Chapter Two: Facing The Day

The day was going horribly. How was Elizabeth supposed to get anything done when she spent half the time jumping at every shadow and was constantly glancing over her shoulder? That was no way to live. Of course, recklessness was no way to die, either.

These recent events were tearing her mind up, though. She couldn't decide whether she was grateful to have been warned or would have been happier not knowing. Each decision had its pros and cons. Eventually she would content herself with the flow of fate, but currently she had to block all concerns from her mind—if that were possible.

Across from her sat couple that were possibly as bad for each other as they were good for each other. One was masochist and the other was sadistic. Perfect. Their words flowed into her mind at tangents, tangling themselves around words spoken to her from another night, and words she hoped she would never have to hear.

"Doctor?"

Dr. Lee inwardly shook herself into present matters and smiled. "Yes, Mr. Conning?"

"You okay? Do we need to reschedule?"

"No, no," Dr. Lee argued, shaking her head. "I was merely… assessing the situation."

"And?" Came from Mrs. Conning.

"Ah," Dr. Lee was no marriage counselor, but recent underdevelopments in Gotham's population forced Dr. Lee to make some developments of her own. Oh well, at least she couldn't say she was suffering financially. "Mr. and Mrs. Conning, can you imagine yourselves living without each other?"

"Wha--?"

"What the hell kind of question is that?" demanded Mr. Conning.

"An informative one, I assure you; but nothing that should be answered in this session. I want you to think about it,really think about it. I will see you both next week."

"But Doctor, we still have fifteen minutes." Cried Mrs. Conning.

"And I want you spending that fifteen extra minutes doing some compromising, something you haven't really been doing for each other. Do that for me before your lives sweep both of you off your feet again." As she spoke she stood and opened the office door for them to leave by.

She was completely ashamed of herself for doing that, but couldn't help but feel that that had been her best option. They deserved to have a patient doctor, instead of a brick wall to converse with, though many doctors somehow could not make the separation. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms as she walked to the office's only window, staring down at dingy streets against the sharp sunlight of noon with hazel eyes. Talk about contrasts. Often staring into the face of hope in a downward spiral, she wondered at all the chances she never took, or the flights she had never flown. Who stays in Gotham City? It is only those who are tired of running, or find themselves at home. Criminals, however, are not the only ones who find themselves at home in Gotham. Elizabeth found, with a slight shudder of apprehension, that she stayed because she wanted to. It was too difficult adjusting to an entirely strange city when she had been born and raised in another one. That was why she wasn't running from her problems. That and… something told her to stay. Some inexplicable urge to help Batman nail Joker wrenched at her gut, and cemented her soul even more to her home city. Not to mention that tiny mantra that she repeated to all her patients was now finally coming around to her: "you can't run from your problems. Only by facing them will you defeat them." Standard issue, psychology 101; so under- and overused. But clichés will forever be in use as long as they're true and in need of use. So there she stood, twirling her proverbial ball and chain, and victimizing herself to her own schooling.

Elizabeth watched a squadron of police cars parade through a street a few blocks down. Someday, she considered, she wouldn't have to give running away a second thought, so long as there were sunny days and dark knights.

Alfred scurried around Bruce like a frantic mother, pulling out a crease here, adjusting a tie there, and informing him about his latest import of cool gadgetry.

"The watch you're wearing, Master Bruce, picks up on the homing device by heart rate. Quite like those exercise bicycles that measure how fast your blood is flowing."

"Exercise bikes?"

"Do stand still sir, I don't know how you can live with yourself, going swimming in perfectly good suits one night and sliding down hotel banisters the next. Little hooligan," he chuckled good naturedly, "Anyways, this attribute allows you to observe if the one being stalked is in danger or not."

"I'm not stalking. How does this tie look?"

"Mismatched as always. If the device shows a flatline, then--,"

"The person's dead. Got it."

"Or she simply took off her coat. Really Master Bruce, must you where those shoes?"

"I should have been here when Lucius dropped that thing off; he explains those things a lot better."

"I understand. I was the one that clued him in to use small words when conversing with you."

Bruce laughed and exited his bedroom, making his way briskly down the grand staircase and into the central hall with Alfred in tow like a faithful shadow.

