Chapter 7 - Hills and Valleys

When I woke up, I thought four things.

One: Bruce Wayne is Batman.

Two: I'm in the Batcave.

Three: I'm dying.

Four: Alfred knows.

A weight pressed down on my heart. I didn't know whether to be elated, frightened, angry, or a befuddling mix of the three. But I knew one thing for certain: nothing would ever be normal again.

I took a moment to calm down and observe my surroundings. The Batcave went on forever, up and down and off into the distance. A swarm of bats hung from the stalactites, and a couple fluttered around the computer that presided over the hideout at large like a commanding officer. There were artifacts to see everywhere, including, but not limited to, a giant penny, a model T-rex, several Batvehicles, and glass cases filled with old Batman and Robin uniforms. I made a mental note to try one on later.

I was lying on a bed in what appeared to be the medical ward. My heart was beating normally again, but I still felt nervous, like any sudden movement would set it off.

I heard a whine and looked over to see Titus standing a few feet away, his ears perked up. I smiled and reached out.

"Hey, bud."

He trotted over and laid his head on the bed beside me. I gave him a good scratch behind the ears.

"Thanks for blowing my cover. I think you might've saved my life."

He blinked his big eyes at me and wagged his tail, the most endearing of nurses. I had to admit, after seventeen years with no pets, Titus was a welcome addition to my pack of friends.

I glanced to my right. Alfred was sitting in a chair, fast asleep. He looked so old and tired. The wrinkles around his eyes weren't from smiling, and there seemed to be more lines to his forehead than before. Adding Batman to the list of things he was carrying on his shoulders, I couldn't imagine how he could still function. He was… I don't know, a hundred and fifty? Okay, more like eighty. Maybe. He was a miracle of nature, to be able to handle a house full of boys, a crumbling extended family life, and nights full of crime all at once.

But could he handle this? Could he handle my illness on top of it all?

As I was watching him, he stirred and woke up. Alfred took one look at me, and all the lines in his face got deeper.

"Samantha," he murmured. I couldn't tell if he was upset with me, or just too tired to say more. In any case, the sound of my name was like a mournful bell calling out my sentence.

"I'm okay," I tried.

"No, you're not."

I bit my lip. "Are you?"

Alfred rubbed his eyes. "I don't know."

My chest hurt again, but it wasn't because of an attack. It hurt to see my uncle so unsure, so unhappy, so full of heavy emotions. But one thing made the pain ease a little: I realized that those were the exact same things I had been feeling since my first attack. Seeing them in Alfred made me feel less alone. Some deep, cowardly part of me wanted to let him take all of my feelings and get this horrible weight off me.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," I said, shifting in the bed so I could sit facing my uncle. I met his eyes, and the grief there hit me like a shot. I flinched. "I wanted to tell you. I just didn't know how. I was sure you'd react… well, like this. And I knew you were carrying a lot of your own burdens, what with Mom and Dad… and the Waynes. I never expected this-" I nodded to the Batcave in all its glory. "But I guess this just adds to that burden even more. I didn't want to make it worse."

I stopped and waited, hoping he would say something. But he just sat there. I couldn't escape his gaze. Maybe he needed more of an explanation. I rambled on.

"I don't mean it like I want to hide things from you. I hate doing that. I was just trying to decide what to do, and then you found out on your own. I didn't want you to… to look at me like that! I want to live like I've been living, with you, just doing whatever I can, because I can, and I'm worried that if this is me for the rest of my life, then I'll never have that hup-!"

Alfred rushed forward and grabbed me in a fierce hug. The lump in my throat relaxed into tears as his breath shivered in my ear.

"Samantha," he said, his voice catching. "My dear, beautiful girl. The only thing I ever wanted for my family, and for you, was safety and happiness. And now I've brought you into this… this den of lies, and I've had to push you away to keep you from the truth. When all the while, I've only ever wanted to pull you closer."

I buried my face against his shoulder. "Alfred, will you please forgive me?"

"Only if you'll forgive me, for keeping you in the dark."

"Then it's a deal."

"Good. Good; I'm glad."

My breath was gentler now, the tears leaking from under my closed eyelids soft like rain. "I missed you."

Alfred smiled and held me out in front of him. "Then let's not be strangers anymore. No more secrets, no more lies. From now on, we live together in this house with nothing but the truth between us."

