A/N: Usually I'm no fan of author's notes, but today I think I should say something about this story. It's the sequel to Knight's Dawn. If you haven't read that one yet I suggest you do in order to understand what our guys are talking about. I also want to take this opportunity to say thanks a lot to all of you who reviewed Knight's Dawn!

Oddly enough, this story also seems to be kind of a transition to my next fic…I never planned a sequel but hey, who am I to try and stop my muse? The next story will contain more action. I promise.

I had a very hard time writing this, but I wanted to tell it from Bruce's POV to understand how deeply everything has affected him. Well, you'll see if it worked. And now: enjoy!

Testing Boundaries

by immertreu

February 7, 2009

Batman hid in the shadow of the rooftop door, waiting. The sight of the wrecked spotlight on the MCU building, clearly visible in the bright moonlight, made his heart ache with loss and guilt. He'd known it would come to this the moment he told Gordon to call in backup at the burned-out warehouse, but it still hurt to look at the symbol of their broken alliance – at least as far as the public was concerned.

Batman had been there, that night one week ago, when Gordon was forced to destroy the bat signal. He had seen the pain in his ally's every movement when the axe hit the bat with a sickening crunch he could still hear three rooftops over, hidden in the shadows. Batman was sure Gordon had known he was there, somewhere in the dark, watching him fulfill the most difficult task of his entire career: condemning an innocent man, his ally – a friend.

It had taken three powerful blows to splinter the glass. Batman had admired Gordon for his strength – not for his physical power but for the will to do it himself. He could easily have asked someone else to swing the axe – one of the bulky rookies or any other of the strong detectives standing around – because his simple presence at the scene would have been enough. But Gordon was a man of honor who would never abdicate his responsibility. He destroyed his personal sign of hope with his own hands.

Batman had stayed until the deed was done, until the last of the officers left the scene and only Gordon remained in the dark, staring at the broken glass covering the ground, shoulders hunched in defeat as the relentless rain pounded down on him. He only left once Gordon, swaying a little from exhaustion or grief, made his way to the exit from the roof; Batman hadn't been able to tell which from that distance.

Everything that happened afterwards was a little fuzzy in Batman's mind. He'd gone to the bat cave and been stitched up by Alfred, who wasn't happy to learn that his charge had been running around with two broken ribs and a bullet in his chest for more than two hours. Alfred didn't scold him; he merely tended to his wounds and tried to make him eat, but Bruce had refused.

He vaguely remembered the long hours and days in the underground hall that followed, sitting on the floor, not really listening to his butler who tried to bring his master back to reality. Bruce still felt guilty about scaring his old friend half to death, but he also knew that Alfred understood. They'd had a long talk after the incident with Jim a few days ago.

Batman suddenly broke from his reverie, still standing in the same spot, looking out over the city and the roof of MCU. I can't afford to think of him as Jim, he chastised himself and returned his attention to the task at hand. I have a mission tonight. The only thing missing is Gordon.

The cop in question chose this exact moment to come onto the roof. Batman could see the door swing open, and Gordon's hands appeared, carrying two Styrofoam cups. Batman snorted in the shadows as a strong familiar scent wafted toward him on the night air. Coffee as a bribe or what? he thought and took a step forward. That Gordon didn't even flinch when Batman's looming shadow reached him was a clear sign of the change in their relationship. Whether it was for better or worse, only time would tell, but Batman's instincts told him to accept and use the changes instead of fighting them – at least for now.

He stopped a few steps short of Gordon and nodded a welcome.

"Gordon," he rasped his greeting in Batman's voice.

His ally looked a little surprised at that, but then understanding quickly flickered over his seasoned face.

"Guess we're on duty then, huh?" Gordon answered and shrugged, offering him a cup of the steaming hot liquid with an encouraging nod. "Thought you could use something to warm up before you go back to work…Batman," he added, almost as an afterthought, and Batman smiled inwardly at the slight hesitance in Gordon's voice.

Maybe nothing has really changed, he thought and gratefully accepted the coffee, cupping it with both gloved hands. His armor wasn't made for wearing thermal clothing underneath, and the winter wind was chilly in the middle of the night – especially at this height on the roofs above Gotham. Maybe he should ask Fox for a heated suit as soon as his friend was finished creating the new Tumbler – which might take till summer. Batman sighed and dismissed the ridiculous thought as fast as it had appeared.

Both men stood in companionable silence for a while, looking out over the city in peace for a change, and Batman allowed his thoughts to drift a little further than before while sipping at his coffee from time to time. Gordon is still himself: caring, compassionate, with an enormously strong will and a keen mind. He's a good cop, he would have figured it out sooner or later anyway, Batman tried to calm himself, but this notion immediately brought him back to the night the commissioner learned the true identity of Gotham's vigilante.

