Chapter 33 – Man About Town

Upon exiting their limo at the ball, Selina's only wardrobe regret was having not worn sunglasses.

Camera flashes strobed relentlessly, like visual assault rifles. She could barely see the red of the carpet in front of her. Good thing Bruce kept a firm grip on her hand, leading her through the press gauntlet and into the serene ballroom. As the black patches slowly dissolved from her vision, she breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing only one photographer inside. Just one camera to dodge the rest of the night. That shouldn't be too hard.

The photographer was sly, however, and clearly experienced at weaving through crowds unnoticed. Selina heard the telltale "click" of the shutter one second too late. Oh well, she mused. What's one more?

Mercifully, a familiar pair of faces soon appeared: Clark and Lois. Recognizing the acute self-consciousness the Waynes must be feeling, the Kents strategically positioned themselves to block any further photo ops.

"You two look amazing," Lois grinned, hugging them both. "I'm so glad you both made it!"

"Me too," Clark smirked. "This is the first time Lois dragged me to this. I doubt I'd last long without you guys here."

Selina laughed. "We'll keep you sane if you'll do the same for us. I think I got macular degeneration from walking that red carpet!"

"Pretty brutal," Lois sagely agreed. "We'll do our best to keep them away in here."

No sooner had Lois said this when a short, bright-eyed man tapped Bruce on the shoulder. "Excuse me, Mr. Wayne? Do you have a moment?"

"Hey, you know what, buddy?" Clark feigned a threatening tone. "They just got here. Maybe you could leave them alone for a while–"

Bruce held up a hand. "Clark, it's all right. This is Martin Dwyer, he organizes the ball each year," he explained.

"Oh. My apologies," Clark retreated.

Excusing himself, Bruce followed Martin behind the presenter's stage. "Probably going over tonight's order of events," guessed Selina. "Bruce always gives a speech at the end. Biggest donor, you know."

The Kents smiled and nodded, but there was clearly something on their minds. Selina glanced between them hesitantly.

"Selina, how is Bruce now that he's home?" Lois carefully asked.

"Fine," Selina responded. "He sleeps well, which is better than Dr. Filger expected. He's back at Wayne Enterprises. Not full eight-hour days yet, but maybe next week."

Lois nodded. "That's good to hear."

"How's his memory?" Clark blurted out, earning a reproving look from Lois. "Anything new?"

Selina thought a moment, slowly shaking her head. "I don't think so. Two days before he was discharged, he finally remembered our wedding. But that's been it since."

"That's too bad," Clark crossed his arms. "We were really hoping he might remember that night in Metropolis. The Wayne Enterprises Conference, what happened on the way to our place, in the alley."

"It'll probably be the last thing he remembers, since it was the last thing that happened to him," reasoned Lois. "But that's not all we're concerned about, Selina. How has Bruce been with… baby preparations?"

Selina blinked. "Um, Alfred and I got everything ready before he came home, so there's really not much left to do."

"You mean the nursery, car seat, things like that?"

"Yes…"

Lois glanced uneasily at Clark. "That's great, but… how about his mental preparation?"

It only took a second for Selina to realize what the Kents were getting at. "He's been a little distracted, but we'll be spending next weekend at the lake cottage. He says we'll talk through everything on the babymoon."

"Good," Lois said sincerely. "I'm very glad to hear that, Selina. And in the meantime, if there's anything you need from me or Clark, just let us know."

The remainder of the evening was tolerable enough, with good food and music to ease the strain of banal elbow-rubbing with public figures. Selina allowed herself to enjoy the (glare-free) attention of Bruce's admirers, who had somehow doubled in number since his coma.

There was a fair amount of unwelcome belly-touching from those admirers, but Selina followed Bruce's lead of being gracious no matter the gaffe. Bruce, for his part, beamed with increasing pride as all congratulated them. How could anyone resist an endless litany of well-wishes and joyful smiles? There seemed to be an understanding that this year's gala wasn't for the police department's benefit, but for Bruce and Selina Wayne's.

Blinded by the onslaught of cheer, Bruce didn't notice that not everyone was celebrating their good fortune. A number of sullen faces watched them from the shadows, glowering.

One pair of eyes burned particularly green with envy. They stared all night, barely blinking, simmering with intense rage. Bruce remained blissfully unaware of this anti-admirer as he spoke with Commissioner Gordon near the end of the event.

"Bruce, I've been trying to talk to you all night!" Jim embraced him. "That crowd around you has been a solid wall!"

"That it has," laughed Bruce.

"I can't tell you how good it is to see you back in one piece again."

"The feeling is mutual."

Jim stood back, pleased to finally have the man of the hour's undivided attention. "So it's true, then? You and Selina are expecting?"

Bruce glanced over at his wife, who was surrounded by her own group of devotees. "We are. Twins, in fact."

"I thought I heard that part, but you never know which rumors are true and which are exaggerated."

"Well, it's true."

"Wow. Bruce Wayne… a father."

Bruce caught his meaning. Batman… a father. "Don't forget, I'm already Dick's father."

"Yes, but he came to you half-grown and ready to jump into your lifestyle. Babies won't be so easy."

"It's going to take some adjustments. Just as it would for anyone."

"I'm not so sure about that. I doubt most would consider you the same as 'anyone,'" Jim countered.

"Point taken," Bruce acknowledged. "So what do you want me to say?"

Jim leaned in closer, dropping his voice. "I need to know that in two months, my city will still have the protector it's had for the past ten years."

It felt like a punch in the stomach. Having the Commissioner question Batman's commitment, his loyalty… it stung. Especially after a night full of accolades. The contrast was like pouring boiling water over frost-bitten hands.

"Jim, I… I don't know…"

A buzzing sound suddenly came from Jim's pocket. He didn't need to check; he recognized that alarm tone in his sleep. "Bruce, care to step outside for a quick breath of fresh air?"

Bruce looked uncertainly toward Selina. Her head was tilted back in teeth-baring laughter. He decided not to interrupt her.

"All right," he consented, sensing Jim was up to something.

Stepping out onto a broad, canopied terrace behind the building, Bruce inhaled deeply. The air was indeed fresh, and the change of scenery a welcome respite. Jim stood keenly at his side, looking thoughtfully into the dark.

"Bruce, don't get me wrong. I'm as happy for you and Selina as anyone else. But you've got to keep a clear head," Jim counseled. "Think of it in numbers. How many people will benefit from you continuing as Batman? How many will suffer if you don't?"

Bruce certainly didn't need Jim to highlight such things. He'd already done the math over and over in his hospital room, until he started seeing faces of random Gotham residents floating on the ceiling.

"I know twins are a handful, but there's no reason why you can't hire a nanny," Jim went on. "Selina's a capable woman. And besides, she knew what she was signing up for when she married you."

True. If having Batman retire was truly a deal-breaker for Selina, she should have insisted on a concrete timeframe before they married. Relationship counselors always advise settling major life issues in advance – and the Waynes didn't. So he wouldn't be violating any agreement by donning his Batman costume again, whether now or three months from now.

And as he and Jim peered up at the night sky, it soon became obvious that right now, he would wear it again. The Bat Signal illuminated the clouds, luring him like a moth to a flame.