I nodded. "Agreed."

He kissed my forehead, then stood. "And as to worrying, I've been a butler for the Wayne family since before Master Bruce came into this world. I've got plenty of experience worrying, and it hasn't killed me yet, so you don't have to worry for me. Understand?"

"I understand."

He smiled. "I can tell it's hard. You're a worrier. It's a Pennyworth trait, I'm afraid. But it just means that we get the chance to care more than most people do."

My gaze drifted toward the stalactites. "On a happier note… how crazy is all of this? I could never, ever, in a million years have predicted this. That Bruce is Batman. And the boys are all Bat people - Damian is Robin, and Dick is Nightwing… you knew, didn't you? When he came into the kitchen that night?"

Alfred winked. "I know everything."

"You knew Nightwing was Dick, and still you had to watch me geek out about him like a total dork." I shook my head in disbelief. "You must think I'm such an idiot."

"No, actually, I think you're very clever for having figured it out on your own. The only other person I know of to have done that is Master Timothy, and he's the finest detective in Gotham, even over Batman. I don't know how you figured out the door, though…"

"I just watched you."

Alfred blinked. "Oh dear. Master Bruce isn't going to be happy about that."

"We won't tell him. No secrets between us, but the others are free game. Speaking of, where are they?" I asked, looking around the cave.

"Still out on patrol. It's four in the morning. Sun's still not up."

"Wow." I pushed the covers aside. "I feel like I've slept for days."

"Don't get up," Alfred said. "You just rest now."

"I'm fine, for now," I said, slinging my legs over the side of the bed. I swung them a bit and took a deep breath. "It's so quiet down here. I like it."

"I still feel jitters, having you here," Alfred said. "All this time, I've been working so hard to keep the cat in the bag; now that it's out, it feels… terribly dangerous, just talking about it out loud like this. And yet, it's strangely natural. It's like I knew you'd find out one day."

"Honestly, though. Batman's secret hideout is underneath his house. How long was he supposed to keep that a secret?"

Alfred laughed, lifting my spirits. I had missed that sound.

The Batcave drew my eyes once more, and I found myself staring, taking everything in with eyes wide as dinner plates. Alfred seemed to notice my intense interest and asked, "Is there anything you want to know? Questions you need answered? No secrets now. You can ask anything."

I thought for a second, absently petting Titus. Then I realized there was only one question that needed asking.

"How did Bruce become Batman?"

Alfred nodded and settled himself in. "Now, that's a story that will take up some time."

/

The boys got back an hour and a half later, all with grim expressions. They all kept their masks on as they came to see me.

"Get any good results?" Alfred asked.

"None," Bat-Bruce said. He turned to me. "How are you?"

I grinned. "Don't worry, Bruce. I'm fit as a fiddle now."

Nightwing barely tried to conceal his look of surprise. "Um… Alfred?"

"It's alright, Master Richard," Alfred said. "She worked it out on her own. I told you she was clever."

"Does she know all of us?" Tim asked.

"Yes, Tim, I do."

Tim sighed and took off his mask. "Thank heavens. I was getting so sick of keeping that secret."

"Ditto," Dick said, removing his own mask. "How much does she know?"

"I've been filling her in these past couple of hours," Alfred said. "She's practically an expert by now."

"If I can remember everything," I said. "I never realized the Batfam was so big."

Damian grimaced. "Batfam?"

"Yeah, it's a thing. You know, Bat-family."

"I like it," said Dick.

Bruce removed his cowl. I was stunned to see that his hat hair was almost better than his normal hair. How much hair gel did he use? Or was it like Superman, where great hair was just another one of his superpowers? Oh, dude, Superman… did Bruce know…? Of course, he did; they were both in the Justice League. This day just kept getting better!

"You probably have a lot of questions," Bruce said. "But first things first, I have to lay out the rules. You need to keep your head on, and stay alert at all times, and above all, keep quiet. This secret is dangerous, and the last thing I want is to put you at risk."

I stared at him. "Risk, huh? Yeah, I'm not at risk at all."

Bruce frowned. "We're working on that. Tim, the computer is yours. I want you to get her parents' files up and start a list of known associates we could ask to help with this project."

"Yes, sir."

"For now," Bruce said, "I'll take you back upstairs. Do you think you can walk?"

