Sorry it's been a couple weeks since the last update... here's one for spring break.


Chapter 4 – To the Batcave

Bruce had every good intention of following Alfred's advice, at least the first part of it. Taking a day or two away from Wayne Enterprises to clear his head was long overdue. So what if it was prompted by something so trivial and petty as a date gone wrong? Being a self-aware adult meant stepping back every once in a while, no matter the reason.

As for Alfred's directive to call Selina back… Bruce laughed out loud at the thought. Still, he vowed to thoroughly examine things before deciding.

Try as he may, his thoughts kept bouncing between evil vs. good judgments:

Villain… newly rich socialite.

Villain's customer… distinguished lady of character.

Liar…

He couldn't think of a counterbalance for that last one. Selina was a liar – of that, he was emphatically convinced. But in order to convince Alfred to any degree, he needed proof.

Brooding in a leather armchair in his study, Bruce's eyes drifted to the grandfather clock in the corner. If it was proof he wanted, this wasn't the room to find it. The trick would be slipping "downstairs" without Alfred noticing.

There was no sound of the butler rustling about, not even the faint squeak of window cleaner being rubbed across mirrors. Bruce listened for a good minute before tiptoeing over to the clock, sliding it aside, and vanishing behind the wall. Moments later he was deep within the bowels of the Batcave, switching on the massive supercomputer and settling into place. He could hear and feel the electromagnetic pulse of the processor coming online. Its sheer power never failed to impress him.

Now it was just a matter of loading the police database, logging in with the backdoor password, entering a few additional codes…

"Master Wayne, may I inquire what you are doing?"

For a supercomputer, it could be so damned slow sometimes…

Bruce took a deep breath and half-turned his face toward Alfred, who had managed to appear out of thin air. The man should really have a second career as a stage magician.

"Just doing some research," he said defensively.

"For what, or whom?"

"Someone I suspect has a criminal past."

"Really? Doing the commissioner a favor? What case is this for?" Alfred feigned innocence.

Bruce bristled. "It's not for Jim, or any case. Just… mind your own business."

"You of all people know how likely I am to follow that order," Alfred almost snorted. "Besides, that machine wastes as much electricity in fifteen minutes as half of New Jersey's monthly usage. As a tax-paying citizen, I'd like to know what 'research' you're using it for."

"Based on your tone, it sounds as if you already have a guess."

"We know each other so well," smirked Alfred.

Bruce felt self-conscious warmth creeping up his neck. "Listen, I trust my instincts. You have to believe me when I say I'm positive she's hiding something!"

"And you aren't hiding something from her?"

"That's different!" huffed Bruce. "It's for noble reasons."

"How quickly you assume that hers are ignoble."

Fine then. Force me to play my cards, why don't you? "It's not just a feeling or hunch. There was a name on one of Jim's files, not long after I first became Batman. I swear it was Sabrina, or Selena, or something S. Kyle."

"So your suspicions are based on some hazy glimpse from nearly ten years ago?" Alfred rolled his eyes. "Someone has delusions of grandeur, fancying himself an eidetic memory."

"Just let me conduct this search, and you can gloat all you like if I'm wrong."

"I have no interest in gloating, Master Wayne. I only want to stop you from doing something you'll later regret."

Bruce frowned, confused. "Why would I possibly regret uncovering the truth?"

Sighing, Alfred laid a hand on Bruce's shoulder. "If you're right, you'll dismiss Miss Kyle offhand, missing the chance to ever grow from a relationship with her. If you're wrong, you'll scowl and pout over your instincts being wrong, and just avoid her out of spite."

Crossing his arms, Bruce glared at the screen, fixated on the tiny cursor in the search bar.

"Now, I've kept my opinion to myself about all the women you've seen over the years," Alfred went on, "but heaven knows they weren't all angels, Master Wayne. And not once did you bother to run background checks on any of them!"

"There's a first time for everything," mumbled Bruce.

"Including a first time for swallowing your pride?"

"My pride?"

"Yes. I think you want to discredit Miss Kyle simply to make her rebuff sting less."

"Been reading psychology textbooks in your spare time, Alfred?" Bruce retorted.

"Master Wayne, you know quite well I have no spare time."

Emitting a dry laugh, Bruce shook his head. "True enough."

"I realize this is difficult," Alfred said gently. "But you are a man of great character, and I know you are capable of granting Miss Kyle the benefit of the doubt. Whatever her past, everyone deserves a second chance, an equal playing field."

"Maybe I'm tired of taking the high road all the time."

"After sparing your arch-nemeses' lives more times than I can count, this is the straw that breaks the camel's back? Really?"

In an impetuous flash, Bruce switched off the supercomputer, still staring resentfully at the monitor.

"There. Happy now?" he glowered.

"Mostly relieved," Alfred answered. "And not just for your carbon footprint."

Bruce still wouldn't turn toward him. "So you've got everything figured out for me. Forgive me if I don't feel grateful."

"Oh, I don't certainly expect gratitude. At least not yet."

"But you expect me to cooperate, or there will be consequences?"

Alfred shrugged. "The line between delicate and heavy wash settings is so fickle on that old Kenmore washing machine. Any distraction on my part, and I fear your suit may come out in tatters."

The corner of Bruce's mouth curled slightly upward. He had to hand it to him, Alfred's sense of humor was whip-smart in any circumstance. "Can't have that, can we?"

"Indeed not," Alfred handed him the cordless phone he'd been hiding behind his back.

"What, you want me to call her right now?!" Bruce recoiled.

"Dear me, I must have forgotten to mention earlier," Alfred apologized. "There's a Pamela Isley on the phone, calling to discuss Wayne Botanical acquiring her company."