A/N: To the guest reviewing my story, I have no other way to reply to your comments. Thank you so much for reviewing, it means a lot to me! I really hope that by relationship Gordon/Bruce and Gordon/Batman you mean the relations I write between those two and not a potential pairing. It is and it will be a gen story.

Chapter 6

"That would be all, thank you." Alfred dismissed the catering staff and looked around.

It had been some time since he last organised a party set partly in the open grounds. Bruce had not given him any opportunities for organising festivities after he had returned to Gotham, except for that fateful birthday celebration that ended with a fire. Since the mansion was still being rebuilt and would not be ready before late autumn at best, the few parties he did coordinate were set in the penthouse. Being outside Gotham on a warm Saturday afternoon was a pleasant change.

It was also a special party, considering what Alfred was used to. No posh guests, no vicious gossiping hidden behind fake smiles, no alcohol. Most of the guests he could see at the moment were far more interested in a bouncy castle. And far more entertaining to observe.

While there were many events popping up in Bruce Wayne's mail, there were two that actually sparkled Bruce's interest. One was the suggestion of participating in organising a large fundraising for Gotham's hospital to speed up rebuilding. Soon Wayne Enterprises became the moving factor, with their owner as the face of the whole event and the company managing the coordination.

The other one was a surprise of sorts for both Bruce and Alfred. From all the possibilities of socialising Bruce picked an invitation drawn by a group of children from an orphanage, inviting him to visit them as their benefactor for Children's Day. There was a more official letter attached to the drawing. It was clumsy and awkward and very clearly sent without any real expectation of Bruce Wayne actually participating - and that was perhaps exactly why Bruce decided to consider it. After a moment of genuine confusion, which Alfred knew left his employer feeling guilty afterwards, Bruce remembered he had at some point intervened and bought the orphanage building to save the children from being evicted, then promptly forgot about the matter. It seemed they had not forgotten.

A closer look at the orphanage's accounts proved that they were still struggling financially and their options for organising something fun for the children were very limited. A few phone calls and a quick brainstorming later Bruce Wayne had not only accepted the invitation, but also turned from a guest into a host, since he decided to upgrade the celebration a bit. They rented a recreation place just outside Gotham and hired some animators to organise a treasure hunt on the vast premises. Most of the children went to explore the grounds and pick the hints in groups, apart from the few youngest, who were more interested in trampolines, bouncy castle and several competitions prepared for them. Much to everyone's surprise, so was Bruce Wayne.

Alfred didn't expect his employer to become so personally invested in the whole thing, but it was good to see him involved in something that wasn't Batman or Wayne Enterprises related, especially since he seemed to actually enjoy it. The butler assumed it was just another way to keep himself busy, in an environment where he didn't have to pretend a lot. The children were unlikely to judge him, and their guardians were just grateful for support and some extra amusement for their wards. And for once, unlike Bruce's usual nightly activities, it was a low-risk occupation that didn't bring "shoot on sight" danger.

The building where they prepared a meal for later was a quiet place for now, with most of the children gone and the staff members working at the back, so Alfred enjoyed the break while it lasted and was surprised when he spotted a boy sitting in the empty room. He was much older than the kids playing outside, all dangly limbs of a pre-teen. He seemed preoccupied with his book and ignored the butler.

Alfred managed to inquire about him when he went out with a tray of juice and glasses for the children and found one of the orphanage workers sitting by the table at the porch, watching the smallest wards play. She said the boy, Peter, lost his parents in a car crash a little over a month ago and was still recovering from a surgery himself. It was only his second week in the orphanage since he was released from hospital and he was having trouble adapting to this new reality. They were giving him time and space.

When Alfred went back inside, he stopped by to observe the boy. He looked sullen, sitting with a book but not reading it, and he reminded Alfred of little Bruce way too much to simply leave him to brood when the other children were having fun.

"It's Peter, right?" Alfred inquired. "Why don't you sit outside to read? It's quite lovely there."

The boy looked up, slightly surprised that he was being addressed, then shrugged.

"I don't want to."

"Then perhaps you would like to join me for a glass of juice and some cake?" Alfred offered with a kind smile. "I'm sure no one will notice a piece or two are missing."

He didn't get any sort of enthusiastic response, not that he counted on it, but the boy nodded and followed Alfred to the kitchen. He seemed fine at first, but the butler saw he moved with the same painful carefulness he sometimes observed in Bruce after some sort of mishap.

"Do you like James Bond?" Alfred asked again when he placed a plate with chocolate cake before the boy. "I saw you are reading Ian Fleming," he explained when Peter looked at him with surprise.

"Yeah. I like the movies."

"So, which Bond is your favourite?"

In the end, coaxing the boy to talk wasn't that difficult. Soon Alfred found himself drinking coffee and talking about Sean Connery and Timothy Dalton, with Peter correcting him now and then when the butler mixed the events from various movies. He has very strong opinions about his favourite parts and defended them fiercely.

As they talked, Alfred watched through the window the smallest children playing on the grass. He was pleased to see that while Bruce started as barely a supervisor of the various competitions they had prepared, he was soon forced to participate in games. It was good to see him at ease for a change, engaging in activities that didn't force him to wear any masks. And should someone find it unusual to see Bruce Wayne playing with children, they could always present it as a whim of the billionaire. He could and he would do whatever he wanted, after all.