"Yeah, I can walk. I'm not helpless." I got out of bed and immediately set out for the stairs. "You coming, Batman?"

I heard Alfred chuckle. "I think she'll be fine, Master Bruce."

Before I left the cave, I glanced quickly back at the boy in the red helmet. Red Hood, apparently. My mind seemed to be having trouble swallowing the fact that it wasn't "John" under there. There was no John.

That was Jason Todd, back from the dead.

Alfred had skimmed over that part of the story fairly quickly, mostly because I don't think he fully understands it himself. How could a person die, resurrect, and come out normal? How does one even get resurrected?

It was too much to process, so I shoved it into the bulging file cabinet titled "Denial." I would look at it later, when I could handle the concept that dead people could come back. Dead people can't come back. If they could, I'd still be living with my parents.

/

Nobody was afraid to talk in front of me anymore. They said anything and everything, and when they said nothing, I didn't feel left out. Rather, I felt included in some grand story I couldn't know all the details to yet. But I would. Someday, I would.

I found out they were working on a case involving a jewelry thief prone to weaponizing everyday objects - including a ceramic mug, which explained Dick's hand, and the acid I had heard mentioned during Dick and Tim's conversation. As the boys listed out the objects he had used so far - objects which, by the way, perfectly matched the letters from the decoding program - a phrase popped into my head: odd job. Dick liked it, and it stuck. So, our thief: Oddjob.

I also learned that Babs was Batgirl, which made me like her even more. Naturally, I wanted to tell her that I knew, so Bruce invited her over for dinner Monday night, and I made a point of being the one to open the door for her. As she walked in, I smiled my widest smile.

"Glad you could come, Batgirl."

Her face was priceless. She shot a bewildered look at Dick, who was hovering behind me. His excited bouncing explained enough to calm Barbara's fears, and the shock fell away, to be replaced with joy. She flung her arms around me and squealed.

"Oh my gosh! I can't believe they told you! I hate secrets, I'm so glad you know!"

"Oh, they didn't tell me. I found out."

Babs made a face. "Uh oh. Who messed up?"

"That would be myself," Alfred sighed, shutting the door behind us. "I apparently led her to the cave by accident. But other than that, it was entirely Samantha."

"Wow," Barbara said. "Count me impressed. You have to tell me what gave it away, though. I'm kind of the security system around here. I need to stay updated."

"You got it."

I dragged her off to my room while Alfred finished making dinner. There, I told her all about the clues I found, the many details that tipped me off, and finally, the night I put all the pieces together. Of course, that led right into telling her about my illness. I sped through the details, trying hard not to get bogged down in emotions. But knowing you have a disease that killed your parents and saying it out loud are two very different things.

I only glanced at Barbara's face a few times. It was solemn, her mouth drawn down at the corners, but her eyes patient. She only asked one question, right at the end.

"Are you scared?"

I blew out my breath and lay back on my bed. "I guess so. But I've lived with this for so long - this weird, impossible thing that hates me - I almost feel like it was inevitable."

"No." Babs sat next to me and squeezed my hand. "No, not inevitable. Just unlucky. Really unlucky, Sam. I'm so, so sorry."

"It's okay. And Bruce and Tim are already doing research."

"Yeah, I'd think. They'll do everything they can, Samantha. We'll take care of you."

I gripped her hand tight, feeling the tough calluses there that I could finally explain.

"Everything is so different now," I said. "Good and bad different. I don't really know how to stay sane."

"I'll help," Babs said. "You know I will. I'm here whenever you need me. Even if I'm out on patrol, you call, and I'll come running."

I closed my eyes and leaned against her, shoulder to shoulder.

"Thank you."

/

Unfortunately, not everyone took my illness so well.

After Barbara had left, when everyone was going to bed, Alfred came into my room to say goodnight. I could tell something was bothering him; he kept pinching the bridge of his nose, pressing his fingers to the corners of his eyes.

"Is everything alright, Alfred?"

He sat on the bed and put his hand over mine. I could feel the emotion in his touch.

"Just fine, love." He smiled. It was painfully fake.

I pursed my lips. "Alfred, what's wrong?"

"Nothing at all. I just wanted to… say goodnight."

I looked up at him. "The last two nights, you weren't nearly this emotional. What are you worried about?"

