The multiple tones of the door chimes resounded through Wayne Manor. Alfred, having answered the intercom buzz from the front gate, knew who was outside and opened the front door for Commissioner Gordon and a dozen police officers standing behind him.

"Commissioner," Alfred said in greeting. "I assume this is not a social call."

"I'm afraid not," Gordon denied. "I have a warrant to search the premises."

"What on Earth for?" Alfred asked as if he didn't already know what the police were looking for.

"We have reason to believe Wayne may be able to tell us the identity of Batman," Gordon stated flatly.

"I suppose you were bound to discover my secret sooner or later," Alfred said. "I'm Batman."

"Very funny," Gordon said dryly.

"Won't you please come in?" Alfred invited, stepping back to allow the officers of the law entrance into the palatial home.

"Be thorough but stay respectful," Gordon instructed his men. "Pretend you're searching your mother's house."

"I appreciate it," Bruce said from the top of the stairs. He descended to join the police in the spacious entryway.

"I'm sorry about this, Bruce," Gordon apologized. "You fit the profile of someone who could, possibly, be Batman."

"Don't worry about it, Jim," Bruce dismissed. "You've got a job to do and an investigation to conduct no matter where it may lead. I understand and I'm not taking it personally. Let's get this over with."

"You heard him," Gordon ordered his men. "Move!"

The police officers scattered to begin their search of the house.

"While we're waiting, would you care for some coffee?" Bruce asked.

"I suppose," Gordon agreed, running a hand uncomfortably through his full crop of white hair. He followed Bruce into the parlor while Alfred went to retrieve the coffee and serving tray.

The parlor had been designed to bask in the sunlight, but clearly the architect had never visited Gotham and beheld its cloud darkened skies. Even during the day, the sky was frequently overcast and gray. Sunny days in Gotham were a rare exception.

Easy chairs and a matching sofa of sky blue upholstery were arranged around a pine coffee table. Tan carpeting and wallpaper kept the room feeling bright even with the overcast skies outside.

As Bruce and Gordon sat down, Alfred entered carrying a silver serving tray and a steaming pot of coffee. The butler set the tray down on the table and poured each of the two men a cup full.

"Cream or sugar, sir?" Alfred asked.

"No, thank you," Gordon declined. He took the cup and saucer Alfred offered him.

Alfred automatically added the appropriate amounts of cream and sugar to Bruce's cup without needing to be told. When finished, Alfred handed over the cup to Bruce and withdrew from the room.

"You do know you made a mistake, right?" Bruce asked before taking a cautious sip of his drink.

"It wouldn't be the first time," Gordon replied. "Which mistake are you talking about?"

"This search," Bruce explained. "If I really am Batman, you've tipped your hand by announcing the investigation to your number one suspect. No wire taps or even covert surveillance were employed; you just come knocking at the front door with a warrant. You have to admit, there are more subtle ways to accomplish your objectives."

"True," Gordon agreed, taking a tentative sip of his steaming cup of coffee. "Unfortunately, we had to move fast as once word was announced to the press we were looking to arrest Batman, he'd probably start covering his tracks in an attempt to avoid being discovered should we look too closely in his direction. You're not the only suspect, and we had to move fast on the searches to prevent evidence from being disposed of or compromised."

"Don't take this the wrong way," Bruce said carefully, "but I hope you don't find what you're looking for at my house."

"Yeah. I hope I don't find it here either," Gordon agreed.

The two men drank their coffee in silence while the officers conducted a complete search of the house. After ten minutes, one of the cops entered the parlor to make a report.

"Find anything?" Gordon asked.

"Just this," the officer reported, handing over a small frame of varnished wood.

"What's this?" Gordon asked. He held the frame out for Bruce to see the batarang mounted behind the glass.

"Do you remember the charity dinner six years ago at the Apex Corporation?" Bruce asked. "The Joker tried to rob the place and Batman stopped him. I found that during the cleanup and thought it made an appropriate memento."

Gordon's phone trilled softly and he pulled it out of his pocket and answered the call.

"Yeah," Gordon said into the phone. "What? Alright. Get the task force moving there, and I want helicopter support and SWAT."

Gordon ended the call and put away the phone. "We've a bank robbery across town. Batman is there now, attacking the thieves. Bruce, I uh...,"

Gordon trailed off as he didn't know how to apologize for having his men dig around the house of an innocent man.

"You better get going if you want to catch Batman," Bruce urged. He nodded slightly to Gordon, letting his friend know he held no ill feelings toward him. Gordon smiled behind his mustache, clearly relieved he hadn't found anything.

As he turned to leave, Gordon noticed Damien leaning against the doorframe and munching on an apple.

"Come back when you can stay longer," Damien joked as the police filed out of the room and departed from the manor.

***

"Wasn't that a bit risky having the batarang on display, Master Bruce?" Alfred questioned after they'd retreated to the Batcave where they were certain no listening devices had been planted by the cops during the search.

"No," Bruce denied. "Just a souvenir of yet another person saved by Batman. After all, how can Batman have saved me if I am Batman?"

"Nice, but how did another Batman show up?" Damien asked before it dawned on him. "Grandfather."

"I called Ra's and asked him to send in one of his assassins disguised as Batman," Bruce explained. "I needed one of the same height and build, and since Ra's trained me, the fighting style should be close enough if anyone gets video footage of him in action."

"Any intention of laying low, Master Bruce?" Alfred inquired.

"It might not be a bad idea," Bruce agreed. "But, I will need to keep an eye on the League's activity in Gotham. If 'Batman' does something and I don't remember it, it could cause unwanted questions about the possibility of a double. Furthermore, murderers and rapists are the only ones I've authorized them to eliminate, and I want to be certain the League doesn't go too far and expand the list to include other kinds of criminals."

***

Bruce was sitting in the library, reading a police file about the Batman investigation. Gordon hadn't authorized Bruce to have the file, but Bruce hadn't asked to borrow it.

"Master Bruce," Alfred said as he entered with an envelope in his hand. "I hate to intrude, but this came in the mail."

When Bruce saw his handwritten name on the outside, he tore into the envelope and extracted the letter housed within. He recognized Talia's handwriting, and he could almost hear her voice as he silently read her words.

"Beloved, it is with greatest sorrow I am compelled to write this to you. I have long since beheld the troubles in Gotham and how they have grown with each passing year. Although the thought of losing you lingers in the back of my mind every time you go out to face the criminals of Gotham, a fear more common to me is all your years of sacrifice will have done nothing to help your city in the grand scheme of things.

I know what it would take to make Gotham pure again, but since you have so far been unwilling to take the necessary steps, I am forced to do what I must to give you a push in the right direction.

I know it will be hard on you and Damien, but rely on each other and my absence should be easier to bear. I love you both desperately, and it wrings my heart to think of the pain I am about to cause you, but know I have only your best interests in mind. Perhaps, in time, you may find it in your hearts to forgive me.

With all my love, Talia."

Some of the ink became blurred as Bruce's tears fell upon the page.