Title: Life Is Good

Author: DC Luder

Summary: The second addition in the Series of Three storyline. Set three months after his full recovery, the Dark Knight is back with a vengeance.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: This chapter ahs been modified from its original version.

^V^

Although I had slept soundly at Barbara's, spending the most of the day in front of a computer helping research the suspects taken into custody had promptly drained me of any energy that had accumulated. While I had complained endlessly, Barbara had showed no sympathy. While I tried to conjure a defense, she had been busy pointing out that she had gone to sleep after me, woken up before and spent even more time working that Saturday.

Hence when a call from the precinct asking for me to fill in for part of a shift was music to my ears.

Leaving Gotham at before two, I somehow made it to Bludhaven in less than forty minutes. With a clean uniform waiting for me in the locker rooms, I was able to bypass my apartment and head directly over, changing before clocking in. Making my way to scheduling, I smiled at the ill-tempered man sitting behind his never peaceful desk, "Hey, Sarge."

"Grayson, don't you have something better to do on a Saturday than showcase those dimples?" Sergeant Emmerson sighed.

Shrugging, I replied with a scowl, "You would think so."

He cleared his throat before looking up from the blinking lights of unanswered calls on his phone, "Clarks is swinging by to pick you up."

"Who was he riding with, Jonesy?" I guessed.

"No… Reynolds. Poor bastard has food poisoning, nearly shat himself in the car."

Poor bastard indeed. He would be the brunt of jokes for at least a week, or until something funnier happened to another officer. Before heading back down to the ground level, I thanked Emmerson for calling me in.

He shrugged, "Figured a young guy like yourself can never have too many hours on the payroll."

I had more in my personal checking account than he made in a year.

Making it to street level, I spotted a black-and-white idle in front of the station. Jogging down the steps, I opened the passenger side door before settling in. Joe Clark, affectionately called Clarks, smirked at me from behind the wheel, "Long time no see, Grayson…"

He was only a year older than I at twenty-four and yet he was already married and had a three-year-old daughter named Hannah. We had gone through the academy together and managed to get assigned to the same precinct. Thanks to the wise, learned and aged officers on staff, we were often referred to as the "kids". Rarely were we assigned to patrol together, a running joke that we would only go out and play at the arcade or go see a 3D matinee.

Smirking, I sat back, "Hey, the second Sarge said you needed backup, I was sold."

Clarks pulled out into traffic, reporting back on duty to dispatch. As he cruised up the street, he waited for them to copy before asking, "You look like you had a fun night."

I smirked, "Yeah, went and saw a few friends in Gotham… Ended up having a late night, didn't even get to bed until nearly four."

Clarks nodded, "Nice… I miss that… going out… Last night I watched Finding Nemo for the one millionth time with Hannah, fell asleep on the couch and woke up with my wife yelling at me for not taking the dog out at eleven…" He shook his head before turning onto Brady Ave, "Tell you what, Dick, don't get married. Stay gold, Ponyboy. Stay gold."

We worked our way through the commercial district, responding to three domestic disturbances and six calls of shoplifting. Nothing that patience and procedure couldn't handle. Although outwardly I chatted while we went from call to call, my mind was replaying the previous night over and over again. It was supposed to have been a quiet night, easing Bruce back into the swing of things. Instead, he had been dealt an inmate escaping, a fight with a dozen armed men and a bullet wound.

Barbara had pointed out that technically, it was an easy night for Batman.

Still…

"Yoohoo?"

I looked over to Clarks as he snapped his fingers at me, "What?"

"Going in to grab a coffee, I was asking if you wanted one, but I'll make sure it's dark roast."

"Thanks, man."

While he ran into the bakery, I checked my mobile, not surprised to find a message form Barbara. Police had found both of the vehicles Harvey had used during his escape, one dumped in Irving Grove and the other in the Bowery. They were scanning the area for possible witness, but I knew that was just going to be a waste of manpower. Glancing out the windshield, I noted that Clarks was chatting up the cashier, giving me ample time to check in with Barbara.

"How goes the beat?" she greeted me.

"Beat-ful. How was lunch with your Dad?"

"Good… Although his mind was elsewhere for ninety percent of the meal."

"Yeah, I bet… I'm going to close this shift then I'll be back over."

She paused before saying, "Okay. I'll let Bruce know."

As Clarks returned, I put my phone away, taking the warm coffee cup and nodding my thanks. He settled in before asking, "Who was that?"

