Title: Life Is Good: XIX Part 1

Author: D C Luder

Summary: The second addition in the Series of Three storyline. Se 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.

V Here Comes The Bride V

As the alarm came to life at 6:35, I reached over to nudge Bruce and mumbled, "Turn it off." When my fingertips met a pillow, I sat up and stared at the spot beside me, the alarm still buzzing in my ears. "Bruce?"

I reached across the bed to the nightstand, slapped the off button and allowed my eyes to adjust to the early dawn darkness of the bedroom. I made out the faint outlines of the dresser, the sofa by the windows and the bathroom door. But no Bruce.

After I turned a bedside lamp on, I saw a cream colored envelope with Bruce's handwriting depicting: "Mrs. Wayne". I grinned as I recalled my own note I had left for Bruce, although I had written "Mr. Kyle" on his.

Along with all the assurances we had taken to allow the wedding to roll on without tragedy, Alfred had physically separated us at just before midnight, taking Bruce down a floor and three rooms over for him to sleep in. He had grumbled and pouted about it but finally obliged just so he could get to bed. Neither one of us had found much rest in the week before the fifteenth, not out of anxiety, but the fact that there was no time.

I opened the envelope and read to myself: "Your green eyes... all I see is your green eyes. They fill me with who you are, Not this façade you put on for others. I'm not in that show. I'm looking into who you are, You are beautiful."

A grin spread across my lips and I stood slowly while I finished reading, thinking about him sitting at his oak desk, writing with the precision of a neurosurgeon, "I listen to your voice with tranquility of soul, And look into what lies ahead with uncertainty. You look back and flash a grin, Everything is all right. You're by my side, and I am happy. Am I the one for you? Maybe yes, maybe no. But you are who I love, And love you I will."

I read the poem again, sniffed the paper gently and set it on the dresser. As I went about showering, I held my emotions in rather well. I was to be married by sunset to a man who was my everything. With meditation, herbal teas and a punching bag, I had managed to keep my cool for the entire week, not falling victim to the pre-marital turmoil that raged within me. Everyone had been very supportive, saying that nothing was going to go wrong.

For the most part, I believed them.

"Damn," I growled. I had been shaving my left leg when my foot had slipped. Red appeared and dribbled down my leg before I could press a washcloth over the cut. Once the flow ended, I resumed shaving, with extra caution, and put off any thoughts for my own sake.

It wasn't until I had stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel that I realized what had just happened was an omen. I couldn't even shave without blood being spilled, what would happen during our wedding? After a moment's thought, I dismissed it to my own clumsiness and fatigue, burying the nagging paranoia deeper in the back of my mind.

Then my pinkie nail caught on the towel and ripped.

After donning slippers, I raced out of the bathroom and headed for the safety of the carpet as images of me falling on my ass on damp tiled floors danced in my head. I had been moving so quickly that I had failed to see Isis as she trotted through my path.

Her shrill cry was horrific as I stepped on her foot. I stumbled over her and caught myself on the dresser corner, my eyes level with Bruce's card. Before reaching over to cuddle with my frazzled cat, I suddenly wondered how Bruce's morning was proceeding.

Knowing him, he was still snoring away and wouldn't even roll out of bed until an hour before the ceremony.

Although hesitant, Isis slowly walked over to me, over exaggerating her injury and mewing in pain. I picked her up, rolled her onto her back and cradled her in my arms, "There, there, darling, I'm sorry, but you need to watch where you're going." She cried once more and then began to purr quietly.

The phone rang and I set the cat on the floor before walking over to answer, "Hello?"

"Selina, it's Barbara."

As I watched Isis trot out the door, I yawned, "Aren't you here a little early?"

She laughed quietly, "Leslie's been here since four-thirty checking over the flowers. And Alfred's been glued to the Weather Channel since Dick and I got here ten minutes ago."

A sudden weight landed deep in my chest, "Why is he watching the weather?"

She sighed before answering, "They are now calling for a forty percent chance of rain."

I growled, "It was fifteen last night!"

"Don't claw the messenger. Anyways, there's not a cloud in the sky as of now and if the wind goes more West than Northwest, it will blow right over us. Oh, excuse me," she covered the phone and said, "Hi Clark," then back to me, "So, you need any help yet?"

