Saoirse was staring at the news, her forgotten spoon of cornflakes hovering halfway to her mouth. As the hazy video clip replayed itself on the expensive screen, ideas started forming in her mind, unthinkable,impossible notions...

And yet...

Her spoon clattered loudly against the glass bowl as she stood up and hurriedly dragged a hoodie over her head, almost running into the wall in her haste to leave. As she ascended the many floors of Wayne Tower, her thoughts were pounding painfully as they pelted around the inside of her skull. She felt dizzier as the elevator continued to rise, not yet believing the inevitable conclusion she was drawing. If what she had seen on the news was true... then that would mean it had been hers... No-one else could have been responsible... and if it had been hers... then that would mean –

Speculating was useless, she needed to get hold of Lucius Fox and have her theory proved or disproved once and for all. The elevator doors soon opened and as she hurtled along the corridor, she knocked a stack of papers from some employee's hands which sent files flying all over the place. Cursing beneath her breath, she scrunched some of the surrounding papers together and handed the grubby wad back to the disgruntled employee before setting off for the board room. She walked into the secretary's office who's initial smile faded when she realised Saoirse wasn't going to wait for the meeting to adjourn. 'Ms Nolan, if you'd kindly wait –' But her sentence was cut short as Saoirse flung open the double doors and strode into the packed board room. One of the board members was making an incredibly dull presentation on the profit margin of Wayne Enterprise but stopped upon seeing the scruffy intruder. Saoirse's eyes didn't stray from Mr Fox once she'd located his position near the top of the table.

'Is everything alright Ms Nolan?' He asked calmly as if her intrusion had been a scheduled visit.

'I need to speak with you.' She replied coldly.

'Concerning...?'

'An emergency which only you can help me to solve.'

'Saoirse, surly this can wait till the meeting finishes?' Saoirse's gaze didn't stray from Mr Fox's, but she recognised the velvety voice instantly. Bruce was sitting at the head of the table, looking completely nonplussed by this change in events. 'Feel free to draw yourself a chair; you may be able to point out some of the mistakes my employees have carelessly made in their calculations.' Saoirse was so thrown by what she had seen on the news that she didn't acknowledge Bruce's words, her gaze remained fixated on Mr Fox.

'You know I wouldn't ask if it was something I could solve on my own.' She said quietly. Mr Fox surveyed the rest of the board for a moment, his gaze finally resting on Bruce. Bruce nodded after a moment of silent communication.

'It actually works in my favour that this meeting ends early; I have some things to do at Wayne Manor.' Bruce said while shrugging, ignoring the looks of dissatisfaction from his fellow board members, especially the man who was in the middle of his presentation.

'Very well.' Fox murmured as he rose. Two minutes later, they were striding down the carpeted corridor, Saoirse's head spinning as she tried to put into words a theory which sounded so ridiculous that once voiced, the consequences may include being carted off to Arkham Asylum on the grounds that she had gone mental. 'Ms Nolan, what seems to be the problem?' Mr Fox asked, making her jump.

'Not here.' She muttered and continued towards Mr Fox's Office. In a second they were in the concealed elevator and heading towards the Applied Science Department, Saoirse trying to ignore the worried looks Mr Fox kept shooting at her. Her heart was pounding less erratically, though her ears felt strangely clogged as if she had been underwater for the past half an hour. As the lift eventually slowed to a halt and opened its doors, Saoirse stalked towards the table where she had abandoned her cereal and pointed at the T.V set. 'That. That's what's wrong.' She said testily. Mr Fox picked up the remote and turned up the volume, allowing the nasal voice of the anchorwoman to permeate the large room.

'...the footage submitted by an anonymous informant has created shockwaves around the country today. Clearly shown is Batman being attacked by a volley of bullets but instead of being torn to shreds, the bullets deflect from his body as if repelled by some invisible force to certain areas on the wall behind him. Experts are suggesting powerful magnetism is disrupting the bullets direction, pulling them to certain areas and allowing the Batman to escape from harm. This display has piqued the interest in the United States Military who are appalled that such a device exists and is not in their control...' Saoirse rounded on Fox as he suddenly muted the broadcast. He wore a very grim expression, looking much older than usual. Neither spoke for a moment and Saoirse realised this silence meant her theory was not as ludicrous as she had initially thought.

'The only person who has ever created a device which can successfully deflect live bullets... is me.' Saoirse said quietly. Mr Fox's face was hardened; he seemed to be doing some very quick thinking. The crease between his brows was so absolute; it seemed it would remain on his face for the rest of his days. 'Don't lie to me Lucius, that contraption on the news... the one Batman used, is identical to the one I demonstrated to you after I created it. If I go over to Block B and search for it... am I going to find it there?' Her voice was barely a whisper now. After a few tense minutes, the muscles had relaxed on Fox's face, the crease smoothing into the rest of his dark skin. His eyes held a shrewd look as he surveyed her, obviously calculating how much he should or should not say. Instead of answering Saoirse's query, he strode towards Block B and after a moment of fidgeting, opened the drawer containing Saoirse's prototypes. A lead weight slipped into Saoirse's stomach when the case was opened and the padded interior yielded an empty core. She placed a hand on one of the nearby shelves to keep her steady on her feet. 'You mean to tell me... that I... my invention... he had access... he used...'