"Girlfriend."

"Really? Didn't think you had one for some reason…" he shook his head before putting the car into drive.

"Why not? You think I'm that ugly?"

Clarks laughed, "No, it's not that… it's just… the way you work… you act like it's all you have."

He pulled back out onto the street while I defended myself, "Well, she understands, her dad's in GCPD."

"Talk about workaholics… heard that another looney toon escaped from the bin… As messed up as the Haven is, at least we don't have to worry about Two-Face and the Joker…"

I was about to respond that no one had to worry about the Joker now that he was in chemical sedation as a means of imprisonment, but a flash of movement caught my eye. An eighteen-year-old Caucasian male eyeing us warily, sporting a trench coat despite the warm, summer air. As I looked closer, there was a red strap of leather peeking out from his coat, which was attached to a purse.

Our eyes met briefly as we pulled up to a stop light and he bolted.

"We got a runner," I said before jumping out of the car.

He had a good lead on me, bumping into pedestrians and even knocking a few to the ground without even looking back. I did my best the check them as I ran by, seeing only minor scrapes and angry faces. At the red light, he dodged into a service alley leading to the rear entrance of the Patterson Hotel. I followed and retrieved my radio from my belt, "Officer Grasyon in pursuit of eighteen-year-old white male suspect, wearing beige leather coat, dark shorts, has dark hair, approximately six feet, one-sixty five. Heading North towards Clearview. Over"

I heard sirens flare up as Clarks went around in the opposite direction in hopes of cutting him off. The inevitable chain-link fence appeared, segmenting the alley property with the east side and west side of the hotel. Being that he was tall and slender and had a good dose of adrenaline pumping in his veins, he could have easily glided over the fence.

If I had let him.

"Police, stay where you are!" I called out as he closed in on the fence. I jumped up onto a dumpster and flipped over him, landed between him and the fence. The boy skidded to a stop, nearly colliding into me. His face was younger up close, now flushed and sweaty.

His eyes grew wide in fear as I grabbed him by the arm, shoving him face first into the fence before ordering him to stand still while I patted him down while growling, "I hate running in these shoes."

Just as I reached his waist, his wrist flew at to his side, returning with a small switchblade. I shook my head and threw a roundhouse that caused the knife to go airborne. His meager fists attempted to pound at my face, but his every attempt was blocked and returned with quick painful jabs to his stomach.

After four blows, he was down on the ground, coughing while being cuffed. I fished out the purse and ordered him to lay still as I stood behind him. As far as he knew, my gun was drawn. The driver's license belonged to a Marie Carter of the southern end of 'Haven, twenty-three years old with bright red hair and a worried smile. Her wallet held a Visa card and forty dollars and a number of store club cards ranging from Petco to CVS.

Clarks pulled up the alley not a moment later with another squad car behind him. While I helped the perp to his feet, I read him his Miranda rights in front of the other officers before loading him in the back of our car. Door closed, I leaned against the passenger side, pretending to be out of breath, "Bastard can run, I'll give him that."

Officer Cole from the second car laughed, "Better'n a treadmill, chasing down purse snatchers." He paused to pat the small bulge above his belt before adding, "Too bad I keep sending the rookie on the chases while I sit in the car…"

They continued joking amongst themselves while I sat heavily in the passenger seat, radioing into dispatch. I also asked if anyone had reported a purse being snatched, giving the ID information from the wallet. After a moment, the operator on the other end replied, "No, but that matches a homicide that was just called in."

Clarks was right, the Haven didn't have mastermind criminals.

What we had was a teenaged boy killing a random woman for forty bucks.

Which, in my book, was just as bad… if not worse.

^V^

In my years of service to Gotham City, I had always been baffled that when a prisoner escape took place the police force was struck with the harshest criticism as opposed to the establishments responsible for containing said escapee. There was always some upheaval over the fact that there needed to be more security measures and more staff to keep prisoners and inmates in line, but never enough. Within hours of an escape, citizens and officials alike demanded that the police go above and beyond the call of duty in order to make the city safe again.

As if we weren't trying to do so already.

Since Harvey's escape the night before, I had been inundated with calls from the press, the tabloids, victims' families, mental health activists and the mayor's office. For the most part, the calls were left unanswered, seeing how sitting and talking on the phone had no part in a manhunt. I had made it the office one last time a little after two in the morning, once the scene at the warehouse and the van crash had been secured. Even then my voicemail was full with angry complaints and overwhelming inquiries. I had opted to delete them all before leaving, rationalizing that if they really wanted to talk to me, they'd call back in the morning or they could come and see me in person.

