Disclaimer: I do not own Batman, Robin or the Joker. DC does

Bruce Wayne Checks In – Chapter Three

The Batmobile was tearing down the street. Alfred was gripping the wheel so hard his hands had turned white. He looked at his watch. Two minutes left! He could see the hotel in front of him. Police, hundreds of them, surrounded it. Several police helicopters were hovering overhead. Well he couldn't park the car outside and stroll in. What would he say? "Delivery for Mr Wayne?" "I just found this car outside and thought it was yours?" Well if Master Bruce wanted this car, he would just have to deliver it to him in person! He gunned the engine. The police manning the barrier in front of him jumped aside as he went racing towards the hotel. With a smashing sound it broke the barrier. There was a pinging sound as several of the Jokers gang started firing at his car, police snipers quickly returned fire. This was turning into a war zone! He pressed the accelerator down and headed straight up the hotel stairs to the entrance lobby. There was a huge smashing of glass doors as the car leapt in. Several of the Jokers men scattered from the lobby as the car roared in. He stamped his foot hard on the brake and spun the wheel to the left and the car sideswiped three of the Jokers henchmen throwing them against the wall and knocking them out.

Alfred looked nervously out the car window. Well he was in. Too be honest with all the noise he had made he was expecting to see Bruce outside. He looked at his watch. One minute left. The foyer was completely wrecked, but there was no sign of life. Alfred was shocked at the mess but to be honest a small part of him loved the destruction he had caused. His day normally just consisted of making meals, cleaning the house and dealing with Master Bruce's cuts and bruises. Not to mention palming off all the women who called for Master Bruce. He opened the door to the car, made sure the cowl was on top of his head, wrapped the cloak around him, stood up and fell over. He then realised that the tins were still tied to his feet. He knelt down and started to untie the tins; it was then he heard the voice.

"Well you certainly make an entrance Batman!"

He looked up into the face of the Joker. He was grinning, one hand holding a gun, another holding a detonator. Alfred tried to cover his face but it was too late.

"I thought I was the Joker here?" said the Joker, peering at him. "What's happened to you Batty? Been giving the gym a miss recently? Where's all those lovely muscles and is that a moustache, you've grown?"

Bruce Wayne was dying. He had seen it enough times to recognise the signs. Still he was not dead yet. When the Joker had thrown Robin at him he had just enough time to swipe a small one-minute charge from the boy's utility belt and had thrown it into the lock before the Joker shut the door.

"Boom. Crack."

There was a wisp of smoke and the door creaked open. Bruce dragged Robin and Elaine Roville out into the corridor. He was shaking uncontrollably. He checked Robin's pulse; he was still alive and breathing. He left him in the recovery position; he would be up and about with nothing worse than a headache soon. What about the Roville women? Damn! No pulse or breathing. He gave her heart massage and mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Come on breathe damn you! Yes! A pulse again!

"Cough, cough!" Elaine Roville sat up shaking. "Brucey! Don't stop now, I was just starting to enjoy it!"

"Now, now Elaine!" Said Bruce. "Don't get the wrong idea! You wait here, I'll see if I can get help!"

Elaine Roville started shaking. "I'm still freezing cold!"

"You will be my dear. Don't worry I won't be long. Try not to warm up too quickly."

"Where are you going?"

A hint of Batman's steely voice broke in. "Stay there!" He was still shivering. He walked up the corridor, trying to stretch and relax his arm and leg muscles. He felt slow, weak and cold. He had heard the unmistakeable sound of the Batmobile making an entrance. It sounded like Alfred had parked it in the lobby! Not quite what he had in mind? Now he had a problem, how to change places with his butler, before anyone noticed…

Alfred was terrified. The Joker was waving his gun at his chest.

"What are you Batman's understudy?"

What would Bruce say in this situation? "I'm the only Batman you need worry about… punk." Possibly too much Clint Eastwood and not enough Batman. He was still carrying Bruce's utility belt! Maybe there was something there he could use.

The Joker pointed the gun at his face. "Let me see those hands of yours Batman. Slowly! I've still got my finger on the detonator! One wrong move and we will all be blown straight to hell!"

