Unfortunately, I do not own Justice League (Unlimited), or any of the characters. (So disappointing, I know.) Those belong to DC and Warner Brothers. I only own the plot.

Takes place after the end of JLU.

"Stay down," Superman ordered to the group of tied up rogues. The founding members had just finished a lengthy battle with Giganta, Killer Frost, Copperhead, Shade, Star Sapphire, Sinestro, and Tsukuri, and were now waiting for the police to take the villains away.

"Thanks, Justice League," one cop said as they hauled the criminals into the back of a van waiting to take them back to the penitentiary for super villains.

After watching them drive away, Superman contacted the Watchtower. "Mr Terrific, seven for transport." Moments later, the group of exhausted heroes stepped off the transporter pad. The founding members were all a bit battered and bruised, and ready to get some rest. Well, all but one.

Despite having at least three bruised, if not cracked, ribs and what was very likely a concussion, not to mention various other scrapes and bruises gathered during the fight, Batman was already on his way to the hangar where the Batwing was waiting to take him back down to Gotham.

The remaining six founders shook their heads as they watched him leave, already knowing he was going out on patrol.

As they started in the direction of the infirmary, they stayed quiet, each lost in their own thoughts. Well, until Flash broke the silence.

"Well, the bad guys are in jail, none of us are scraped up too badly, and there was little damage done in the end. I'd say we had a really good day."

Diana smiled softly. "Yeah, I'd say so, too."

Shayera yawned. "You guys hear that? I'm pretty sure my bed is calling my name."

The others laughed. "Your bed can wait until you get your arm taken care of," John teased with a smile.

Rather than a sharp retort, she simply nodded. Her hand reached out until it came in contact with his, fingers intertwining. She rested her head on his shoulder and nearly fell asleep right then and there with the comfort and safety of using her lover's shoulder as a pillow.

The others didn't comment. After all those two had been through, they deserved to be happy, and sometimes that came in the form of a simple hand hold with nothing said.

Diana, however, watched the situation with a combination of longing, jealousy, and wistfulness. She wished for such a relationship of her own, preferably with the one absent founder. Unfortunately for her, he didn't seem interested, only allowing himself to feel friendship towards her. While she longed for something more, she was an Amazon warrior. She would not sit and pine after a man, no matter how much she wished he would do something about the mutual attraction between them. Her pride would not see her reduced to that. So, she pushed her feelings for the Dark Knight down, forcing herself to return to reality.

As they neared their destination, Wally yawned as well. He laughed as he said, "You sure that's your bed, Shayera? Could've sworn it's mine."

That sparked another round of laughter from the tired heroes. "We're all tired," Clark pointed out. "I think all of us are going to sleep until noon after this."

"Noon? Try mid-afternoon!" Shayera contradicted, gaining a few more chuckles of agreement.

"We're here," J'onn said as they approached the medical bay.

After getting their wounds cleaned and bandaged, the six remaining founders wearily headed toward the wing holding their personal quarters. Bidding each other goodnight, they all drifted off to sleep (or entered a meditative state in J'onn's case).

Despite the jokes of sleeping in super late, all six rose only a little later than usual. What greeted them once they left their quarters, none of them expected.

At first, the trip to the commissary to get some breakfast wasn't that unusual. Leaguers and staff alike littered the halls, some talking in a small group while others were on the move. However, once they sat down to eat, things weren't quite... normal — as normal as an organization of superheroes could get, that is. The atmosphere seemed to instantly shift around them.

"Do you guys feel that?" Clark asked.

Wally, who was busy shoving his face, looked up. "Feel what?"

Diana tilted her head, contemplating something. "The energy around here feels different. Almost," she paused, trying to decipher what it was that wasn't quite right, "magical."

"I feel it, too," Shayera whispered. "I wasn't going to mention it, since I thought it was nothing, but my mace has been sparking every now and then. If there's really magic here, that might be why. It was design to disrupt it, after all."

J'onn's eyes glowed. "I sense confusion. Not from in here, though. It stems from the transporter room."

John frowned. "Maybe whatever's behind that is causing this... disturbance."

Wally grinned. "In the Force," he added, not about to let an opportunity slip by. He, of course, received a confused look from Diana, no response from J'onn, and eye rolls from the others.

John sighed. "This isn't Star Wars, Wally. Come on, let's find out what's going on."