Getting to bed late, I found myself still waking at quarter of seven feeling exhausted. Despite all I had seen and endured in my life, I didn't usually dream but that night I had found myself tossing and turning. Dark shadows and loud bangs had tortured me and something else that faded the moment I woke. I had been unable to piece it together until I was shaving, nicking myself good enough to draw blood.

I had been dreaming of Bruce, jumping into the line of fire… sacrificing his life for mine.

Although I had been let into the Family, I had not been informed of Bruce's return. Looking back, I realized that it had most likely been his plan all along, to drop in on me one night as if nothing had ever happened. The second I had heard his voice, my heart had skipped a beat before it started pounding through my chest. My eyes had a hard time convincing my brain that it had been him standing before me and not Dick.

As if nothing had ever happened.

Watching the morning news over a cup of dark roast, an English muffin and a cigarette, I had felt dread filling me at the mere thought of going in to work. Switching off the television, I had rinsed my mug and plate, putting them in the drying tack just as my cell phone rang. I had left it in the charger in the den, forcing me to walk as quickly as possibly to catch it in time.

"Hello?"

The lead on the warehouse fiasco had answered, "Sir, it's Reynolds."

"Good morning to you, too…"

"Figured you'd want to know first thing, we've got a name off of the VIN. Running it through everything we can but so far, nothing."

"So you called me at quarter after seven in the morning to tell me you have nothing?"

"Uh… no, sir… The name matches the same one we pulled off of the serial numbers for the gun."

"So you have a lot of nothing then…" I had sighed before saying, "Well, at least it's something, I'll be in by nine."

"All right, sir."

Dropping by to see Barbara had brightened my morning considerably. I had tried to contain my barrage of questions about Bruce's return and their work at the warehouse. Since Dick had told me the truth a year earlier, I had done my best to try and separate life from work, just as they had for years. I had attended dinners at the Manor, socialized with them at functions in the city and the far in between random visits. They harassed one another, they reminisced, they laughed at Mattie's antics.

And yet the dark part of their lives never surfaced.

It was no wonder they were able to hide their identities so well.

Barbara had sensed my unease and had agreed to lunch. I had suspected that she partly wanted to take my mind off of Harvey Dent running free, but also to make sure I ate something. The hours lapsing between seeing her went as expected, the continuous stream of phone calls, worthless tips trickling through and getting updates from Special Crimes. There had been some progress in looking into the actual escape, but the lead ended up being our Mr. Red Herring.

To make the morning more interesting, there was a hostage situation at First National Bank. Thankfully, when the suspect had tried to ignite his explosive to break into the vault, he had incidentally put himself and his two allies into the burn ward. Even still, I arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early, half-expecting Barbara to be there already. Then again, she was having just as busy of a day as I was…

As I sat at the corner table, nursing an iced tea, I smiled at the thought of his return. Years earlier, when he had returned after being broken by Bane, I had been relieved beyond words. And once more, he had returned to wage his war on crime, taking back the night. This time, I thought to myself, it was different.

There was a face behind the mask. There was a man, a father, a soon-to-be husband.

I had always envisioned him as a force of nature, a superior being as opposed to just being human. When we had fought during No Man's Land, he had offered me his identity, saying it was the only thing he had left to give me. I had refused, saying that if I had wanted to know who was behind the mask, that I would. Hell, when Dick had told me the truth, he had practically confirmed suspicions that were nearly two decades old.

I didn't want to know, because I didn't want to see what was underneath the mask.

And now…

"Dad?" I heard Barbara's voice from behind me.

Without even looking, I rose and pushed the chair out of the way so that she could sit next to me. She had changed into khaki capris and a sleeveless blank shirt, prepared for the warm summer day as opposed from the climate controlled Clocktower. After I leaned over and kissed her cheek, Barbara smiled, "So, what's good here?"

"Anything," I replied as I signaled the waiter that we were ready. Barbara ordered a glass of iced tea as well and we decided to start off with house salads.

"I've driven by here but never actually ventured in. Dick said it was great, but then again he says that about anyplace he can eat at."

I smiled, "Yeah. He's not too picky."

Her drink arrived, as did the house salads. After a few moments, she spoke, "So."

I swallowed and wiped a smidge of dressing off of my lower lip. "So."