I glanced at the clock, which read 7:01. What was it with everyone being so eager to get things rolling? "Um, I just showered, so I can't do my hair, it's too early to get dressed and I still have to check on Mattie."

Then Dick's voice sounded in the background, "Mattie that was my muffin!"

After a sigh of relief, "I guess I don't have to check on her."

V Here Comes the Groom V

Despite a sleepless week, I was up by five and doing one handed pushups on the balcony facing the back field. The American Weather Service had updated their weather report and it didn't look too promising.

After a set of crunches and sit-ups, I called it quits and headed for the shower. On the bathroom sink, I noticed a white envelope with "Mr. Kyle" written on it. A smirk broke out on my face as I opened, catching a whiff of flowery perfume and found a CD with a purple Post It instead of a love letter.

I read the single word on it aloud: "Play"

Then I said "Ah," as the tiny scrap sliced a paper cut on the edge of my finger.

After involuntarily putting my injured finger in my mouth, I walked over to the bed table that held a lamp, a half empty glass of water and a small stereo. After inserting the disc, I obeyed Selina's order and pressed "play".

A man's voice declared, "Love is a many splendored thing, love lifts us up where we belong! All you need is love!"

And then a complaining woman spoke, "Please, don't start that again."

When the man continued, he was singing boldly, sans music, "All you need is love..."

"A girl has got to eat!" she interrupted.

"All you need is love..." he pushed on.

"She'll end up on the street!"

He sang louder, "All you need is looo-oove!"

As I lowered the volume, I shook my head and returned to the bathroom, thinking how odd Selina could be. When I had washed, rinsed and toweled off, I heard a knock at the door. As I retrieved a blade and a can of shaving cream I said, "Come in, Dick."

I heard him mutter, "How does he do that?" before walking over and saying, "Well, you're looking chipper. What's with the chick music?"

I shrugged and lathered my jaw. Despite the hour, I was hardly surprised to see him. He had been commuting the sixty-odd miles from Bludhaven after he finished shifts at the station and did his best to help out over the last week. He and Barbara had been assigned the joint tasks of confirming guests, reporting to the caterer and organizing the rehearsal dinner. Anything to keep them busy.

"Damn," I muttered as I felt the blade catch on the skin of my neck.

Dick looked over and smiled, "Now why'd you go and do that?"

I grumbled something about being preoccupied as I pressed a washcloth to the small cut. Once the flow ebbed away, I finished shaving carefully and asked, "Where's Barbara?"

"Downstairs. Lois and Clark showed up so her and Lois are making sure the bathrooms are properly supplied with mints and towels and Clark is watching Mattie. Alfred and Leslie are doing one more check to make sure the flowers are right and have been patiently waiting for the caterers to arrive with the chairs. Tim will be over around eight and Cassandra is sleeping in the den," he spoke quickly, his eyes shifting position every five words and his fingers twitched in tempo with his voice.

He was nervous.

After I washed my face and dried it off, I moved to walk out of the room. Unfortunately, my big toe, unprotected since my loafers were in the master bedroom, decided to catch on the bath mat. I felt a sliver of the nail rip off as I continued and growled quietly as I finally made my way over to him, "It's okay, Dick. Calm down."

He stammered, "I am calm. You should calm down, that's who needs to calm down, I'm not the one getting married today, you are, man, so just calm down..." as he followed me out of the bathroom.

I donned a cotton robe and tossed the discarded towel over the back of a chair. He stood by my dresser, fidgeting. As much as I enjoyed having Dick in my life, I couldn't stand it when he was restless. In his youth, stakeouts had been torture. A twelve-year-old boy trapped in a grown man's body. After sitting on the edge of my bed, I asked, "Something wrong?"

"Uh, no."

And I was uptight about my emotions.

Before I could question him further, Alfred tapped on the door and proceeded to enter with a tray of coffee. As he set the tray on the end table beside the radio that still emitted the bizarre love song, he spoke, "Good morning, Master Bruce. How are we faring this morning?"

"He cut himself," Dick blurted out.

Alfred's eyes narrowed suddenly as he scoured my form. He must have spotted the nick on my neck because he commented, "A grooming mishap with a safety razor. Who would have thought it possible."

A small smile crept onto my lips. When I had begun shaving as an adolescent, he had taught me with a straight razor. I never took to it, unfortunately, and fell in with the everyday "modern fools" as he called them, and used the disposable blades of a safety razor. He never truly got over it.

