Part Two

He'd have to be an idiot not to know. After all, Alfred had seen the change in Bruce, had been a witness to his growing obsession with bats; willingly accomplished his ever increasingly odd requests.

As Alfred made his rounds through the house, it was painfully obvious that Bruce was no longer living here. That wasn't to say he came here, no appearances must be maintained. But after working here so long, he knew what signs of habitation to look for.

Perhaps this was for the best. The cabinets full of alcohol hadn't been touched for weeks, not one drop was missing. Why should he ruin possibly the best thing to happen in the young Wayne's life for years?

He'd continue to do his work, as he had done for years, nothing had happened to change that. Quite quickly, Alfred decided not to whisper this to a soul, it would remain Bruce's secret.

In his underground sanctuary, Wayne finished the long and difficult process of setting up the power generator. It wasn't overly large but produced a large output for something so very small.

He got to work setting up the connections, a little difficult considering the darkness with which Bruce was forced to deal with. Inserting the final plug, the cave suddenly came to life. The lighting he had installed illuminated the central platform and a short path towards a ladder that led out to the surface.

A top-of-the-line computer, with a wireless internet connection sat on a steel desk at the center of the platform. Bruce had also put up railing for safety's sake. It may not have been one of the most elaborate lairs but it would do the job.

Meanwhile, Harvey Dent rubbed his hands nervously while in a meeting with staff. "What should we do?" He asked shakily.

"There's not much we can do, sir." One staffer replied, "Just keep making the rounds and building support, we're too close to a victory to lose it now."

"Are you serious?" Dent asked almost appalled at the suggestion, "Expose myself with Jack Napier about, you heard what he did to Cellar; he wants to do that to me."

The staffer took on an almost commanding stance, "Sir, get a hold of yourself! Listen to me, we can't show weakness, you have to show the people that you will not yield to this…terrorist. Yes, call him that in fact, inspire the people with courage. You just need one last little push to hold these numbers until people go to the polls."

Dent sat there for a moment, pondering the issue, and with a large smile nodded, "Great idea."

Elsewhere in the city, Gordon stared at the bar full of beaten and battered thugs, "Okay, what happened?"

Bullock with a large grimace shrugged, "What else? A large bat came in and cleaned their clocks." He pointed to the illegal contraband sitting on a table with money thrown all around it, "Looks like he broke up some kind of drug deal."

"Same as before?" Gordon inquired sighing deeply.

"Yep, no physical evidence for us to follow up on." Bullock shook his head exasperated, "Whoever this Batman loser is I don't know how we're going to catch him except for blind luck."

"Should we catch him?" Gordon asked gravely, "Would it be for the best if we did?"

Bullock frowned, "These vigilante types are no better than the Joker, let me tell you. It's just one little hop over in the other direction and they're the same person." He lit up a cigarette, "Better we catch him now before he flips out and goes on a killing spree."

Gordon watched as the paramedics entered to treat the wounded, "Speaking of Napier, any more word on him?"

"You can never tell with that guy. We're still looking into the Cellar murder." Bullock responded.

Making a step towards the exit Gordon stopped and gave one last piece of advice to the portly detective, "Talk to Dent about getting some added security; he'll need every precaution he can get."

"So, Harvey, what seems to be the problem these days?" His psychiatrist asked in the privacy of her office.

"Everything's the problem." He replied pitifully lying on the couch, "Everything is bothering me."

She frowned and leaned in sympathetically, "I heard about the problems you've been having, with Jack Napier."

"Napier." Harvey grimaced, "I want to hurt him so bad. I want to rip open his skull and stomp on his brains!" He grabbed a pillow, "Napier…I…"

"Am I talking to Harvey?" She inquired. "Or Face?"

Harvey grimaced, "Dent chickened out. I'm here."

The doctor clicked her tongue, "I'd like to talk to Harvey; can you bring him back, Face?"

"No. He'll come back after he's done hiding." Dent replied emotionlessly. "He can handle the pressure."

"And you can?"

A smirk ran across Harvey's face, "Of course I can, I'm Face."

"Master Wayne?" Alfred said entering the pantry to a visibly tired Bruce, "Excuse me, sir, but should I inform Mr. Wright at the Arts Ceremony to not expect you."

Bruce nodded yawning, "Y-yes, I have other matters to attend to."

"Very well, sir. I'll inform Ms. Kyle as well." Alfred replied.

"Excuse me?" Bruce asked suddenly energized by the drop of her name, "Selina Kyle?"

Alfred nodded slowly, "Yes, she had called earlier to see if you would attend, I said I'd get back to her."

Bruce's eyes lit up, "You know what, Alfred, on second thought, I think I'll attend, actually."