Alfred took a deep breath. "I guess… tonight, it hit me properly, where all of this is going. I saw you talking with Miss Gordon and the boys - so natural with people your age - and I thought… I just thought it was beautiful."

"Alfred," I sighed. I got up and threw my arms over his shoulders. "I don't think I can say anything that will make it better."

"Perhaps I can." He lifted my chin, so he could see my face. "Samantha, darling, I love you, and everything's going to be fine."

I smiled. "That works."

Alfred kissed the top of my head. "Don't you ever change. No matter what this sickness does to you, don't you dare let it change you from the caring and brave young woman I know you to be."

"I can do that," I said.

"Good." Alfred walked me to my bed. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to bring you breakfast in bed tomorrow. Just call it a treat from your old uncle."

"I wouldn't mind that. I'm still coming into work, mind you."

"Oh, I'm counting on it. Tomorrow's laundry day."

He got up and left, still wearing a brave smile. But I wasn't stupid; I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his strides seemed unnecessarily short, like he was holding himself back from sprinting. Alfred could say whatever he wanted; it couldn't mask the fact that he was more worried than anyone else.

I frowned and settled into bed, my heart sore. For a second, I wished I could take it all back. I'd give up knowing all of their secrets just to see Alfred happy again.

/

Alfred closed Samantha's door and had to fight down a wave of sadness. He wiped a tear from his cheek, took a deep breath, and straightened his shoulders.

"Alfred."

Alfred jumped as Bruce appeared behind him. "That's ruddy annoying, you know that?"

Bruce laughed. "I do. That's why I usually save it for the bad guys." He nodded to the door. "She okay?"

"For now, sir. She's cheerful, as usual."

Bruce dug his hands into his pockets. "Listen. The boys and I are going on patrol, but Tim is willing to take the computer. You can stay with her tonight."

"You're sure you can handle Gotham without my help?"

"No," Bruce laughed. "But I think we can manage one night."

Alfred gave him a grateful nod. "Thank you, Master Bruce."

Bruce smiled. "I've made some calls, and Barry Allen's agreed to come in tomorrow. He's going to bring a couple physical experts in from STAR Labs to take a look at her…"

"That's very kind of you, sir," Alfred interrupted. "But… I'll have to ask you to call them off."

"Why?"

"To put it lightly, there's nothing they can do that hasn't already been tried and failed. I don't want to force her back into a world of hospitals and doctors and tests when there's not going to be any good results."

"We can't give up, Alfred. We can do better…"

"Exactly the point, sir. We can do better. Which is why I'd prefer to keep the research and tests limited to what we can achieve. With my medical training and the minds of multiple world class detectives working to save Samantha, we're going to get much better results than any ordinary lab."

"STAR Labs isn't an ordinary lab."

"And Samantha's illness doesn't stem from the speed force, sir. Simply put, until there is nothing left that we can do, we should work on this with what we have."

"I understand. I'll tell Barry we're good. He'll be disappointed, though. There's a lot of scientists there who would love to do research on this."

"Well, you can tell them, then, that my niece is not a bacterium in a petri dish, and I'll thank them to keep to their microscopes."

Bruce grinned. "Duly noted. Take care, Alfred."

As he jogged off, Alfred wished he could call Bruce back, beg him to call in STAR Labs, the best and brightest of the science world, heck, bring in Lex Corp if he must. He would do anything to remove Samantha from danger. But Alfred couldn't stop seeing her like a bird in a cage - silent and unmoving, living but lifeless, with no future but endless imprisonment.

He couldn't sentence her to that.

They had what they needed here in the Batcave. They had enough money to do their own research. That was one of the perks of working for Bruce Wayne, and by extension, Batman. Supplies were never limited. And Alfred would trust no one with his little girl but himself.

/

Things only went downhill from there.

I spent a couple days in the medical ward of the Batcave, strung up like a marionette and surrounded by beeping monitors. Bruce claimed they were gathering information. I never realized my body had so much information to give.

If the advanced courses in puppetry weren't bad enough, that ugly feeling of uselessness started to creep in. I overheard a lot of talk about Oddjob, as well as several other minor occurrences, and ended up gathering a lot of information, but I could do nothing to contribute. I came down to the cave late one night when I couldn't sleep, and found Alfred frantically searching satellites for Dick's position, yelling into his mouthpiece.

"Nightwing, come in! Nightwing!"