Bruce had been angry with Alfred at first. No, not just angry. He'd been furious that the old man hadn't allowed him to make the decision on his own. Furious that he'd been forced to reveal his identity like that, in his weakest state, desperate and hurting, ready to give up – and definitely not as he'd planned it. Truth be told, he'd never really intended to give up his secret to his friend and ally, but if the day ever came, he had wanted it to be his decision and not by accident or because he needed to. He'd never been good at taking orders anyway. The only person Bruce took anything like orders from was his former guardian and long-time friend because the older man was usually right, but he'd felt deceived and betrayed when Alfred came back with Jim Gordon in tow.

Bruce would never have acted on his rage, but the betrayal he'd felt that night had strained their relationship and their trust in each other for a while. He knew why Alfred had done it, but he hated losing control over something. And he hated even more to lose control over himself in front of witnesses, even if the only witness was the closest thing he had to a friend. He'd never meant for it to be like that, never wanted to reveal so much about himself.

He definitely didn't want to think about what would have happened if Gordon hadn't been able to reach him through his wall of grief and self-hatred. The same man who cared so much about him that he'd brought him coffee tonight. The thought made Batman smile, and when he noticed Gordon's questioning expression, he raised the cup in his hands and added, "Thanks." He didn't only mean the drink, but now was not the time and place to discuss such things.

Gordon nodded and answered, "You're welcome."

Maybe he had imagined it, but there seemed to be another meaning hidden behind those simple words as well. Batman decided to save that topic for later, but his friend wasn't so easily satisfied.

"So…," Gordon began. "How did you escape your watchful protector tonight?"

Well, obviously not all things are the same, Bruce thought and sighed, sending an angry glare into Gordon's direction, who didn't seem impressed at all. Oh, Alfred, you owe me. Big time. But in his heart, Bruce didn't mean it. It was merely his usual reaction every time his stubbornness had been overpowered by Alfred's wisdom.

Knowing the cop in Gordon wouldn't stop until he got his answer, Batman gave in and replied, "Today was the first day we could use thinner bandages."

Gordon sent him a worried glance, but Batman ignored it and continued, "I couldn't don the armor with the brace we used to steady my cracked ribs, but they seem to be healing well and so I insisted on going out tonight. I was going nuts at home."

The other man suddenly looked as if he'd seen a ghost.

"What?" Batman asked with a worried frown. Couldn't at least one of them behave normally this night?

Gordon seemed to shrug off the images his mind had procured with difficulty and answered, "Well, first, Batman apparently has a home that is worth mentioning now. And second, that was the longest speech he has ever given to me. He… you should be gone by now – but you're not. I just need some getting used to a Batman who actually waits for me to finish my sentences."

Batman suddenly shivered and mentally slapped himself over the head for not thinking clearly. Gordon was right! He had stayed way too long, not only endangering himself but the commissioner as well. What had he been thinking to stand on this open rooftop for so long?

Gordon must have been able to read his thoughts because he took a step forward, bodily blocking Batman's path as he turned around to leave. He held up a placating hand.

"We're not in danger here," he said. "Look around you!"

He indicated the sleeping city at their feet, and Batman's gaze followed his waving hand as the older man continued, "There's no one out there tonight. The city is recovering from the nightmare the Joker has forced upon it. Nobody dares to walk the streets at this time of night. The few criminals who are still left in Gotham are hiding in their rat holes, waiting for some other mobster to take control over them, but it's too soon for that. And my men are looking for you everywhere—just not on the roof of the MCU."

Gordon's voice wavered a little under Batman's scrutinizing gaze, but he recovered quickly and added, "I told them to leave this place alone. I said, clearly Batman wouldn't be so stupid as to come back up here."

Gordon shrugged apologetically, but Batman smiled and nodded his approval. "Thanks."

After that, they spent long minutes in silence, drinking their coffee and once more looking out over Gotham. Gordon cast him a curious glance once in a while, but Batman didn't bother to stir or show any sign that he noticed the other man's growing unease.

"You do like to be a mystery, don't you?" Gordon eventually asked, watching him expectantly in the dim light. The moon was hidden behind gray clouds and morning mist already ascended from the dark streets below.

"I have to be one," Batman answered, suddenly feeling very small and selfish because of the bitterness and coolness in his already rough voice. But it was the truth, wasn't it? Batman had to remain a mystery, a symbol. He had to be unfathomable, living in the shadows, out of everyone's reach.