Putting her fork down, she answered my unasked question, "He's been training since May… with Dick and Cassandra. After everything came back, really it was just a matter of regaining his strength and reflexes… He's practically worked nonstop…any minute he hasn't been at work or with Selina and Mattie… he's been down there, trying to get back to where he was."

Sighing, I found myself asking, "And what does Selina think?"

Barbara's eyes belied her words, "She's happy for him… I mean, he defeated so many odds… I know it's hard, not having him around after having him practically home twenty-four-seven…"

I nodded, "I could imagine…"

"And thankfully they're finally starting to work on the wedding, so at least she'll have that to distract her from…"

The waiter returned and I realized we hadn't decided on anything. Barbara quickly ordered the lunch special, broccoli and feta pasta bowl while I opted for battered Boston cod and fries.

When we were alone, she sighed, "Dick's worried he's going to pick you."

"What?" I replied, as I stabbed a cherry tomato.

She shifted to better face me, "You've known him longer than any of us… Been through more with him… and it's not like he has any friends, really."

It sank in that she was talking about Bruce selecting a best man.

"Well, Bruce hasn't asked me. Haven't really spent much time with him lately…"

"Well, you should… it's not like he'd say no."

I sat quietly, thinking to myself, that since he had recovered, I made a somewhat conscious effort to see him in social settings as opposed to simply spending alone time with him. Deep down, I had always wanted to ask how Bruce felt about Dick telling me the truth, but had never allowed myself to make the mistake of doing so.

At the peak of my self-thought, the waiter returned once more and set our food down. We ate in silence for a few moments before I found myself changing the pace of the conversation, asking about how things were between her and Dick. Their relationship had always been a mystery to me, but in the last year it had remained fairly steady and increasingly serious. I had wanted nothing more than for her to be happy, and seeing her with Dick Grayson certainly fit the bill.

One wedding at a time, I reminded myself.

When our waiter returned with the check, I snatched it before Barbara had a chance to do so herself. As we headed out, she made me promise to take it easy and to let Bruce run himself ragged while obsessing over Harvey. She offered to give me a ride back to the station, but I declined, citing that I needed a short walk before hunkering back down in my office. Kissing her good bye, I waited until she was in her Range Rover and pulling out into traffic before sighing.

Maybe a sit down with Bruce was exactly what I needed, a chance to clear the air, shed some weight from my shoulders. And perhaps Bruce needed to let off some steam, about his recovery, returning to the cowl or life in general.

After all, who better to lend his troubles to than another father?

^V^

After Bruce and Selina left, I trekked back upstairs in order to shower and change into one of the few spare sets of clothing I kept there. Finishing my training first thing in the morning had cleared the rest of the day, although it meant I technically had nothing to do.

No, that wasn't entirely true, I thought as I sat on the bed.

I had computer work I could have started or I could have read through all of the logs Bruce had written about the evidence.

I could have meditated or taken a nap or at the very least watched some television.

Instead, I decided to seek out the only other living person in the expansive house.

I found Alfred in the kitchen, looking as if he also was at a loss of what to do. Despite the mild weather, he was sporting a green cardigan, sleeves pulled down to his wrists. I watched as he wrung his hands for a moment in silence. Then, without warning, he left the kitchen, heading towards the service corridor.

I retreated as well, ending up in the study. Unlocking the entrance behind the clock, I navigated down the granite steps in darkness. I always felt bad interrupting the bats were sleeping during the day, often only turning on the bare essential auxiliary lights.

When I had the Cave to myself, I often only used the training bay, wanting to work without interruption or distraction. As I made it to the main tier, I paused before walking over to the computer bay. Hesitating again, I finally sat down.

His chair.

Having been already up and running the monitor came to life when I said, "Computer, search video."

The screen filled with a list of all the video files on the computer, literally thousands if clips ranging from activity logs to surveillance records. In order to narrow it down, I asked for, "Computer, search video training."

I skimmed through them until I found the ones I wanted, keying in a command so that they would play, one after another.

The first was of him, dressed in loose white linen pants with his black belt secured around his waist. I watched as he performed dynamic movements of Aikido, using momentum, joint blocks and inertia to take down his invisible opponent. I skipped to the a following video, highlighting the withdraw and attack methods of Bando Thaing. Next had been Choi Kwang Do, a style he favored given how it combined knowledge of anatomy, biomechanics, neurophysiology and kinesiology with each and every blow.

Movie clip after movie clip showed him documenting his skills and routines.