'Yes.' Fox reluctantly admitted. Saoirse ogled Fox for a moment, trying to ignore the fact that her slightly ajar mouth was giving her the look of a deranged person. Fox took a deep breath and plunged headfirst into his story. 'Look around you Saoirse... this entire wing isn't only dedicated to the obtaining of dangerous weapons and hiding them from the American Military; it has a far more noble function than that.' He began quietly.

'We supply his gadgets and weapons...?' Saoirse asked weakly, unable to properly process what Fox was saying.

'More than that. This is his baby, his eyes and ears, the golden egg of all his information. Without this place, he wouldn't be able to function very well as Batman.'

'B-But...the T-Tumbler, the suit...'

'Who do you know in Gotham who has the talent and not to mention the facilities to create such feats of engineering?' Mr Fox asked with a quirked brow. 'If you don't believe me, pull a few files from the archives, you'll find the necessary sketches to back up my answer.' He finished impatiently.

'Y-You...?'

'Yes. Me. And now it seems, also you.'

'But I –'

'You were indirectly involved but you were too smart to let something this obvious pass you by. And now my position has been compromised as I had to divulge this top secret information to you.'

'We... I... '

'Saoirse you must promise you will not tell another soul about this. Your department along with your dream job will be snuffed forever if you do. And though I hate to admit it, the police are no match for the Joker; Batman needs the necessary equipment he has here in order to return him to the asylum.' Saoirse said nothing, preferring to stare glumly at the floor instead. Confirming her theory had provided no sense of triumph whatsoever. Only the converse was true, she was feeling exceedingly anxious about her hypothesis being proven and the impeding consequences which were surely on the way. 'Saoirse?'

'So what you're asking me...' She began slowly. '...is to keep his secret?'

'I know for a fact this isn't the way he wanted you to find out... but Mr Wayne can have no say in the matter at this late stage.' Fox closed the lid of the empty casket and closed the drawer once more. He began walking away but stopped when he realised Saoirse wasn't following him. He turned to find her rooted to the spot, her brow creased in concentration.

'Why would it matter to Bruce if he knew I was aware that this department makes weapons for Batman?' She murmured to herself. Her bewildered eyes met Mr Fox's and she could see from his startled expression that he had assumed she'd known more than she had. Ten confused seconds passed until her eyes widened as if a horrific realisation had dawned on her. She felt her eyes water as the pieces fell into their unlikely places. 'Bruce Wayne... is...Batman...?' She said breathlessly, awe and shock mingling on her features. The astronomical proportions of this epiphany were staggering. She glanced up to find her realisation confirmed by Fox's facial expression. He looked positively livid, clearly furious with himself for assuming Saoirse had already figured out this crucial element of Batman's secret. Her blood pounding loudly in her ears, Saoirse sprang from her seat and pelted towards the concealed elevator, knowing unconsciously that it was essential she escaped from Fox's presence before anything happened which would be outside of her own control. She slammed the door shut and pressed herself against the side of the elevator, her chest still heaving as the elevator began to rise, leaving Fox behind. All thoughts of what would happen next were violently pushed asunder, the only thought bashing around her skull consisted of three words: Bruce is Batman, Bruce is Batman, Bruce is Batman...

She nearly fell out of the elevator in Mr Fox's pretend office but quickly hurtled towards the elevator which would take her down to the main lobby. Just as she was about to press the button, her hand withdrew sharply as if it had been electrocuted. She peered down through the glass doors and could see the passengers through the clear walls of the rising elevator. None of them were average Wayne Enterprise employees; they looked as if they were all from the security section. What were they doing coming all the way up here?

