Disclaimer: Still don't own anything Batman related.

A/N: Thanks for reading!

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Alfred was waiting in the airport when he saw the news:

Zombie Apocalypse in Gotham, screamed the headline. Below was a grainy photograph of panicked citizens running in the street. Alfred sighed, picked up the newspaper and began reading.

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In recent days there's been an outbreak of an attenuated strain of the rabies virus in Gotham. The virus was under development in a LuthorCorp Lab as an improved version of the rabies vaccine, before somehow escaping from a high security BSL- 2 laboratory and essentially being released to the public. Although not much is known about the virus, it is thought to be non-lethal, with some rabies-like symptoms.

The symptoms include dizziness, nausea, disorientation, partial paralysis, including paralysis of the throat muscles, and increased aggression.

There have been no signs of Batman during this crisis, though some have claimed to have seen a winged "zombie Batman" instead. Could it be true that the caped crusader actually succumbed to a viral infection during Gotham's time of greatest need? Only time will tell.

In the meantime, as an extraordinary show of humanitarianism, LuthorCorp is offering the "zombie" antidote at half-price to anyone who can prove they are infected.

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Alfred rolled his eyes and folded up the newspaper. "So much for journalistic integrity," he muttered. "However, I suppose a trip to LuthorCorp is in order before returning to the mansion. One can never be too prepared."

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Alfred came home to a mansion full of trash, and wild-eyed rabid zombie Batman. And zombie Nightwing.

"I see you had an eventful time while I was away, Master Bruce," Alfred said, while sighing and taking the zombie antidotes out of his bag.

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When Bruce woke up, the first thing he noticed was that his throat hurt terribly, and he had a pounding headache.

"Ugh," Bruce groaned as he sat up in bed and nearly fell out as a wave of dizziness hit.

"Master Bruce, please lie down until you've recovered fully," Alfred said while carrying a tea tray into the room.

Bruce almost fell out of the bed again in surprise. "Alfred, you're back?" he asked, and his jaw dropped open.

"Astute as always," Alfred remarked as he set down the tea tray on the nightstand next to the bed.

Bruce frowned. "The last I remember, you were on vacation, and I had to fight the Joker." Bruce glanced down at his arm and noticed it was still bandaged up, but it looked as if it had been re-bandaged. "And then…" Bruce couldn't remember much, but he vaguely remembered fighting with Dick, being in a lot of pain, having to go on patrol, and fight the Joker again… "What's going on in Gotham? Alfred I think there's something wrong with everyone; and I think I might have bit Dick, and uh-"

Alfred gave him what he used to call the "Alfred Knows Best" eye. "Calm down, Master Bruce. Richard is asleep in his room. He may be a little worse for wear, but he'll be fine. As will the city." Alfred placed the cup of tea into Bruce's hands. "Now drink."

Bruce took a sip of the tea and made a face. He hated chamomile. "What was wrong with everyone?"

"Oh nothing much. Just a Zombie Apocalypse plague manufactured by LuthorCorp. But they were kind enough to provide the vaccine for a price, so it all worked out quite nicely," Alfred deadpanned.

"What?" Bruce asked eloquently.

"Well, it looks as if you're recovering nicely. I'll go check on Master Richard next."

Bruce groggily remembered he had other batkids to worry about. Hopefully the hellions had managed to avoid the zombie apocalypse with all their video game playing. "Wait, Alfred, where are Tim and Damian?"

"Oh they had a fine time partying in the manor, don't you worry." Alfred's eyes seemed to twinkle. "And now they're having a fine time now cleaning up the mess they caused while I was away."

Bruce sunk back into the bed. All was well, or almost well, now that Alfred had returned. For now. Bruce suddenly had a horrible gut-wrenching thought that Alfred might have enjoyed his vacation enough to want to take one every year. "Alfred, are you going on vacation next year?" Bruce asked, with only a slight edge of panic in his voice.

"And come home to a giant catastrophe again? I think not."

Bruce sighed with contentment. "Alfred, I'll give you a raise every year if you don't take a vacation."

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Very good, sir."