He moved closer to me, glanced once more at the wound and then handed over a cup of coffee. I nodded my thanks and sipped carefully.

I hadn't noticed that after Alfred had left the door open, Isis had made her way into the room. I called over to her and she slowly walked over, her tail twitching with each step. Her form seemed relaxed but her eyes glowed with emotion. Probably had been locked out of Selina's room. Kitties and $6500 wedding dresses do not mix well.

Alfred said he was preparing breakfast and that I was allowed to come downstairs anywhere between seven thirty and eight and that Selina would be eating from eight to eight thirty. Traditions and their humble curses had Alfred watching out for every threat.

I was about to say I wasn't going to eat and that Selina could go down whenever she wanted when I felt claws dig into my back. I lurched forward as Isis climbed my back and hopped onto my left shoulder, a movement that unfortunately off set my arm, which was attached to the hand that held a scalding cup of coffee.

As the hot liquid seared the flesh of my legs, I growled and felt the sudden urge to toss the damned cat out the window. Instead of slaying my bride's most treasured possession, I simply growled at Dick to get me a towel.

A great day, I kept thinking, It was going to be a great day.

V And now the Maid of Honor V

"Alfred, sit."

"I beg your pardon, madam."

I glared at him as he rearranged the guest book table in the main entry hall. He had already done so five times and it was beyond perfected. "I am going to eat, you are going to eat, we are going to eat, now."

After he carefully tilted the base of the flower vase, he stepped back, glanced over it once more then turned, "Leslie, there is no time for quarreling. There is much to do with very little time to do it in."

I stepped over, took one of his hands and squeezed, "Like what?"

"The guest restrooms need to be prepared."

"Barbara and Lois are doing that."

"Master Bruce needs his morning coffee."

"He's a grown man," I replied.

He wavered for a moment, "The caterers are late, I have to call once more--- ."

"You just called five minutes ago," I interrupted, "They are on the way."

I watched as he tried his best to come up with another excuse but when he didn't, I hooked my arm with his and lead him to the kitchen. In the breakfast nook, he had set up a buffet for everyone to pick at during the morning. I was surprised to see Clark there, sitting and watching as Mattie sat in her high chair, talking to him as she poked a piece of scrambled egg.

He looked up and smiled, "She's quite the talker."

"She loves to talk, don't you sweetie?" She looked up at my voice and smiled. "Did Bruce ever tell you what her first word was?"

He shook his head, a flash of sadness came over his features, "No, Bruce and I don't talk, much."

"Ah, don't let it get you down," I commented and selected an orange from the fruit basket, "He's given me the cold shoulder ever since he 'grew up'. I always treat him like he's regular old Bruce, eventually he softens up, remembers that I am not one to be messed with," I paused as a small smile crept onto his face, "Anyway, you'd never guess it, we were at the dinner table on Thanksgiving and she was precious, as the old codger over there was dishing out pie, she said 'Tankie Alfred.'."

A full smile grew from its smaller predecessor.

When I looked over to Alfred, to see his proud smile trying to break free, I was partly surprised to see him placing coffee on a tray. I walked over, "Alfred, no. Eat."

He shook his head, "Tradition cannot be foiled with, Dr. Thompkins. I am already fifteen minutes late."

I touched his shoulder as he looked at me sternly. Trying to act mean. Silly old man, "Alfred, he's probably still sleeping. Or showering. Besides, Dick just went up to talk to him, you might want to give them some time alone."

He shook his head slowly, and followed me over to the table. He sat beside me, straight and proper, watching Mattie's every move. I shook my head and Clark spoke to break the uneasy silence, "So, is there anything I can do, to help. I mean Lois can do the crafty things, but if there's anything for me, I'd be happy to do it."

I smiled warmly, "Actually everything is done until the caterers arrive. Then we have to set up the chairs, the flower arrangements and the alter outside."

"But if it rains---." Alfred spoke.

"It's not going to rain," I interrupted.

He looked like he was going to speak up when Mattie dropped her spoon and it clanged one the floor. I went to get a napkin to wipe it as Clark fetched the utensil. With our combined efforts, Mattie had her spoon back, which she probably would only drop again. She had yet to see either of her parents and as much as she loved everyone else, there was only so much she could handle with them being gone.

