Wayne Manor. That was a fitting name. The Wayne Estate or The Wayne Villa just didn't echo the mood of the house. It was a huge pillared mansion surrounded by a brick wall. She drove her old, rusty Chevy up the driveway and parked in front of the house. She considered telling him that her Jaguar was in the shop, but that would be dishonest and she wasn't there to impress him.
She glanced down at her white cotton dress. It was old and fairly loose on her, but she felt that she'd accessorized it as well as was possible and, again, she wasn't there to impress him. The door was answered by a kindly looking old gentleman in a black suit.
"Hi, I'm Emma Bryant. Um, I'm here to see Mr. Wayne."
"Yes, he's been expecting you. Please, come in." She stepped into the huge foyer area. A large chandelier hung down and there were rooms to either side. It certainly wasn't one of those houses that just appeared big from the outside. The gentleman lead her to a room on the left, apparently a living room. She took a seat on the plush black sofa. "Master Wayne will be down in a moment, Miss." Master Wayne. Weird.
She looked around the room. Fresh red roses were on the coffee table, but other than that, the room was attractively sparsely decorated. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a figure pass the doorway. A few seconds later a teenage boy poked his head in the room.
"Hello," he said, sauntering into the room. She noticed his short blond hair and the small earring in his left ear. She had no idea who he was. "Dick Grayson," he spoke, extending his hand. "And who might you be, gorgeous?"
"Emma Bryant."
"What? No Lt.?" She looked up to see Bruce Wayne in the doorway. He was followed by the old gentleman.
"Two different people, Mr. Wayne. Emma Bryant and Lt. Emma Bryant."
"Interesting thought." There was a strange tone in his voice when he said that and he exchanged glances with the boy. "Haven't we corrected that 'Mr. Wayne' thing yet?"
"I'm sorry. I seem to be having some trouble with that." He smiled as if he understood and put a hand on the boy's back.
"I see you've met Dick." She nodded, smiling at the boy who winked back. "And this," he said motioning to the gentleman. "Is Alfred."
"Nice to meet you, Alfred," she said, shaking his hand.
"And you, Miss," he replied politely. He seemed like such a nice man. Both he and Dick. She liked them already. "Well, Master Dick and I have some things to attend to so, we'll leave you two alone." Alfred started walking toward the door and then noticed he was alone. "Master Dick," he pressed. "Dinner will be ready in ten minutes, Sir."
"See ya later," Dick said, before trotting to join Alfred. Alfred smiled apologetically and shut the door behind him and Dick.
"You'll have to excuse Dick. He tends to act like he's never seen a beautiful woman before."
"That's all right. I don't get treated like that very often. It wasn't so bad." Bruce sat down next to her, making sure to leave a comfortable amount of space between them. He was wearing all black, black slacks, a black turtleneck and a black suit coat. He looked great. She had no idea how he could stand it in that suit coat. She was burning up in her short-sleeved dress.
"So you're two different people?"
"I think so. One during the day, at work, and one at night. I know that sounds crazy, but it really feels that way."
"It doesn't sound all that crazy." There was that tone of voice again. It was like when someone tells an inside joke that she didn't know about.
"What about you? Is Bruce Wayne two different people?"
"Oh, I think everybody is. Do you like tomato soup?"
"Uh, yeah," she replied, somewhat puzzled.
"I just wanted to make sure. Alfred's making it as an appetizer."
"I like it a lot."
"Good." She shook her head slightly. That was odd.
"Uh, is Dick your cousin?"
"Dick? No. He's no relation. Just a friend. His parents died a few years ago and I took him in."
"That's so nice of you. So few people care about the youth of this city. That's why so many of them are out on the streets committing crimes."
"Now that sounded like Lt. Bryant," he said as if scolding her.
"I'm sorry. I just get so worked up over these things. I can't help it."
"That's all right. I understand." She, for the second time since they'd met, felt his attention solely on her, but this time it wasn't so unnerving. He was such a compelling man. She couldn't explain it.
"This is a beautiful house."
"Thank you. I've lived here all my life."
"Really? This would be a great place to be as a kid."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, kids love to run around hiding in places and making up fantastical stories and this house is great for both."
"Do you like kids, Emma?" He leaned his head against his propped-up fist and relaxed a bit.
"Yeah, don't you?"