All taken nearly fifteen years ago.

When I had first joined his war, he had made me watch the clips for hours on end, as means of expanding my knowledge of martial arts beyond the practical use and to the theoretical aspects and origins. At the time, I had seen it as punishment or even imprisonment, torturing me until I was fit for duty under his standards.

While he had recovered from getting shot by Pasqualle, I had watched them religiously, wanting to see him alive, wanting to see him as he once was…

I had just reached the clip documenting the more harmonious Hapkido, I heard footsteps followed by, "Researching, miss?"

I shook my head, looking over my shoulder to watch him approach. I smiled to see that he had brought a tray of sandwiches and a glass of water along with a cup of tea. After setting them down on the workbench, I continued to watch in silence as he pulled over another chair and sat himself beside me.

"They home?" I asked as I reached over for an chicken salad sandwich.

"Not yet. Master Bruce had quite the afternoon scheduled."

"Doing what?" I said through a mouthful.

Alfred shook his head and I smiled at him. Alfred cared for me, but not my absent manners. He cleared his throat before responding, "Well, I do believe they were taking Miss Mattie to the zoo and then out to lunch. Afterwards, they were to visit Mr. Roblier for selecting a dress."

"Dress?" I asked after swallowing.

"Indeed. For the wedding."

I nodded and took another bite, watching as he selected a half of a sandwich for himself. Everyone seemed happy that they were getting married, once they were over being surprised. I supposed it made sense, that they wanted to be together, for each other and for Mattie. He certainly seemed happier with Selina than before, when he was alone.

Thinking about the night before, of him literally throwing himself to the wolves made me wonder if being married would be the only normal thing in their lives…

As the bats squeaked above us, we ate lunch in silence, watching the remainder of the video clips. Alfred had known him forever, since when he was a baby. He had showed me a photo album once of him as a child. Pictures of his parents, too, back when he was a cute little boy, with lots of smiles.

By the time we had viewed all of his work videos, we had finished the sandwiches as well. Alfred had asked if I desired anything more to eat and I shook my head, prompting the next set of videos. I had expected them to be more records of his abilities, perhaps of gymnastic work or escape artistry, instead we came a set of recorded log entries. Often when he returned home after particularly troubling nights, he would verbally record his logs in order to write them out later.

The first one to come up was about an encounter with Harvey Dent, looking sad and defeated as he spoke.

Without warning, I shut it off.

I didn't like seeing him that way.

Alfred cleared his throat, "Well, it has been quite the afternoon, miss. However, I have a few errands to run in town…"

"I'll come."

"That's quite all right, Miss Cassandra, it isn't necessary for you to…"

"I want to. Please?"

His eyebrows rose slightly as he stood, "Very well. I'll tend to cleaning up lunch while you freshen up a bit."

I followed him upstairs, hitting the lights to leave the bats to their darkness. While Alfred headed towards the kitchen, I ran upstairs to brush my hair before putting it into a chaotic bun. A minute of searching revealed my sneakers to be under the bed and I donned them before jogging back downstairs. Alfred stood at the end of the stairs and escorted us to the garage, but before we stepped into the garage, I asked, "I drive?"

The terrified look on his face made me laugh before admitting, "Just kidding."

We went east off of the private drive and headed towards the city. Just across the Bristol Bridge, he pulled off towards a small collection of markets and shops spelt "Shoppe". I followed him as he purchased fruits at one stand, vegetables at the next and then on towards a small bakery. The man on the other side of the counter gave me a free cupcake and called me a "cutie".

After offering to carry some bags countless times, Alfred finally relented and let me carry a small bag of baguettes and the fruit he had selected. I knew that a man named Arliss delivered the main groceries to the Manor every other week, but apparently there were some things he wanted to do himself. Every so often, I had asked why he was squeezing certain fruit or why he asked the clerks certain questions, and he seemed genuinely pleased to explain the art of shopping to me.

Much like me, he tended to do most of his work alone and enjoyed company when the moment was right.

After buying a few jars of apple butter from the store across from the bakery, Alfred led us back to the car. We set the purchases in the trunk and then got back in the vehicle, although I refused to sit in the back, causing Alfred to fight back a smirk. And when we arrived, I beat him to the trunk, grabbing the heaviest items as he scoffed at me.

Before we made our way to the service entrance, another car pulled up the drive, waiting for the door to open before pulling in to the empty bay beside us. Alfred smiled as the car halted and the doors opened, "Good afternoon, Master Bruce, Ms. Selina. How did we fair this afternoon?"