But did he really have to be this alone? Or was there another reason behind his sudden urge to shove Gordon away like this, hurting the other man's feelings with grim silence? Why was it so hard for him to accept Jim's offer of friendship?

That was the point, wasn't it? Jim was his friend, not just his ally. He still accepted him in his role as Batman, even after everything he'd seen and heard in the improvised Bat cave. He hadn't tried to solve the puzzle on his own but jumped at the opportunity to help Batman, without really knowing where his involvement would lead him. He hadn't hesitated to help a partner he'd never really known.

That night, half a week ago, Jim had repeatedly asked, "Why me?" The answer was simple: because he was a good man. Trustworthy, loyal, compassionate and bent on doing the right thing without worrying about the consequences.

Bruce knew Jim would never betray the trust he had shown him – only, it hadn't been him. Alfred had turned to Jim for help – not Bruce. Alfred had been the one who'd revealed Batman's secret, his identity – not Batman himself. He'd been forced to accept it, whatever the consequences of Alfred's actions.

Nevertheless, maybe it was time for Bruce to forgive himself for losing control in front of others. He was only human, after all. Lesser men would never have been able to face the horrors Batman fought every night in the first place.

Batman was relieved that Gordon finally knew, because he was the only person in Gotham who could really understand Batman's motives and the need to do what he did, but Bruce was also angry and doubted his mentor's decision. A part of him understood that Alfred had been right to call his only friend that night…but still…it felt wrong. Bruce sighed. This is useless, he thought. I'm going in circles. And I can't change what's happened. Get a grip, Bruce! he reprimanded himself.

He had mulled this over and over the past few days while he went crazy at home, slowly but surely, confined to the penthouse because this time even Alfred hadn't been able to come up with a good cover-story to explain the cuts and bruises on his face. It was bad enough already that the incident with the wrecked Lamborghini had been on the news every day since the Joker's arrest…

Bruce hadn't even noticed that he'd started pacing behind Jim's back. Jim still stood by the railing, looking out over the city patiently, waiting for him to finish his train of thoughts. And suddenly, he envied the older man. It was an emotion he'd never believed himself capable of, but he couldn't deny that he begrudged Jim his patience and his ability to accept the change in their relationship, the knowledge he had gained, the complexity and danger he was facing now.

All at once, Bruce couldn't stand it any longer. He had to leave. Now! He wasn't ready for this. It seemed his worst nightmare had come true: Batman couldn't deal with the fact that his partner had found out his identity. It made him vulnerable, as he'd always feared. He had to go!

The older man must have sensed his agitation because suddenly he stood before him once more, blocking his path to the railing.

"Get out of my way!" Batman snarled, trying to intimidate Gordon by looming over him dangerously.

It didn't work.

"No" came the calm reply. "Running is not the solution to this."

Oh, really, Bruce thought sarcastically, and out loud he said, "Since when do you know what I'm thinking anyway?"

He tried to dodge Gordon, but because he was careful not to hurt the Commissioner, his way was barred again easily.

"Don't try to tell me what I should or shouldn't do!" Batman growled, anger coloring his rough voice even darker.

"I would never try to do that," Gordon answered. "Just allow me to show my concern."

Batman snorted in disbelieve and shot back, "It's not your job to worry about me! You've never done it…before." He didn't have to explain what he meant. The look the older man sent into his direction was clear enough.

Gordon locked eyes with him, obviously not in the least intimidated by Batman trying to stare him down, and replied, "Yes, I have, but it seems you haven't noticed. It's been my duty since we met."

Batman clenched his fists, squashing the empty cup in his hand in the process. He couldn't believe his ears. See what you get once you let someone close enough, he thought, fury roiling up in his stomach. "I didn't ask for any of this!" he snapped at Gordon, slowly losing control and hating himself for it.

Gordon didn't back down.

"Neither did I," he replied, eyes narrowed, the only sign of his rising irritation. His posture remained relaxed and confident.

Batman had to admire Gordon's will power.

The older man continued, his voice calm and not unfriendly. "'Now we're two,' you said. I believed you. And I always believed in you. You know I did because you got my message a few nights ago. You simply can't forbid me to worry about you, not after everything we've been through. Together." He emphasized the last word, a slight tremor in his voice finally betraying his composure.

Bruce didn't want to hear any of it. "You're not my father!" he hissed.

Gordon stepped back as if he'd been punched in the gut, all color suddenly draining from his face so that he looked almost white in the moonlight that illuminated the rooftop. He was obviously shaken by Batman's thoughtless outburst, but after taking a few deep breaths he replied, "No, I'm not. And I don't want to be." He swallowed, suddenly looking tired, as if his age had abruptly caught up with him. "But I wanted to be your friend," he added, turning around and heading for the door that led back into the building.