I rushed to his side. "Alfred, what happened?"

"I've lost his signal," Alfred said. "He dropped off the radar while fighting some thugs in an alleyway off Gate Street."

"Can I help?"

"No, no… Nightwing, are you receiving?"

"I could-"

"Not now!"

Alfred tuned me out completely after that, even though I stood there for a good ten minutes. I heard when Nightwing picked up his com and apologized for dropping it during the fight. I saw Alfred's relief, the way his whole body relaxed as if he had made it through some terrible trial. He was so worried, all the time, and he wouldn't let me even try to help.

I tried to avoid the Batcave during patrol after that. I still had trouble sleeping; every time I started to relax, I would feel my heartbeat, or my shoulder would twinge, or my leg would ache, and I would tense again, expecting another attack. But I forced myself to stay in bed, and slowly, very slowly, I managed to settle back into a sleep pattern. On Sunday night, I finally got to bed at a good time, and I woke up Monday morning refreshed and ready.

I was the only one who felt that way. Lo and behold, when I came into the dining room, there were droopy faces all around. I sighed.

"Long night?"

"Yeah. Guess who finally showed up," Jason said.

"Oddjob?"

"Give the lady a prize."

Barbara was here. I filled up a plate and sat next to her. "Hey, Babs."

She gave me a tired smile. "Hey, Sam."

"How'd they rope you in?"

"I roped myself in. I'm the one who saw him."

"So, what happened?"

"He came, and he went," Dick said. "Babs gave us the heads up that he was at James Port Jewelers, and we got there as fast as we could, but…"

"He got in and out before we could do anything," Tim finished. "And all he stole was a bracelet charm."

"Same kind as last time, though," Bruce said. "It's a new pattern. He's stealing limited edition Batman charms with inset yellow topaz."

"Mm. So this is a personal matter," I said.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "I think he's aiming for the jewels."

"Not to mention they're limited stock," Dick said. "Which means they're expensive."

"And trackable," Tim added.

"You do realize I was joking, right?"

"Yes," Dick said, "but Bruce isn't allowed to acknowledge humor. It's in the Batcode."

"Gotcha."

Barbara sighed. "I guess we should get tracking, then. Shall I…?"

"The computer is yours, Miss Gordon," Bruce said.

Barbara smiled. "One day, that'll be written down on actual paper."

"You wish," Tim muttered.

As Babs got up, I rose, too. "Hey, can I come with?"

"Of course! That is, if Alfred doesn't need you."

I glanced at my uncle. He was squinting at me, like he was trying to read me for ulterior motives. I squirmed.

"Can I go?"

Alfred set his jaw. "Very well. I'll come down later to do some tests, if you're willing to wait for me."

My shoulders slumped. "Do I have to?"

"Do you want to get better?"

"Fine, I'll wait."

Alfred shot me a fleeting smile. I hardly got any real, genuine smiles from him anymore.

Babs tapped me on the shoulder. "You coming?"

"Y-yeah." I tore my eyes away from Alfred's mournful expression and followed my friend.

/

I swiveled around in the Bat-swivel-chair that sat in front of the Batcomputer in the Batcave. "Is everything Bat-named in here?"

Barbara didn't look up from her rapidly typing fingers. "No, not everything. Feels like it sometimes, though. Batarangs, Batcomputer, Batmobile, Batplane…"

"So why aren't the boys called the Batboys? Batmen Jr.? Batminis?"

"Because they're too proud to admit that they're direct copies of the Bat himself. I, on the other hand, don't have that problem. Hence, Batgirl."

"And if you ever reveal your secret identity, you can call yourself Babs-girl."

"Ha ha."

The computer pinged, and a soft female voice echoed through the caves. Item located.

Barbara looked up. "Aha. We've hit our target."

I swiveled to look at the computer screen. "So, we know where all the special edition Batman pins are?"

"Yup. Looks like there are nine stores left that carry it. Huh… and get this. There's also a new shipment coming in for the three our man hit last night. I wonder where Oddjob will end up tonight?"

"He's been pretty inconsistent," I said. "First he shows up every night, in a clear pattern, and then he vanishes for days. I wouldn't expect him to do the obvious."

"So, we would expect him to do the opposite of the obvious - attack one of the stores. We'll split up our resources and spread ourselves too thin to make a move if he does. Chances are, he'll still hit the shipment even if he goes for one of the stores."