Just then, Zatanna entered the room, her eyes scanning the sea of people. Landing on the founders, she walked over. Her brows were knit together, a frown on her face. Approaching them, she stopped at the table, but didn't sit down. "We have a situation in the transporter room. You might want to see this."

Looking at each other as their suspicions were confirmed, they stood and followed the magician back out of the commissary. No one said a word until they arrived. Making their way through the wall of people, the founders and Zatanna saw what was the source of all the commotion.

The group — minus Zatanna — were shocked and confused as their eyes fell on the transporter pad. Much to their surprise, standing stationary and staring back at them with wide blue eyes was a black and grey... kitten?

It wasn't often that Bruce woke up to an exclamation of surprise, but today was certainly one of those days. Reluctantly, Bruce cracked open one of his eyes to see who dared to wake him, and was met with the sight of a young teenager's face with wide eyes and a grin to match. There was a mop of black hair on top of the boy's head, one that Bruce knew well. He sighed as he recognized his unwanted alarm clock. Tim.

He had hoped that the spot he was sleeping in was in a dark enough corner to stay hidden, but apparently he had been wrong. He soon found himself rising in the air, coming face to face with his young ward, who was still grinning from ear to ear.

"Where did you come from?" he asked. He lowered the now very perturbed kitten into his arms, holding him cradled against his chest. Tim started petting the furry animal, who looked up at him and glared. He laughed. "Maybe Bruce brought you home. You have the same glare."

Bruce continued glaring at the thirteen year old. He narrowed his eyes and his ears pressed into the back of his head. Tim didn't notice. He was already racing up the stairs to the manor, taking a now quite perturbed Bruce with him.

"Alfred! Alfred! Look what I found in the cave!" the young teen shouted as he burst through the doorway. He raced towards the kitchen where he found Alfred making breakfast.

"Master Timothy, it is not proper to yell and run inside the house," he chided as he stirred the eggs.

Tim smiled bashfully. "Sorry, Alfred." The shyness quickly disappeared, being replaced by a grin. "But look what I found!"

Alfred turned his head to see what the fuss was about. He remained stoic, but he managed a small smile when he saw a fluffy black and grey kitten cradled in Tim's arms. "I see. And where pray tell did you find a kitten?"

Tim was scratching behind the kitten's ears. "He was down by the computer in the Batcave. Found him curled up in the corner." He paused, lost in thought before laughing. "Do you think Bruce brought him home?" The kitten raised his head and stared at Tim. He, of course, found this hilarious. With another laugh, he looked back at Alfred. "He's glaring at me. Certainly reminds me of Bruce."

Alfred's gaze turned playfully stern. "Now, Master Timothy, it is not polite to compare people to animals." His tone was lacking of all emotion, ever the stoic, but his eyes showed the humour behind the words. Glancing down at the kitten again, he whispered, "Though between you and me, he does resemble Master Bruce with his stern glare, although it is highly unlikely he brought him to the manor."

Tim laughed as the kitten growled slightly, but showed no intent to harm him, almost as if he was replying to Alfred's comment.

The butler turned back to his cooking. "Master Timothy, go wash up and inform Master Bruce that breakfast will be served shortly."

Tim placed the kitten down, then darted off to do as he was told.

Alfred turned to the kitten, who sat on the floor looking up at him. The elderly man remained unfazed as the the small animal continued to watch him as he got out a bowl from the cabinet and the milk from the refrigerator. After filling the bowl, he set it down. "Can't have you starve while you stay here, and I'm afraid we are fresh out of cat food."

The kitten walked to the bowl only to pass it, instead heading into the dining room. Alfred watched him go, shaking his head as he began to serve two plates of pancakes, eggs, bacon, and toast. He pulled a glass and a mug, filling the former with orange juice and the latter with coffee. He put everything onto two trays, covering them with dome shaped silver lids.

Carrying the dishes into the dining room, Alfred noted with amusement that the kitten had managed to jump onto the chair at the head of the table. He placed one tray in front of the kitten and the other before the chair next to it. He then watched as the kitten sniffed the food before looking up at him.

Alfred shook his head before picking up the feline. "I don't believe Master Bruce would be pleased to find you in his seat, especially before he's had his first cup of coffee." He turned back to the kitchen, placing the kitten in front of the previously ignored bowl of milk, only for him to dart back into the dining room. He used a lower cross bar on the chair to leap back onto the seat he had claimed before, staring back at Alfred with a defiant and stubborn look in his eye.