Bruce had considerable concern for when they left for the Caribbean the next morning. They would be gone for seven days, and he was certain that it would crush Mattie's heart. Selina said she would be fine. After two months of deliberation, it was decided that they would go, but would return if anything happened. In somewhat preparation, their daughter had been spending more time with her other family members. Alfred would remain at the Manor for the duration of their leave, unless I could snag him for a few days, but Barbara had volunteered to take Mattie for most of the week, with Alfred and I taking her for the remainder.

Thinking of my quirky beau, I looked over to see his chair empty. I then saw his back as he carried the tray out the door and headed for the service elevator.

Well, he did sit.

For three minutes.

I sighed and sat beside Clark once more as he spoke, "He never rests, does he?"

"Where do you think Bruce gets it?"

He smirked, and looked at Mattie once more. I suddenly wondered if he and Lois were ever going to have a family. They way he looked over Bruce's child said that he would make an incredible father. Before I could ask how Metropolis had been, he spoke, "It's so hard to believe he's getting married. That he has a family. As long as I've known him... I never saw this coming."

I nodded, "He has a whole new look on life. Even after he and Selina finally got together, he was still the same person. A little less stress in his life, but other than that, nothing was different. And then when he was shot..." I looked down at my hands, remembering every stitch I had ever done on his body. And how that it had been near impossible to keep my hands from shaking on that particular night.

"He's better for it, I think. As hard as it was for him to come back, it's made him stronger. He thinks he's lost his edge, but he hasn't. And on top of everything, he has this little lady in his life," I smiled and reached over to touch Mattie's hand.

Clark nodded but said nothing.

Before the silence between us lasted too long, Lois and Barbara arrived, chatting and all smiles. Every bathroom on the first floor was done up and ready, and the flowers had been set in the reception hall and in the corridors. Clark rose and greeted his wife, who pecked his cheek before walking over to Mattie. The child bounced in her seat and lifted her hands at the sight of Lois. They had spent a good part of the morning together and Lois had absolutely fallen head over heels for the Wayne baby.

We all had.

V Less we forget the Best Man V

I had set my alarm for six-thirty. After three presses of the snooze button, I rose at seven-fifteen and found the shower through half-closed eyes. Halfway through, the water went cold and I quickly shut it off, cursing the aging hot water heater. After wrapping an old robe around me, I found my glasses and donned them just as the phone rang.

It could have been a hundred people, but I had a hunch, "Good morning, dear."

"Daddy, hi. Just calling to make sure you were up. Alfred made breakfast if you want to eat here."

"Just some coffee, that would be just fine. I have to get dressed and then I'll be leaving. How's everything holding up?" I asked as I sought out a pair of jeans from a laundry basket.

She paused before replying, "Ok. I've been getting some things done down here for the reception, that we didn't get to after the rehearsal dinner. The caterers just pulled in the driveway and Alfred's out taking charge."

I shook my head, picturing the spry old man dishing out orders with military accuracy. "All right, I'll see you in a bit."

"Bye Dad, muwah!" and then nothing.

After I had dressed, found my keys and made it through the door, my watch showed it to be fifteen of eight. Seeing how it was Saturday morning, traffic was practically nothing and I cruised over the bridge into Bristol. The smile on my face was genuine, the sheer thought of Bruce and Selina finally making it work being the cause. In mere hours they would share their vows, unite their love and then celebrate until kingdom come.

Unless the unexpected happened.

Barbara had relented on how Selina was worried that the endless bad luck of the last year would surely climax on their wedding day. I recalled my own experiences of matrimony and shook my head. There had been drama, yes, bad things, of course, but overall, they were wonderful days with women I loved.

As my mind drifted back to how gorgeous Barbara was in her dress and how Sarah smashed cake into my moustache, I saw flashing lights behind me. Red flashing lights. I pulled over, giving the lane to the officer so that he could pass. To my utter horror, the car followed me and pulled over behind me.

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered as I stopped and shut off the ignition.

I continued to growl and grumble to myself as I watched the officer stroll up to me via the side mirrors. He was an older deputy, tall and lanky with a scowl that said I had ruined his morning. When he paused at my door, a tobacco-rich voice asked for my license and registration. After fumbling for the documents, I handed them over, "You're making a big mistake."

"I think not, Mr. Gordon."