Bruce stepped out of the car first, nodding at me silently before he moved to the back door in order to get Mattie. Selina answered, "Very productive… and it was beautiful out, to boot. Had a nice picnic, didn't we, kiddo?"

Once she was out of her car seat, Mattie rubbed her sleepy eyes, looked at Alfred and I and then pressed her face into Bruce's neck. He rubbed her back and said, "Can't say hello, kitten?"

Mattie picked her head up again, turning it to me just as I smiled at her.

We followed them inside, veering off to the kitchen where they continued to the main corridor. Although I managed to bring groceries inside, Alfred managed to kick me out of the kitchen. I followed the sounds of voices to the den, smiling to see Bruce sitting with Mattie on the couch. Walking in, I chose to sit on the adjacent chair, pleased to see Mattie seemed to be more awake after her car ride nap.

Bruce handed her a plush black cat as I asked, "Have fun, Mattie?"

She smiled and extended her arms, in which she held a stuffed black cat. I reached out and stroked the top of its softly, "Pretty kitty."

He watched the exchange with a faint smirk on his face, then leaned over to look at Mattie's face, "Tell Cass, you saw lions and tigers and bears…" kissing her neck before adding, "Oh my!"

She erupted in laughter and squirmed to get away from him. Sitting upright, he picked her up off of his lap and held her above his face. She gripped the stuffed leopard, crying out when he bit the toy, trying to rip it away from him. A grin had spread over his face as he removed his teeth from the synthetic panther, one he maintained as he lowered her to kiss her cheek.

Maybe he wasn't who he once was.

And maybe that wasn't a bad thing.

^V^

Leaving Bruce and Mattie in the den, I went upstairs to drop the diaper bag off in the nursery. I was impressed that he had managed to maintain the carefree façade for the duration of the afternoon, letting it falter only once or twice when he thought I wasn't looking. Even as he had held my hand on the car ride down, kissed me at the park and smirked at me at Roblier's, I knew his mind had been elsewhere. The only time he had seemed entirely there had been when Mattie had grabbed his attention.

Making my way to the master bedroom, I kicked my shoes off and took a seat on the bed. I reclined slowly, resting my hands on my stomach as I let my head lull to the right. Bruce's nightstand was barren save for the lamp and phone and when I looked to the left, I smirked to see mine occupied by a matching lamp, the clock and a stack of dog-eared magazines and one of Mattie's teething toys. Alfred's suggestion to read while Bruce was gone would require actual books, given how quickly I sped through the periodicals.

"Mrrow."

I felt Isis jump onto the bed before she sauntered up to my face. Rubbing her chin on mine, her purrs were loud and soothing, growing stronger when I reached up and traced my nails over her face. I clucked softly to her and she proceeded to rub her face up and down my cheek.

"I missed you, too, baby."

Having left the door open, the first sound I heard in thirty minutes, save for Isis, was Bruce's near silent footsteps as he entered. I waved from the bed but made no effort to get up, even when he asked, "Nap time?"

"I wish."

He headed into the bathroom while saying, "Just put Mattie down."

"She fall asleep again?"

Bruce didn't reply until he emerged a moment later, having removed his shirt and sweater. Carrying a tube of antibiotic ointment, he said, "She was just getting fussy… Needs to get back on a routine."

He sat on the edge of the bed and took the top off, putting small dollops over the various lacerations and abrasions on his torso and arms. I began to rub his lower back with my bare foot, reaching up to rest my foot on his trapezium before eliciting no response.

"How's the arm?" I asked, watching Isis as she walked to the edge and jumped down.

"Tender," he replied quietly as he began to pick at a scab on his side.

"Let me see," I said while sitting upright, crawling over to sit to his right side. The bandage was still adhered tightly to his skin and I smirked before ripping it off in one fell move.

He winced before glaring at me, "Ow."

"Crybaby," I shook my head while observing the wound. The sutures he had redone were noticeable against Alfred's precise lines. Even still, the wound was unanimously red and angry, stark against the bruised tissue.

He caught me looking and said, "It'll probably scar."

"The one clean spot you had on this arm," I noted, gently tracing my hand down from his shoulder to his wrist.

Bruce lifted his arm suddenly and pointed to his elbow, "That's clean."

"Ah, but the night is young."