Alfred sighed. "I'm not entirely sure whether you are brave or not that bright, but heaven help you when you meet a decaffeinated Bruce."

At that moment, Tim came running into the room. "Alfred! I don't think Bruce came home from patrol last night!" he panted with worry written all over his face, a worry Alfred understood all too well. Whenever Batman went out on patrol, it was difficult not knowing if something was going to happen one night, and he would never make it back home. The fear only intensified whenever he failed to return, making those who cared about him hope that that night was not his last.

Despite his own panic, Alfred tried to comfort the boy in front of him. "Master Timothy," he addressed the early teen, placing a hand oon his shoulder, "I'm sure he's around here somewhere. Maybe he's down in that cave of his."

From behind the two, a small noise came from the kitten, but went unnoticed.

Tim shook his head. "I checked there. The Batmobile's gone, and he's nowhere to be found! I even used the 'computer to track his location and nothing came up, and the Batmobile had been stationary for most of the night!" He plopped himself down into his chair, resting his head on his hand. "Where is he?" he asked to no one in particular.

Once again, the kitten made a noise that sounded like a cross between a growl, purr, and a sneeze. This time, both people in the room turned to him.

Tim dropped his hand to the table as he cocked his head to the side. "You know, it's kinda funny, but I feel like this kitten has something to do with Bruce going MIA."

The kitten, much to Alfred and Tim's surprise, jerked his head in a nodding motion.

Okay... that's at least a start, Bruce thought as he watched the shocked expressions on his companions' faces (Tim's at least, Alfred was still as stoic as ever). Now I've got to somehow tell them exactly how I'm involved with my own disappearance. He mentally shook his head at the thought. The random things he never thought he would say... or think, for that matter. Not for the last time, he cursed the witch who got him into this mess in the first place.

"So, you know what happened to Bruce?" Tim asked cautiously. He was obviously a bit bewildered that Bruce had understood him.

Batman once again nodded his head.

"What happened?"

He stared at Tim. Um, hello? I can't exactly talk anymore! He shook his head, frustrated at the lack of being able to communicate.

Fortunately, Tim understood. "Oh, right. You're a kitten." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Sorry, I guess I was just so worried about Bruce that I forgot you can't speak."

Bruce rolled his eyes as best as he could at the moment. How the hell am I supposed to tell them who I am? he wondered. He looked around the room trying to find anything that might help or give him an idea, but came up empty-handed — er... pawed.

My best bet will be communicating via writing. He again sighed frustratedly as he remembered. Except I can't exactly write anything down seeing as I no longer possess opposable thumbs. Dammit.

Suddenly, an idea hit him. I may not be able to write, but my paws are probably small enough to hit a single key on a keyboard. I might be able to type out a message. It's going to be tricky, considering I couldn't reach it last night, but I'll think of something. Anyway, it's my best chance. Hopefully this'll work.

With that in mind, he jumped off from his perch on the chair, and raced out of the room. Luckily, he heard Alfred and Tim following. He didn't stop running until he was in front of the grandfather clock hiding the entrance to the Batcave. He paused at the base, looking back at his companions.

Tim stepped forward and turned the hands of the clock. Once the entrance was revealed, Bruce ran down the stairs. Unfortunately, he was not yet accustomed to two things: the possession of a tail, and the size of the now giant steps. In a humiliating display, he quickly found himself tripping over the offending limb and tumbling down the stairs in his haste. He was followed by the sounds of laughter as he picked himself up off the floor, refusing to turn around and acknowledge what just happened. His bruised pride wouldn't allow it.

Instead, he headed to the supercomputer opposite him. He examined his chair, looking for a way to jump onto it. He knew cats could jump incredibly well, but he was rather small — even for a kitten — and was not used to being in his new body. He didn't quite have the necessary coordination required to make such impressive leaps. He frowned as he realized there was no cross bar near the bottom of the chair to aide him like the chairs in the dining room.

He tried leaping straight into the seat, only to fall short. Feeling a bit frustrated, he stamped one of his front paws on the floor.

"Need help?" Tim asked, picking him up and placing him on the chair. As he began to stroke the fur on his back, Bruce turned and glared.

Stop touching me. And I could've found a way up here myself. I don't need your help.

Tim slowly retracted his hand, and watched as Bruce jumped from the chair onto the desk-like space in front of the computer. Batman walked around, pressing the necessary buttons to turn the machine on.