"I don't know. I've never had any. I think I like them." She laughed and felt herself relax as well.
"My mother ran a day-care center and I was always there helping out. And I had three little brothers that I helped raise or at least I like to think I did." Bruce smiled. "What about you, Bruce? Any brothers or sisters?"
"No, I'm an only child."
"Don't you ever get lonely?" she asked, thinking of the siblings that were her best friends. Bruce just seemed to stare off for a moment before he brought his eyes back to hers.
"Yeah, I do." She had this overwhelming urge to cure him of that. There was a knock at the door and Alfred peered inside.
"Dinner is served," he announced, just like the line from all those old movies. Bruce stood and held out his hand. She took his hand and stood up to follow. He led her to a large, elaborately set dining room.
Together with Dick and Alfred, they ate a wonderful meal. And, of course, no meal is perfect without good dinner conversation and there was plenty of that. "Well, I think I'm going to retire for the evening," Alfred informed as Bruce helped her on with her coat. "Please leave the dishes. I'll tidy up in the morning. It was delightful meeting you, Miss."
"You too. Good night, Alfred," she replied, resisting the urge to hug the man.
"Yeah, I think I'll head to bed, too," Dick chimed in, stretching. "See you tomorrow, Bruce. Good night, Emma," he said with a wink.
"Good night, Dick." He raised his eyebrows up and down quickly as he jogged up the stairs. "They're really great."
"Yeah, they are. Ah, would you like to have lunch tomorrow?"
"I'd love to, but I have to work double tomorrow, right through lunch. But if you call me maybe we can set something up," she suggested.
"Okay, I'll call." He opened the front door for her and walked with her onto the large front porch. "May I ask Emma a question about the Lt.?" She nodded. "Why did Lt. Bryant become a police officer?" She felt her smile fade. Bruce tensed, but she could tell he wasn't going to withdraw the question, which he didn't have to.
"One of my little brothers was paralyzed by this guy who wanted his wallet. I guess I just didn't want to see that happen to anyone else. I know that doesn't make sense, but-"
"No," Bruce interrupted. "It makes perfect sense." Suddenly, he pulled a beautiful red rose from behind his back. Smiling helplessly, she accepted the rose from him.
"Good night, Bruce. I had a wonderful time." He looked into her eyes. Slowly, he leaned forward and kissed her. She smiled, brushing the rose against her chin.
She walked into her little apartment still thinking about the dinner. Or was it a date? she wasn't sure. She padded softly over to the window. Gotham looked so beautiful at night, especially from high up. No human eye could see well enough to see down to the ugliness of the city.
With a flash of light, a spotlight broke through the night sky. The Bat-signal. She stared at it for a moment. Then she ran into her bedroom and pulled on her blue-jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. She grabbed her car keys and ran out of the building to her car.
Whatever was happening, it was most likely happening near Crime Alley so, she steered her car in the direction of downtown Gotham. She passed the police department and her motivation began to fade. Just then a sleek black car rocketed in front of her on the cross street. She doubted it was the test run of the new squad car and turned her car to follow.
She went as fast as the car would allow and she still saw the black car getting farther and farther ahead. Then, suddenly, it pulled to a dead stop. She pressed on her brakes and came to stop nearly fifty yards from the car. She crouched down, peering over her dashboard as part of the black car slid forward and a black clad caped figure stepped out. She caught her breath. It was Batman.
He walked purposefully into the jewelry store, Gotham's Jewels. She reached in her glove compartment and pulled out the revolver she hardly ever used. She climbed out of her car and ran to follow. She peered in the door and saw Batman approaching some unsuspecting criminals. She noticed the stairs to her right that led to a catwalk above the thugs.
Quietly, she climbed the stairs, careful to stay just out of both Batman's and the thugs' range of view. Batman crept along in the shadows, his black suit making him nearly invisible. One of the thugs looked up from the jewels he was scooping into a bag.
"Ay, ay, you guys hear something?" The others fell silent and listened.
"Nah, you're just hearing stuff," another replied, sounding frightened. "Uh, let's call the boss and get out of here." The others agreed and then, suddenly, they froze. Slowly, they turned around. Batman, his cape held out wide making him look truly like a giant bat, was directly behind them.