Clearing my throat, I offered an equally aggressive growl, "You can call me Commissioner Gordon if you're going to be formal," I read his name plate, "Deputy Gerard."

I saw the corner of his lip twitch before he asked, "Do you know how fast you were going?"

Fifteen minutes of badgering, answering ridiculous questions and watching a shaky hand scribble on a note pad, I was released with a warning to drive safer. I memorized his name and face and reminded myself to place a call to his superior. A 70 in a 65 was nothing but pulling over Gotham City's commissioner was another.

The remaining drive was uninterrupted and I pulled in next to Barbara's car at exactly eight-thirty. I felt uncomfortable walking through the front door unannounced and felt even worse for ringing and waiting to be let in when there was so much to be done. I walked around, through the garage entrance and entered through the service door into the kitchen.

As expected, there were countless boxes of dishes, supplies and baskets of fresh bread and fruit. Several men and women in white garb were organizing the foods and unpacking dishware. The caterers. I smiled to myself thinking they were Alfred's nemesis. Then, a tall man with high cheekbones approached me, "Monsieur, non, no food, wait pour the recep-tion," his French accent rendering the words nearly useless.

I held my hands up and offered a kind smile, "Right, I was just leaving."

After squeezing my way between the food soldiers, I made my way into the hall. Slowly, I scanned the flowers that stood every ten feet in the hall and listened for voices. I followed the sound of female chattering to a small room whose door was half opened. I knocked then walked through to see a table of food and beverages and three women talking and picking at fruit. Four including Mattie, as she played with a linen napkin on her mother's lap.

"Ladies," I announced myself after none had responded to my knocking or entrance.

Barbara was the first to look up, followed by Lois then Selina. "Dad, help yourself before we devour it all."

I walked over kissed her cheek and poured myself a cup of coffee. I sat in between Lois and Barbara and then asked, "So, how is Bruce holding up?"

Selina swallowed a piece of pineapple before replying, "Good I guess, I haven't been allowed on the same floor as him. But Dick and Alfred went up and so far so good."

We began talking about the night before, how well the rehearsal dinner had been and how we all couldn't wait for the day to get going. As we talked and ate, I heard two voices in the hall as they approached. First a soft female voice, "Food's in here. Lots."

"Any bacon? Could make myself a killer McTimmy breakfast sandwich."

The two forms appeared and revealed themselves as Cassandra and Tim. She was dressed, surprisingly, in tan shorts and a navy blue tee shirt. As long as I could remember, I had seen her in nothing lighter than midnight blue. She glanced over at the table, licked her lips then left Tim's side.

Barbara had told me that he had been backpacking with a few friends up in Fulton for the last week. He also wore tan shorts and a black short- sleeved shirt that declared in bold white letters: "Disco Still Sucks."

Interesting.

As he came closer and greeted everyone, I noticed scrapes and cuts all over his bare arms and legs. There was a small, almost unnoticeable scrape down the side of his neck that followed under the collar of his shirt. Barbara must have noticed as well, for she asked, "So, did you fall down a ravine or something?"

"Nah," he walked over to get a plate and a fork, "We ended up betting who could reach the top first. And considering my fellow hikers have been playing 'Final Fantasy' as part of their daily exercise, it wasn't too hard to whomp them. These are just my victory marks," he motioned to the scabs on his arms.

"How much was on the line?" Lois spoke up.

"Six guys, five hundred a piece."

Selina smiled, "And what are we doing with this hard earned money?"

He shrugged as he went about piling eggs, bacons and sausage links on a bagel, "It's already gone." When everyone looked at him he winked in the bride's direction, "Thought I'd get the Lord and Lady something special."

I grinned and sipped coffee. I knew Tim Drake was a hardworking young man, and despite his family's wealth, he was very down to earth. I had never asked Bruce about how he had became Robin, but Barbara had volunteered after Dick spilled the proverbial beans two years ago. After discovering Batman's true identity, Tim had practically forced himself upon Bruce, declaring that Batman needed a Robin.

In my years knowing his mentor, I couldn't agree more. Whenever the role of Robin had been emptied, whether by force or death, it affected Batman in such a way. It took away his humanity, almost.

As I looked around at the family he had gained since his first appearance on the Gotham nightline, I thought to myself that he would never lose his humanity ever again.

V