"Woah! He's a smart kitten," he heard Tim whisper. Rolling his eyes, he walked over to the rest of the keyboard. Pausing, he considered how he was to proceed. Deciding to pull up a blank document and go from there, he carefully maneuvered his body in order to press the correct sequence of keys. Fortunately, he didn't lose his balance and fall, most likely the doing of his new tail.

Pressing the final key, a fresh document appeared on the screen, waiting to be used.

"What are you doing?" Tim asked.

Bruce ignored him, once again positioning himself just right. He reached out and landed on the "I" key. He cursed as he realized that using apostrophes was out of the question, meaning he couldn't type contractions. Great. Just great. He also realized the same would go for capital letters, even though that was tolerable. That didn't mean extra work.

"I believe he is trying to communicate with us using the keyboard, Master Timothy," Alfred concluded as they watched the kitten cautiously push key after key.

Bruce concentrated on his work, or at least tried to. Unfortunately, as he was getting ready to press "N", he slipped and landed on the keyboard, causing a bunch of gibberish to appear onscreen. Cursing under his breath, he picked himself up and pushed the "DELETE" button, erasing his error.

After several more minutes of key-pressing, along with a few more fumbles, Bruce finally had his message displayed for his butler and ward to read. i am not a real kitten. i am batman. i was turned into a kitten by a witch last night on patrol. if you would send me to the watchtower, i can get assistance tracking her down and reversing this.

Tim's eyes grew wide. "Bruce?" He stared at the kitten, who was now watching them for a reaction. The teen burst out laughing.

Bruce narrowed his eyes and growled, irritated by his behavior. This isn't funny, Tim! And I'd like to fix this as soon as possible, so if you would simply follow my instruction, we can start getting me back to normal!

Fortunately, the outburst didn't last long. "Sorry, I couldn't resist." Seeing the look on his mentor's furry face, he did his best to appear sheepish and to not crack up again. "Right. Send you to the Watchtower."

As Tim left to ready the transporters, Alfred turned to Bruce. "I suppose I shall come up with an excuse for Mr. Fox about your absence." With that, he turned and left for the flight of stairs leading back up to the manor.

Tim returned, picking up Bruce, who immediately squirmed out of his arms. I don't like being carried! Visions of an Amazon princess holding him flitted through his mind. Well, maybe... Nope. Not gonna go there.

"Ok, transporter's all set." Tim led Bruce to the transporters. The kitten stepped onto the pad, and nodded for his ward to start it up.

Apparently, transporters and kitten bodies don't make the best combinations. What normally was a quick, painless experience was suddenly filled with hurt, seeming to last forever. Every part of his body ached, his head throbbing.

Finally, he arrived at his destination. On wobbly legs, he stood on the platform, the world spinning around him. He was going to be sick. The bright lights of the Watchtower did nothing to help his condition. He unsteadily tried to take a few steps. Wrong move. The world wasn't just spinning now. It was a blur of dizziness, which definitely did not help his nausea. Bruce shut his eyes to make the sensations disappear, taking deep breaths. A few moments later, he noticed the buzz of sound all around him. The murmuring of excited and confused voices. He opened his eyes, blinking rapidly to clear them.

He was met with the sight of various league members staring at him, probably wondering why a kitten was just transported up to the Watchtower. I need to find the other founders. As he was about to step off the platform, seven familiar figures burst through the door. Well, that was easy, he thought as he watched the very people he was setting out to find appear right in front of him, with the addition of Zatanna. Maybe she can provide some assistance.

Bruce watched his teammates' confused stares at him. "A kitten?" Wally asked. "Why is a kitten such a big deal? I mean don't get me wrong, I love cats, and I'm confused why he's here, but how's he behind the mysterious feeling here?"

Bruce shook his head. Boy, do I have a story to tell you.

Yeah... starting a multi chapter fic right when the rush for UIL in band and choir, Solo and Ensemble, and the preparation for standardized tests is about to start... probably wasn't the best idea I've ever had. Oops. I really enjoyed reading your reviews. They're what pushed me to write this chapter amidst the craziness of my life right now. You guys are awesome!

So, this was my first time writing some of these characters (namely Alfred and Tim). I hope I kinda sorta got them close to character. And I made the chapter longer! Yay!

Man, I need to stop the long author's notes. Anyway, let me know what you think! Reviews help me to write. They push me forward. Constructive criticism is welcome, as long as it's actually constructive.

Well, hope you enjoyed! See you next time I update (a million years from now). Bye!