Barbara and I looked at each other.

"What do we tell the boys?" I ask.

"I don't know. I bet Bruce will be able to come up with a better plan. I'll tell him the stats when he gets down here tonight."

Something that had been running around in the back of my head suddenly came to the surface. "Babs, do you think you can find that decoding program Tim's been working with?"

"Your wish is my command," Barbara said, clicking away at the buttons. In an instant, the same program I had seen on Dick's computer appeared on the screen.

"We have S, N, N, M, A. Five random letters. And nothing the program comes up with makes sense." Babs turned to me. "Why do you need this? You think you've figured something out?"

"Maybe. It just seems odd that he'd make his weapons so obvious. They're all such random things, it's like he's begging us to notice them. Like they're important."

"Which is why we've been running them through the decoder, yes, but if nothing's coming from it…"

"Well, he must not be done yet; we don't have all the pieces. But he's flaunting these random items so much, I'm certain they're meant to mean something. Possibly not a word like this, but definitely a code of some sort. And I'll bet it's a code that leads to something - probably a trap, but also possibly a bigger mystery or yet another clue; you know how the brainy types are."

Babs looked at me. "You're smart."

"Uh, no, I'm not. A ten-year-old who had watched enough TV could have told you he's leading us on. The boys got it weeks ago."

"No, but I mean, you're smart. You figured out that Bruce is Batman on your own. The only other person I know who's done that is Tim, and he's, like, light years beyond the rest of us. Even Batman."

"I'm just nosy. I figure things out that I shouldn't, and then I put two and two together."

"Exactly. That's called smart, Sam." Babs leaned back against the dashboard. "I think you could really help us out. Maybe not in a mask, but behind the scenes, you could totally solve mysteries and notice what we don't. You have the potential, you just need to use it."

I frowned and tapped the armrest. "Alfred won't let me."

"Why not?"

"Because he thinks I'm fragile. Or I get in the way. Something like that. Besides, today's the first day I've felt like I could really think. I haven't had much brain juice lately, what with… everything."

Babs hesitated. "How are you doing with all that? Being sick and all."

"Being halfway dead, you mean." I pounded my fist into the chair. "I feel so useless. Like a ticking time bomb. I can't do anything but wait for the next attack, and when it comes, I just sit it out until it's over. I have no control! Over myself, over other people's reactions… I've lost everything."

Babs came around the chair and put her hands on my shoulders. "We will find a cure. I promise. It might take a while, but Batman never fails."

"That's not true."

"So what? If Batman fails, he has us. We won't fail; as a family, we will never fail."

I looked up. "As a family?"

"Yeah. You're one of us now. Part of the Batfam."

I smiled. "Cool."

"You bet your boots it's cool. Now, I have to go. I want to set up extra security measures to try to get a scan of our guy. I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Okay. See you tonight."

She walked off into the depths of the Batcave, leaving me alone with the computer. I spun the chair to face it, staring at the five-letter code on the screen.

Five letters… shouldn't there be a sixth from last night?

"Computer," I said slowly. "What did Oddjob use last night for his heist?"

Opening report file for 06/18/18.

A new window opened, showing a brief report of the previous night's events. I scrolled through until I found what I was looking for - the primary weapon. Turns out it was an anvil. Dick was right, he was getting more dangerous. I returned to the decoding program and typed in the letter A.

Aamnns?

That obviously wasn't it. There was one unscrambling that caught my eye, though. I squinted. Nasman. Was it possible that the next couple letters would be a B and a T? But then what would the S and the other N be there for? Maybe a possessive, Batman's. Or plural, Batmans. But that would be Batmen. Unless Oddjob didn't care about grammar. Still left the other N, though.

I sighed and closed the decoder and the report. Clearly, whatever coded clue Oddjob was sending us wasn't complete yet. But I had gotten one thing from all this.

The word wasn't finished; Oddjob was going to strike again. And we still hadn't gotten a single peek at his face. If we all spread out to different locations waiting for him, we'd never catch him.

But what if we narrowed down the locations?

The thought hit me like a bomb. If there was only one place for Oddjob to find what he was looking for, he'd have to go there; we'd have him cornered.

