Nicole bounded down the stairs of her townhouse and headed toward the kitchen, only stopping to turn on the TV. The young brunette had virtually the same routine every morning--wake up, shower, eat breakfast with the news, then it was off to work. Her first task was to get a glass from the cabinet. Stretching on her tip toes, the 5'3" woman managed to grab a glass from the back corner. She was on the short side of average, if not just plain short all together. She was an average, healthy weight, though she would never be considered thin by celebrity standards. That was fine by her. She liked food too much.
Opening the refrigerator she poured herself a cup of soda since she was craving caffeine--it was the one vice she actually had--and selected the remnants of last night's pizza for breakfast. She carried her selection to the couch in the other room, where she proceeded to stretch out, eat, and listen to the news. That was until she was hit in the head with a rolled up newspaper.
"Sorry Nikki! You know I have bad aim!" Rebecca said laughing. "I'm on my way out. Want to meet for dinner this afternoon at our typical place?"
Swallowing the last bit of pizza in her mouth, she nodded. "Sure, sounds great."
At her answer, Rebecca, curls bouncing behind her, walked out the door to start her day. For Nicole's part, she unrolled the Gotham Daily and studied the headline that proclaimed "Sixth Body of Calendar Killer Found." She read over the article briefly before laying the paper down and getting up to discard her trash. Realizing the time she walked into the living room to turn off the TV when the news report caught her attention
Pictures of Bruce Wayne with his latest arm candy fluttered across the screen. She really didn't understand the media's, or her co-workers' for that matter, fixation on the man. Sure he was attractive. Sure he was rich. But did we really need to know every single moment of his life? She briefly thought if the media could, they would go so far as to sell his half eaten sandwich on E-Bay. With a laugh she turned the TV off and collected her things. She had places to be.
Gordon sat in his office, staring at the latest victim's pictures, trying to find something. Detective Pruitt was bringing Alex Harper in for routine questioning within the next few minutes. The longer Gordon stared at the pictures, the more convinced he became that the Harper kid couldn't have done it. Why kill five other women first if you wanted your girlfriend dead? Sure it could have been for practice but the boy didn't seem like the type. A rap on the door caused him to look up.
"Sir, Harper is here. I put him Interrogation Room 1. He's waiting for you." Pruitt said. The commissioner nodded to him and followed the man down the hall and into the interrogation room.
In front of him sat a man around the age of 19. His blue eyes were red and swollen and he was pallid. The man with dark, spiked hair would be considered attractive and would have virtually no trouble picking up women. His shirt, bearing the letters of the Gamma Sigma Fraternity, virtually ensured the fact that he would have access to plenty of girls. Gordon briefly wondered why and if a guy like this could kill.
"Alex Harper. It says that you knew Miranda Johnson. Is that correct?" Gordon asked the young man.
"She is -was- my girlfriend," he replied, tiredly.
Gordon felt sorry for the boy. It was obvious he had cared at least. "Have you had any fights recently? Did you cheat on her? Did she cheat on you?"
"Wha-no! She would never. Geez I would never! I loved her," Alex exclaimed, his face hardening.
Gordon sighed, then said, "I know this is hard Alex. But I need to ask these questions. Now, do you know anyone that would want to hurt Miranda?"
Alex thought for a minute before saying "No. I can't think of anyone. She had the typical disagreements with her sorority sisters over silly things like who was going to be the designated driver or something. Stupid shit. But they would never hurt her. They loved her. Did you know she was president elect of Delta Zeta for the next year? No. They wouldn't have hurt her. She was nice to everyone."
Gordon nodded. After more routine and in depth questioning, Gordon didn't think that this guy was behind anything more severe than recreational use of pot. "Well then, I guess you're free to go."
Alex nodded and wordlessly walked to the door. Before exiting he turned back to face Gordon with a look of intense despair. "Commissioner, find who did this. Find who killed her," and with that, Alex walked out the door.
He sat on the patio of the coffee shop he frequented enjoying the light summer morning breeze. So they finally found her, he thought as he took a sip of his iced latte. He had left her perfectly positioned on the battery wall. It looked as though she was enjoying the view. He hadn't counted on the storm to come up and wash her body away. It pained him to think that his art was ruined. It would be alright though. There were other girls, but more importantly, other holidays. In fact, one was coming soon.
AN: Ok guys, I know this chapter was a bit slower. The good stuff is coming, but you know, plot development and all that fun stuff. The next chapter will have more Bruce in it. Also, I know the chapters have been a little short so far. They will get longer. I know where I want this to go, I'm just getting some of the initial stuff out of the way. But hopefully, those of you that are reading it, if there is anyone reading it, enjoy it so far. Leave a review if you like. Though not required, they are appreciated. I like to know if I'm doing well since its the first fanfic I've ever really done.