That night, after Aunt Harriet had gone to bed, Bruce went downstairs to the study, carrying a large bag behind him, and walked toward a tall grandfather clock.  He pressed a concealed button, and the clock slid away, revealing a locked door.  He took out a key and unlocked it, and then walked down a long flight of stairs, carved out of stone.  At the bottom of the stairs was a giant cavern, with stalagmites and rock formations all around, but a level, even floor carved out.  Halfway across the cave, Alfred was attending to a computer and its very large screen.

"This is amazing, Alfred!" Bruce said, listening as his voice echoed throughout the cavern.  He heard the flutter of bat wings, as the sound disrupted the animals' sleep. 

"A cave filled with bats is certainly fitting for this enterprise, Master Bruce."

"Where'd you get that computer?"

"With the funds, and some technology, of Wayne Enterprises, of course."

Bruce looked around at all of the machines and equipment dotting the ground of the cave.  "How long did all of this take?"
"Since I left you alone to pursue your fortune when you turned eighteen.  I came back here and have been amassing this collection ever since.  It might have taken less time and effort if your Aunt Harriet hadn't taken up residence.  I've tried most unsuccessfully to convince her to leave.  Still, I managed."

"You managed very well, Alfred.  You've got practically the whole FBI crime lab in here!"

"Well, not quite that much, Sir," Alfred said modestly.  Changing the subject, he walked over to a different area.  "Over here is the equipment section.  You can hang your costumes, and crimefighting tools.  Exactly what equipment you will put here, I leave up to your cognizance."

"Want to see some of it?" Bruce asked, dropping his bag on a table and beginning to pull things out. "This is my utility belt.  I converted it from the design of a World War 2 era Army ammo belt.  These pouches can hold anything from handcuffs to smoke pellets, lock-picking equipment, anything."  Bruce put the belt down and picked up another, much smaller object.  "This is what I call a batarang.  It's based on the design of the Australian boomerang."
"It's quite a bit smaller than a boomerang, is it not?"
"Well, yeah," Bruce said, looking a bit sheepish.   "It's not really a boomerang, it just kinda looks like one.  Because of the roughly bat-like design, you can attach a rope to it and throw it, and the prongs on the ends, the bat-wings, as it were, will catch a surface, like a grappling hook.  Or, as it's razor-sharp, you can throw it at someone like a ninja throwing star."

"Very good."

"Yeah, and there's also this gadget," Bruce said taking another item out of the bag, that looked slightly like a gun, but was shorter and had a much wider muzzle.  Attached to the end of the muzzle was another batarang.  "This will fire a batarang and rope with more power and distance than one can generate by hand.  Still, throwing it will generate more accuracy."

"That's quite nice, Sir.  It is refreshing to me to see proof that you haven't grown out of playing with toys."

Bruce smiled only slightly at the joke.  "There are gonna be a lot of criminals who will wish I didn't have these 'toys.'"

"Yes, of course, Sir.  Now, would you like to see the, uh, 'bat-costume,' if I may call it that?  I prepared it exactly to your specifications."

"Yes, thanks, Alfred.  I'd like to see it." 

Alfred stepped behind the equipment area, and pulled out a mannequin dressed in a full-body suit.  The shirt was gray with a black bat-shaped silhouette in the middle of the chest.  The pants were also gray with a blue midsection.  The costume had blue gloves, with bat-wing fins on them, and sturdy blue boots.  On the mannequin's head was a cowl that covered the back of the head, and the face down to the nose, with pointed bat-ears crowning each side.

"I tested the 'Kevlar-lite,' Sir.  It's will be of no help to deflect a bullet fired from within a yard or so, but past that, it deflects bullets almost as well as regular Kevlar.  And the freedom of movement it provides is exponentially greater than traditional Kevlar."  Wayne Enterprises had formulated a material that was referred to in the prototype stage as "Kevlar-lite."  It was not quite as resistant as Kevlar, but was nowhere near as bulky; it was almost as light as cloth.  Wayne Enterprises hadn't released it because of the legal issues of releasing a product so similar to the patented Kevlar, but, naturally, Bruce was able to obtain enough of the material to make three "bat-costumes" out of it. 

"Pardon my asking, Master Bruce." Alfred said, clearing his throat.  "But aren't you worried that the criminals will break out laughing rather than be in horror at the sight of this, uh, dare I say, circus costume?"

"It won't look like a circus costume when it's pitch black and I'm busting heads.  And this cape, see the way it's shaped?  When I'm swinging with that cape flying behind me, it's going to look like a bat's wings."

"Yes, I'm sure you're right, Sir.  Although, may I ask what, erm, inspired you to choose these particular colors?"

"It was back when I was seven years old.  I liked pretending that I was a knight in shining armor, fighting evil.  My mom made a costume for me, with those colors.  I guess the gray is supposed to be armor.  I'd run around outside, pretending to be 'The Caped Crusader.'"  Bruce was about to say more, but stopped.

"She would be very proud of you, Sir.  Of that I am quite sure.  I think she would be honored that you would wear her colors, and I'm terribly sorry that I made light of it."
"Don't worry about it.  Let's see how this thing fits." Bruce changed into the tight-fitting costume, and did a series of exercises and martial arts moves.

"Does it meet your approval, Master Bruce?"
"Not Bruce anymore, Alfred," The man behind the cowl said, gravely.  "When I'm wearing this, it's Batman," The thin line of his lips loosened somewhat, as he finished his final exercise.  "But to answer your question, yes, I think it'll do nicely."  Batman took off the heavy cowl one last time, wiped some sweat off of his forehead, and put it back on.  Walking over to a motorcycle parked off in a corner, he pressed a button on his utility belt.  Lenses fell down over the cowl's eyeholes.  "Night-vision works good, too.  Good job, Alfred."

"You are too kind, Sir."

"Enjoy it while it lasts," Batman said, his voice dropping an octave, almost becoming a growling whisper.  "When I come back here, I'll be a different person."  He got on the motorbike and rode away.

Continued…

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