"Who am I meeting tonight again?"

"You are joking, right?" Alfred looked up at his godson with a worried frown.

"Come on Alfred, you know this whole business bachelor is just a disguise from my real job, right?"

"But Master Bruce, I thought you were considering this whole personality trait. For Rachel, I mean."

Bruce stopped at the door, checking his watch before remembering that time wasn't one of its splendid attributes. "I have been considering, Alfred. But I find it hard to consider myself top priority to everyone else who needs my darker side."

"Even if it means losing the one you love?"

Bruce gave Alfred a long, solemn look. "I'm willing to make a sacrifice, so no one else has to."

Alfred smiled, his eyes shining proudly, but with a hint of sadness as well. "Give them hell, Bruce." One boyish smirk later, Gotham's Playboy was out the door.

"Oh and by the way," Alfred yelled out the open door to the retreating form. "It's Mr. and Mrs. O' Henri. Try to be polite!" He was answered by a wave of hand without so much as a backward glance. He shook his head and muttered, "He'll grow into himself… I'm sure of it…"

FIVE HOURS LATER

Something was wrong, Elizabeth's bones sang. She pulled her jacket tighter around herself as she quickened her pace to her vehicle. She unlocked the door and slid in without harm or harassment, but could not shake the itchy feeling between her shoulder blades that she got when she was being watched. Or when she thought she was being watched. She turned the ignition and quickly wedged herself into the flow of traffic, letting habit take over her direction as she studied the passing suspects of her increased paranoia.

It didn't take her long to get to the stinted elementary school, where she got out of her white two door and waited anxiously for a small pair of feet to scuffle over and greet her.

"Hey, Katie. How was school?"

"It would have been better, but I think I'm a little sick. Ms. Welling said I picked up a bug from Mickey, probably."

Elizabeth silently cursed. She had planned on taking Katie out for ice cream, or doing something that kept them in a crowd of people. Secretly she had planned on doing everything short of camping outside the police station. "We better get you home so you can lay down then." She told her, sweeping her fingers through the girls blond curls.

"I have to tell you something Ms. Welling said."

"Okay, tell me in the car. The wind's getting a little cooler and I don't want you to feel worse." She lied. Ms. Welling was Katie's third grade teacher, and absolute hero. How a third grade teacher could possibly manage to be a child's hero while at the same time dishing out homework was beyond her, but she didn't press the matter. In the car Katie started chatting while tugging the seatbelt across her lap. Normally her niece was fairly quiet, so apparently a bug wasn't the only thing she got in her system.

"She said if I kept up the grades, I could go to Milton after I complete the fifth grade."

"I'm proud of you for doing so well." She murmured absentmindedly as she continually exchanged glances with her rear view mirror. Was that car following her? It was still on her tail after four turns.

"That's the school Mister Bruce Wayne went to. I want to be famous like him too. Can I go there?"

"You can do anything you apply yourself to."

"Aunt Lizzy, are you okay? Did you pick up a bug too?"

Elizabeth let out a relieved breath as the car behind her turned onto another street. Paranoia at its best. "I might have. Maybe we should both lay down when we get home."

"I think you just passed it."

"That's okay, we're taking the long way around today."

"… Okay."

Elizabeth locked and bolted the door behind her, before racing around to make sure all other forms of entrance were safely shut and locked as well. Nothing came in while she was gone. Hopefully it would stay that way while she was there.

Katie giggled as she dumped her books on the kitchen table. Elizabeth smiled sheepishly at her. "I am acting a little crazy, aren't I?"

Katie looked up at her as if she hadn't noticed her standing there. "No, I just have the giggles." As if to prove it, she giggled again. "I think it's the bug," she laughed.

Elizabeth's heart stopped, and suddenly the room swayed as the shock hit her like she had stepped out of an air-conditioned room into a hot, sticky summer. It wasn't just any bug that Katie picked up from school, and she probably hadn't picked it up from school at all. The room was suddenly so much hotter, and Elizabeth dumped her jacket into the nearest chair as she made her way into the study, where she kept the gun locked in a drawer hidden under a nest of papers. Something told her she'd need it tonight.