As the fight commenced, she watched from above hardly believing she was seeing the Batman in action. A lot of the officers down at the department thought Batman was a lunatic. And they thought the same of Commissioner Gordon whenever he resorted to using that Bat-signal. They all had their theory on why Batman did what he did. And no one had had the chance to catch him.
One of the thugs danced toward Batman wielding a switchblade in each hand. Batman jumped, kicking the thug in the chin, sending them both to the ground. She saw her chance. She leapt down from the catwalk and had her revolver trained on the man in black before he could get up.
"Don't move," she ordered, holding the gun as steadily as possible. She put her foot on his chest, feeling the strong body armor. She kept the gun pointed at his head, assuming it was the only vulnerable part on his body. She glanced at the unconscious thugs around her and became painfully aware of how easily this man could seriously harm her. "You know, there's still a lot of debate at the department whether you're really on our side or not."
His eyes stared at her through the narrow eye slits. "What do you think?" he asked in a deep voice totally devoid of emotion.
She paused for a moment looking at the masked figure. She sighed and slid her gun in the holster at her hip. Removing her foot from his chest she offered her hand. His black gloved hand clasped hers and she helped pull him from the ground.
"Thank you," he said in that same voice. He began walking toward the door of the building. "Who are you?"
"Lt. Emma Bryant, Gotham PD," she replied, not reaching for her badge, which had become a habit of late.
"And why are you here, Lt.?" He looked directly at her, seeming to look inside her. She opened her mouth to give a response she didn't have. Glancing out the windows, she noticed several cars parked outside. Men were coming toward the door.
"Looks like we've got company."
"I can handle this, Lt. You stay over there and try not to get hurt." He pushed her toward a dark side of the room. She obeyed and crouched behind a glass display case in the dark corner.
In a matter of seconds the door had been kicked down and thugs were converging from seemingly every side on the lone man in the room. Their fighting skills were pathetic, but their sheer numbers put Batman at a disadvantage and he soon found himself restrained by five of the men.
With a cackle, the "boss" walked into the light. His face was mime white and his hair was bright green, but what sent chills through her was his evil grin. "Call the exterminator, boys," the man said in a whimsical voice. "We seem to have bats. Take him outside."
She followed far behind as they dragged Batman out the other side of the building to the crowded wharf by Gotham Bay. A crowd instantly formed around them. She managed to stay low and out of sight, crouching along the ground as the man with the maniacal grin began the theatrics. "Ladies and gentlemen of Gotham, I present to you . . . the Bat." He presented Batman with a sweeping of his arm. "But I suggest you all keep your distance lest you get showered with the Bat bits."
One of his thugs brought forward a large suitcase. The "boss" opened it, exposing the sticks of dynamite, delighting in the gasp of the crowd. Instantly, everyone began to run, leaving them alone in seconds. She stayed crouched in a shadow and hopefully out of view. "In case you can't tell, I'm back. And since you've killed me twice, I thought I'd repay the favor at least once." He set the timer on the bomb for three minutes and some of the thugs dragged Batman out.
As they strapped him to the suitcase, she noticed the electronic handcuffs binding his gloved hands. Part of her was envious. Those were state-of-the-art handcuffs. The police didn't even have those. The man with the insane leer started backing up toward his car. "Don't be mad, Batsy. If you've gotta go, go with a smile." He laughed hysterically as he climbed in the car and drove off.
She paused for a second before running out to the firmly restrained Batman. She glanced at the timer and tried to ignore the reading: 1min. 54sec. "Get yourself out of here, Lt.," he ordered angrily. She ignored him, untying the ropes that bound him. "You're going to get yourself killed. Get out of here."
She wished he would stop saying those things. She understood what she was risking, all too clearly, and he was making it difficult to forget. Again, she glanced at the timer and wished she hadn't: 40sec. She finally felt the knot give on the rope.
In seconds she had the rope up and off on him. He stood and tried to push the suitcase with his foot, barely budging it. She took it by the handle and dragged it toward the pier. The timer approached the final ten second countdown: 23sec. The suitcase was heavy, so heavy she wasn't sure she could do what she had in mind.
The final countdown began: 10sec.
She saw the dark waters of Gotham Bay below her. "Throw it!" he yelled from behind her. She used all the strength in her body and lifted the suitcase. She quickly spun around and sent the suitcase hurtling into the air. It got a few feet in the air and then the bomb detonated.