Peter was in the middle of recalling the plot of one of the movies, when additional movement outside caught Alfred's attention. He saw armed strangers heading right at Bruce, who was currently crouching by one of the girls, explaining something, unaware of the danger.

"Peter, we should-," the butler paused as he pressed the alarm button on his wrist band.

Alfred saw Bruce jerk his head when his watch must have vibrated in warning. He spun around, but the men were already about ten meters away from him, guns pointed both at him and at the children. Bruce tensed, barked something to the kids, but made no move except stepping in front the nearest one. Alfred didn't have to see to know the cold fury boiling underneath that focused gaze. Batman could fight six men. Bruce Wayne, surrounded by children and with guns pointed at them, could not.

The children spotted the danger too and chaos erupted. Two of the men apprehended Bruce, who tried to control the children while not making any movements that could be interpreted as threatening. Alfred knew he would have been able to break free, but then one of the men shot in the air and everyone froze.

Almost. One of the smallest boys, gripping at a plush teddy Alfred had seen him win in the game, panicked and tried to run, but tripped and fell. Alfred couldn't hear them through the closed windows, but a masked man must have yelled at the child and tried to kick him to make him move. Bruce could not stay passive anymore. He pulled free from the men holding him, but a gun pressed against his chest stopped him before he could reach the kid, then a punch he didn't try to dodge made him stumble. He stilled, hands up, and said something, pointing at the boy. The men laughed and grabbed him more brutally this time, hitting him for no apparent reason since he didn't struggle. Then one of them pulled his armed hand up and backhanded him with the gun. Bruce's knees buckled and he went limp in the oppressors' firm grip.

"Holy shit."

Alfred snapped from his reverie and looked at his young companion, who was staring at the scene playing outside with wide eyes. There was no time to lose.

"Peter, we need to hide and get help," he urged the boy. They hadn't been noticed yet and it might have been their only chance for fleeing.

Peter didn't need any more encouragement. He was already up, his eyes still locked at the oppressors apprehending children outside.

"I can't reach soap."

A high-pitched complaint almost made Alfred jump. He saw a tiny girl walking from the toilet, looking for someone to help her. She spotted Alfred and extended her wet, dripping hands towards him.

"We'll wash your hands in a moment, dear." The butler rushed towards her and picked her up. "Now I need you to be very, very quiet, alright?"

There was a narrow door at the back of the kitchen, which barred the stairs leading to the attic. Alfred had closed them earlier to prevent any curious visitors, but the set of keys was still in his pocket.

He ushered Peter inside and put the girl down to lock the doors behind them. The boy took her hand without prompting and started climbing the stairs. He moved slow enough for Alfred to catch up with them before they reached the end.

"Here," he pushed the doors to the right. The room that probably stretched over the main dining hall downstairs was filled with old chairs and equipment, as well as several boxes with seasonal decorations and what looked like a festival tent someone had stretched over to dry and never packed.

"Peter, if you have a phone, turn off any sounds," Alfred whispered as he walked carefully towards the window. "Take- what's your name?" he looked down at the girl clutching the boy's hand.

"Jenny."

"Take Jenny and sit down there, alright?" he pointed at the tent. There was plenty of space for two kids. "I'm calling police. If those guys down there hear me, if you hear someone forcing the doors, hide and stay hidden no matter what. They will likely notice me only."

He only got a shaky nod as response and Peter led the younger child between the boxes while Alfred was already calling 911. A few quick questions later, which the butler answered as precisely as possible, the operator connected him with the police.

"How many people?" The police operator didn't waste time on confirming Alfred's personal details and went straight to the business.

"Forty six children in age from six to fifteen, four of their guardians. Bruce Wayne. Three staff members and myself. Most of the kids had gone treasure hunting in the park with three guardians. There are five children taken hostage with master Wayne. Two kids are with me at the moment. I don't know where the remaining four adults are." Alfred recited quickly.

"And the attackers?"

"I saw six men. Oh, there are two more I can see from the window. And two vans." Alfred looked around, careful not to come too close to the window in case he could be noticed from outside. "And I believe their main target is Bruce Wayne." His voice didn't falter."They went right after him."

"Thank you, sir. Do not take any actions and stay hidden. SWAT's on the way."

Before the call ended, Alfred remembered the name of one of the orphanage workers who had gone with the older kids and passed it on to the officer, hoping they would be able to contact the group and prevent them from coming back. He turned off the sound in his phone and turned his attention back to the children in his care.

Peter was sitting hunched on the floor, watching the butler with a mix of horror and fascination. Alfred had the feeling he had impressed the boy and perhaps this was something he could play into to keep him calm. Jenny, on the other hand, looked at the verge of tears, sensing that something was wrong but perhaps not realising fully what was happening.

"The police is coming," Alfred reassured them softly and sat on a chair that didn't look like it was going to fall apart. "It's alright, Jenny, we just need to be quiet. Come here."

The girl didn't hesitate to climb into his knees. Peter clambered to his feet after her and picked a chair for himself.

"So what now?"

"Now," Alfred took up his phone and open an app. He smiled a bit conspiratorially to the boy. "Now we are going to check on master Wayne."