Alfred slowly raised his arms, showing the utility belt and the rest of Batman's uniform.

"Drop it to the floor."

Alfred dropped it to the floor.

"Oooh! His utility belt! It's full of lots of lovely stocking fillers I'm sure! Kick it over here Batty!"

Alfred kicked the utility belt. He forgot about the tins still tied to his feet, the tin still attached to his shoe, sailed through the air and connected with the Joker's head. The Joker staggered back, dropping both the gun and the detonator in surprise! "Ouch! What are you doing?"

Alfred kicked out with his other foot, this tin connected with the Joker's chin. The Joker slumped down the wall, blood oozing from his mouth.

Alfred looked slightly guilty. "Sorry about that." He picked up the utility belt, the detonator and Batman's uniform and scurried into the corridor.

Bruce didn't know how many of the Joker's men were still about. Still, only one-way to find out. He pressed the hidden button on his lapel.

"Alfred, come in? Respond."

There was a crackling sound and a nervous voice. "I've just driven in the foyer sir. Where are you?"

"The basement. Can you make your way to the lift at the end of the corridor? Follow signs for the Green Reception room."

"I will do my best, sir."

"And Alfred?"

"Yes sir?"

"Be careful. Over and out."

He needed some weapons. He walked past a box full of glass ashtrays. He weighed one in his hand. Not bad. They wouldn't be too accurate but fine for close range work. Bruce approached the lift doors with caution. He pressed the button and waited. Bing. The lift opened, fortunately, no one was about. He pressed the button for the ground floor and waited. He carried on flexing his muscles. The uncontrollable shakes were starting to die down but he still felt cold and weak.

Tavi, the leader of the Joker's gang was annoyed. What was that white faced fool doing? He never should have got involved with him. He attracted costume freaks like flies round…

"Sir!" One of his gang came running up to him.

"What is it?"

"Batman's in the building and he's taken down the Joker already!"

"Good. Maintain the perimeter. Make sure the police don't take advantage."

"Some already tried to. The boys used their rocket launcher on them."

"Tell the boys to come down from the roof. Leave five watching the hostages. Tell them to get the grenades and body armour. We're hunting Bats."

Alfred tottered down the corridor stopped at the end and looked nervously round the corner. There were two people up ahead. They seemed to be carrying guns! He hugged the wall. Bruce or Tim would probably have knocked them out by now. What skills did he have? He had been serving the Wayne family for most of his life what did he know about fighting? Mmmm. There was a trolley next to him. The kind they use to take all the replacement towels and things to the rooms. He quickly took the cape and cowl off and placed it on the bottom shelf of the trolley, along with Batman's utility belt. He took a small object out of the utility belt. He had been packing the belt for many years and he knew what all the pockets contained. He covered it with some white towels. He couldn't go back, oh well here goes nothing!

"Good evening gentlemen, just carrying on my rounds!"

"What are you doing here old man?" Said one of them.

"The laundry does not stop just because the hotel has been overrun with ruffians. We did not get our four stars by sinking to the lowest common denominator."

"Stop there!" He pointed the gun at Alfred. "What the hell are you talking about? What are you carrying?"

Alfred's voice got slightly higher pitched. "Nothing I assure you! Just let me past please? Please point that thing somewhere else!"

"I'll say whether it is nothing or not, push it over here."

"No please! All I want to do is get past!"

He cocked the gun and pointed it at Alfred's head. "Now, before I lose my patience!"

Alfred pushed it gently towards the two. Still pointing his gun at Alfred he used his other hand to lift up the towel at the top of the trolley. This set off the pressure activated flash grenade. Boom!

"Aaaaah!" The two men dropped their guns and held their hands to their face. Alfred scooped up the guns, put them on the trolley and raced down the corridor towards the lift. The two thugs got to their feet and started swearing.

"The old…"

"Kill him, I'm going to kill him!"

They ran down the corridor towards Alfred. The corridor came to an end at the lift doors. He cowered behind the trolley when the lift door opened. Two expertly thrown ashtrays came flying out and knocked the two thugs out.

Alfred turned and smiled at Bruce. "Good evening sir, I've bought you evening wear."