Then it hit her, they were searching for her. Fox had probably told them that she needed to be found as she had valuable information concerning Wayne Tower. Hurrying away from the elevator and doing her best not to panic, Saoirse burst through the emergency stair doorway and hurried down a few flights of stairs. She proceeded to fumble in her rucksack and produced one of her latest creations, a very slim but sturdy harness. She quickly attached it to the front of her jeans and then looped the opposite end around the highly polished oak banister. Ignoring the long drop beneath her, Saoirse hoisted herself over the railing and steadily placed both feet on the outskirts of the steps. She tugged on the harness and was pleased to see that it held nicely. Swallowing any remnants of fear, she gently pushed off from the banister and allowed herself to dangle in midair for a few seconds. She tucked her elbows and legs in before hitting a button around her waist and allowing a huge surplus of slack wire to escape from the front of her jeans. There was a slight delayed reaction before she was suddenly rocketing towards the far away ground, floors of stairs blurring past her as she descended the many levels of Wayne Tower. Less than twenty seconds later, she pressed another button and the contraption skidded to an uncomfortable halt, Saoirse finding herself some three stories from the ground floor. She swung herself onto the railing, unclipped her harness and hurtled down the last remaining flights of stairs, her legs feeling more like jelly with each hurried step. She found herself in the Wayne Tower lobby and had to almost physically restrain herself from running out towards the gloomy Wednesday morning. She walked as nonchalantly as she could manage; her eyes peeled for any trace of security guards or Mr Fox. She reached the revolving doors without incident and quickly hurried through them. It wasn't long before she was in her car hurtling towards the one place which held answers: Wayne Manor.

Some twenty minutes later, she abandoned her car on the crunchy drive and hurried up the steps towards the magnificent manor. The doorbell was clanging loudly within seconds but no smiling butler greeted her at the door. Se rang again but no change. Saoirse hadn't come all this way to be ignored so she circled the house, looking for an easy way to get inside. After some snooping, she was able to negotiate a pair of windows open and stepped inside the old house. After closing the windows, she immediately began her search for the master of the house. 'BRUCE? WHERE ARE YOU? WE NEED TO TALK!' She called as she passed from room to luxurious room, wondering where he could be hiding. The kitchen revealed nothing but well stocked cupboards and freezers, the breakfast room was deserted and his usual reading haunt was also empty. She went upstairs, searched the library thoroughly and realised there might be the faint possibility that Bruce wasn't hiding from her, he was simply absent from home. She found herself inside an adjoining smaller room holding a few small bookshelves and a magnificent piano and decided to wait for his return in here. She sat in one of the plush armchairs and drummed her fingers on the armrest with obvious impatience. As her mind returned to the mind-boggling epiphany concerning Bruce, some of her certainty began to leak away. Was this perhaps all part of some elaborate joke? Though April 1st was nowhere in sight, she wouldn't put it past Bruce to pull something like this. How could Bruce be Batman? He didn't seem to possess the moral fibre necessary to carry the enormous burden which the Dark Knight shouldered almost every evening. Granted having access to the correct equipment seemed to fall in Bruce's favour but was it possible that he possessed the chivalrous and noble character necessary to don the cowl and cape? It seemed preposterous to think that it had been Bruce who had come to Saoirse's aid during the Taxi driver incident, that it had been Bruce who had constantly been on the roof of the Police headquarters, offering her advice on how to deal with the cops, that it had been Bruce who had come to help her escape from the warehouse where her father had kept her prisoner... If she had unmasked him when he was unconscious in the back of her car, would the handsome face of the playboy billionaire been revealed? Saoirse had unearthed some surprising aspects concerning Bruce's character but how deep did these revelations go? And if by some bizarre twist of fate that Batman was Bruce, why, why had he taken such a rash stance against the criminal underworld of Gotham? What had driven him to such extreme methods?

Saoirse's head felt as if it would explode with the furious tumult of questions angrily circulating in her head. She rose and approached the piano, allowing her fingers to trace the ivory keys of the; she had always yearned to play but had never been taught how. Just as she was about to draw her fingers away and be assaulted by fresh waves of confused bewilderment, she felt a small irregularity beneath her fingertips. She paused, her fingers resting on two adjacent keys which felt significantly worse for wear compared with their gleaming counterparts. Saoirse ran her fingers over the ivory keys again, feeling the distinct worn away pattern which these two particular keys possessed. It was as if someone had repeatedly pressed these two keys together and had no interest in pressing the others surrounding them. She pressed them down, the notes clashing due to being only a tone apart but nothing extraordinary happened. Her fingertips left these curious keys and traced upwards to the higher ranges. To her astonishment, some octave and a half higher, two keys side by side were also significantly well worn compared with their neighbours. She pressed these keys down as well wondering why someone had repeatedly pressed them until the ivory had slightly worn away. Saoirse allowed her fingers to stray even higher until she felt one last duo of notes which had also been pressed together many times before. Her fingers stretched up and down the keyboard a few more times, each time confirming the trio of two side by side notes which had received a huge amount of attention compared with the rest of the piano. She softly pressed them each in turn, her curiosity alight. Just as her fingers pressed down the highest pitched duo, there was a soft click ahead of her. Saoirse's eyes snapped up and she saw a secret door swing inwards, inviting her into the mysterious depths of Wayne Manor. She tried to contain her amazement at this twist in events but failed miserably, far too many strange encounters had happened today. She approached the door with caution; the path ahead lay cloaked in shadow. She retrieved her phone, activated the flashlight and set off down the hidden passage.