I sat up and started thinking. We would have to get everything to the docks; it would be impossible to stop a ship from coming into port. It would, however, be easy and simple to have a few stores move their stock for a night. All I had to do was pull the right strings.

So which strings? I could tell Bruce and have him Batman it up, tell the GCPD and all that. But would a bunch of jewelry stores be more likely to listen to a stranger in a mask, or a fellow man of business? Bruce Wayne would probably have more leverage.

As the idea formed into a plan, I leapt from my chair and ran for the elevator.

/

Alfred turned a corner to find Bruce wandering the halls with a book in his hand. He looked up, and his business face turned on like a switch.

"Alfred. How's everything going?"

"Fine, sir. Have you seen my niece about?"

Before Bruce could speak another word, who should come running around the corner but Samantha herself. She skidded to a halt when she caught sight of her boss, and a wide, breathless grin lit up her face.

"Bruce!" she cried. "I've got it! I know how to catch Oddjob!"

Bruce barely batted an eye. "Tell me."

"At the moment, we don't know where he's going to show up. But what if there was only one place that he could show up? If what he was looking for was concentrated in one spot?"

Bruce nodded thoughtfully. "That would be good. Where did you have in mind?"

"The docks. There's a shipment of those same Batman charms coming in tonight, and it would be impossible to stop it from coming in. So we bring everything there, set it up like a trap. If he really wants these things, he'll have to come."

"The stores would have to be willing to move their stock. I could talk to Gordon as Batman, or…"

"Since jewelry stores are a little more likely to trust a businessman than a masked vigilante, I'd say perhaps try suggesting the scheme to the authorities as Bruce Wayne."

"Considering Bruce Wayne has been connected to Batman in the past, it wouldn't be a stretch to say he tipped me off."

"Exactly," Samantha said. "What do you think?"

Bruce was looking at her with a little too much pride. Alfred knew that look. It's how Bruce looked at his proteges when they did something right. Alfred's hands went cold.

"I think it's a great plan," Bruce said, a touch of the Bat growl in his voice. "I'll head over to the GCPD right now."

Samantha shifted her weight. "Could… could I come with?"

Bruce shook his head. "It's best if you aren't connected to this. Alfred, can you bring the Rolls to the front?"

"Right away, sir."

"Wait," Samantha said. "It was my plan. Can't I see it followed through?"

"No," Alfred snipped. "You're going to stay here, out of the spotlight, where you belong."

"It's for your own good, Sam," Bruce added.

"My own good? What, so I'm not safe if I so much as suggest a plan?"

"You have no idea how little it takes for someone to see you as a target," Alfred said. "We don't want your help if it leads to your harm." He glanced at Bruce. "And that means no enlisting her, either."

"I don't have to be enlisted," Samantha cried. "I want to help!"

"And I'm telling you, your help is not needed!" Alfred scolded his niece.

"What exactly do you think would happen if I just—"

"Hopefully we never find out! We don't tempt fate in this house, and that means you stay hidden and stay safe. Besides, you're supposed to be keeping your head down anyway. You're sick, Samantha, sick and fragile!"

"I'm not fragile."

"Can you tell me with absolute certainty that you won't collapse and die within the next few minutes?"

Samantha's lower lip quivered. She didn't answer.

"Go to the kitchen," Alfred said. "There's dishes that need washing."

Samantha shook her head. "No. No, I won't."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I won't wash your stupid dishes," Samantha said, blinking back the rivers from her eyes. "I'm too fragile, anyway, right?"

She turned on her heel and sprinted away. Bruce frowned.

"That was a little harsh, don't you think?"

"If it makes her see sense, then not at all. I've used far harsher with you."

"Yeah, but she's not me."

Alfred turned on his master. "Are you taking her side?"

Bruce raised his hands. "Not at all. I agree, she shouldn't intentionally make herself known as an assistant to Batman."

"I think she shouldn't be his assistant at all. On which note, I'll warn you again. No enlisting her help; the more she does for you, the more she'll expect a share in the action, and the last thing we want is a massive target on her head."

"She gave us a chance at Oddjob," Bruce said, frowning. "We may need her help, Alfred."

Bruce stormed away, his shoes silent against the carpet. He vanished into the shadows, leaving Alfred alone, mouth still buzzing with a thousand unspoken words.

Bruce couldn't possibly think Samantha would be a help to Batman. In her condition, that was the last thing she would be able to do.