For a moment, something happened to his face, a combination of deep thought and equally deep suffering. He exhaled softly before returning his attention to putting ointment on the wounds, "Cassandra said she would stay upstairs, if you wanted someone to keep an ear out for Mattie."

I shook my head, "That's all right, I might actually take a nap myself."

The look flashed over his face again, tinted with guilt. He covered it by saying, "Figured you would have been spent after yelling at me…"

Reclining again, I lifted my foot and kicked him in the middle of the back, targeting a broad bruise. Instead of wincing again, he smirked. Task completed despite my attempts to interrupt him, he capped the tube and looked over at me, "I'll be back up by seven."

"Better be."

Before rising, he leaned over me, resting his weight on one hand, kissing me quickly. I encouraged him to stay a moment longer and the fact that he resisted had me biting the inside of his lower lip. When I let go of him, he remained hovering over me but opted to push himself away slightly, for safety's sake.

"Selina…"

"I know… All work and no play," I leaned forward and kissed him again, "Seven."

"Seven."

I waited until he had left before sitting up again, reaching for the phone when I was sure he wasn't going to peek back in. Dialing, I waited for three long rings to pass before hearing Barbara ask, "A day on the town and you didn't invite me?"

"What?" I replied.

"I went out to dinner with Dad, driving out I saw Bruce picking you two up from the park."

"Ah yes," I smiled before recounting the afternoon we had spent in Gotham. She also was sad that we had not taken any pictures of Mattie at the zoo, and volunteered to go with us the next time to see that some were. I then inquired about spending time with her father and how he was taking to Harvey's escape.

"As well as he can. Out of any of them, having Harvey out always seems to make it harder to deal with."

"So I've noticed," I sighed.

"Surprised you were able to drag him out of the Cave."

"We compromised. He could work all morning if he could spare me a few hours in the afternoon. And I think it helped having Tim running errands for him at the city impound."

"Yes, he was a busy little bird," she remarked, "Not a ton of trace evidence unfortunately, but he found weapons hidden under the carpet, tipped Special Crimes and celebrated with Starbucks… Like any good sidekick… Oh, hold on," she sighed before speaking again, "I found more connections to Joseph Hayden. Townhouse rental started that a month ago in the Bowery. Deposit and two months rent paid in cash. Had to break into a sixty-year-old woman's Quickbooks files but… 202 Alula Street… Wouldn't doubt it…"

"Barbara, I can go…"

"No, I'll just be a second," she said to me, and then, "No, not you… It's called multi-tasking." After another sigh, "No Bruce like a driven Bruce."

"Regrettably true," I paused before repeating, "If you need to work, I can go…"

"No, I haven't spoke with a single member of our species all day, and if I don't I might declare war on the other one. So, what else did you do, aside from the zoo and the park?"

"Actually we had to go to the designers… I think I found a dress."

"Well, that's a step in the right direction. Did Bruce wait in the car?"

"No, I actually had him go in with me…" and for some reason I added, "I wanted to make sure he liked it."

"Selina… you could wear a trash bag and he'd still go ga-ga."

"I know… I don't know…" I stared down at the ring on my left hand, "Can I confess something?"

Barbara hesitated before saying, "Only as long as this confession isn't going to include me having to do a spit-take… I just poured this cup of coffee…"

"No, it's nothing like that," I found myself reclining again, although positioning myself to lay on Bruce's side, the faint smell of his cologne permeating from the pillows and through the duvet. "It's just… I honestly never though I would be trying on wedding dresses… picking out a date… Not just with Bruce… I just never thought it would come to that point."

"Wow. Feeling romantic aren't we… what did he do to piss you off?"

I smirked, "Nothing. Yet."

"He sounded like he was in trouble…"

"Well if he doesn't show his face to feed his child, he will be… "I guess, even after everything that's happened… It still catches me off guard."

"I can imagine, I still have trouble picturing him changing a diaper."

I laughed briefly, "Diffuse a bomb, strangle the Joker, find a cure for Scarecrow toxin… really a diaper is nothing in the grand scheme of things."

"I have changed that child's diaper, trust me, it's in the same category," Barbara sighed before saying, "Well, he beckons once more… if I get a lull, I'll give you a call. You can tell me more about how you're not mad at Bruce."

We both knew there wouldn't be one and that I wouldn't hear from her until the morning, and still I said, "Sure thing." After hanging up, I got to my feet, calling for Isis, "Come on, baby, let's go peruse the library. It's going to be a long night."

^V^