Bruce swore under his breath. Damn! Couldn't he do anything right tonight? He wanted to protect his friend and his family by distancing himself from Gordon, not hurt him. He called after him in a quite voice, "Gordon," but the Commissioner didn't stop. Bruce cursed and tried again, a little louder this time but still trying not to shout in the open space. "Jim."

I don't even know how to think of him anymore, Bruce thought impatiently. How can we ever untangle this mess?

This time the older man stopped, his hand already on the doorknob, but he didn't turn around, so Bruce had to take the last step to be able to look at his friend.

"Jim," he said again, this time with a little more confidence in his voice, now that Jim had halted.

They stood in the shadow of the door, gazing at each other in a silent staring contest. Jim waited for him to speak, his clear blue eyes fixed on Batman's black ones. Batman suddenly felt very tired and rubbed gloved knuckles over his gritty eyes. Obviously, Alfred had been right as usual that it was too early for him to go out again.

He searched for words but couldn't find any to express what he really wanted to say. In the end he settled for a simple, "I'm sorry."

To his chagrin, there was a lot more of Bruce Wayne's timbre in Batman's voice than usual. This unintentional slip seemed to mollify Jim, who finally drew his hand back from the doorknob and let it drop to his side. Yet something seemed to worry the older man.

"Don't use that voice!" he warned, raising his own voice for the very first time that night. "If anyone hears you…"

Bruce interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, come on, no one would even hear the difference. Besides, you said it yourself, no one is out here tonight." Luckily, Batman's voice was back to normal, so he continued, "And in case you haven't noticed, you're the only person Batman actually talks to."

That earned him a stern look but also a slight smile, and Bruce let out a sigh in relief. Maybe Batman being more human – and talkative – wasn't so bad after all, but it definitely complicated things. Not only between him and his partner but for Batman himself.

How was he supposed to fulfill his task, knowing that someone was always worrying about him, waiting for him to appear in the shadows to see if he was still alive? But then again, Alfred was also concerned every time Bruce went out as Batman, and it hadn't hindered him from doing what he did so far.

Bruce exhaled slowly as he turned away, not knowing what to do or say next, when he suddenly felt a hand on his tense arm, holding him back. He looked at Jim who smiled at him knowingly. Accustomed to such looks from Alfred, the smile irritated Bruce, but at the same time it sent a wave of gratefulness through him because he knew exactly what it meant: Jim really did care about him, probably more than he was aware of himself. He had shown his sense of duty and friendship a few nights ago when he went to help his unknown ally in the middle of the night. Bruce knew he couldn't ignore that. He also knew that he would have done the same thing if their roles were reversed.

Jim was right. They had been through so much together, because of each other, and for each other. They were two men, two partners, even friends, strange as it might sound. Caring about each other couldn't be wrong, could it? They just had to figure out how to do so without compromising their secret alliance and Batman's identity.

Bruce noticed that they still stood in the same spot and shook himself from his stupor. "I'm not making any sense today, am I?" he asked, ashamed of himself.

"Yes, you are," Jim replied. "I can only imagine how confusing this must be for you." That earned him an annoyed look, but he continued as if he hadn't noticed. "Hey, how do you think I feel about all this? And by the way, have you ever tried talking to a man wearing a mask? It's not easy, I can assure you. The eyes can only tell you so much about him."

Batman laughed at that. It was a very unfamiliar feeling and the cowl made it a little uncomfortable, but at the same time it was very liberating. Jim looked at him curiously, obviously not seeing what was so funny about his remark. Eventually, Bruce explained, "Every time I attend a business meeting."

Jim only rolled his eyes in response and motioned for Bruce to follow him back to the railing, so they could look out over the city they both had sworn to protect.

Bruce decided not to argue because he knew that somehow they had to reach an agreement to make this work. Very soon. He would not go home tonight without a solution and give Alfred the satisfaction to say, "I told you so." The thought made him chuckle when he joined Jim in their previous look-out point, resting his arms on the guardrail and trying to get some weight off his injured chest. The suit is still heavy, Fox, he mused. The umpteenth sigh of the night earned him a guarded look from his left. Bruce opted for innocence, but ignoring his partner became more and more difficult with every glance the other man shot at him, so finally, Bruce turned back to him .

"What is it now?" he asked, trying not to sound angry but at the same not too encouraging. Batman's doing small talk, I can't believe it, he thought and eyed his vis-à-vis impatiently. "Well?" he inquired when Jim remained silent.

After a moment of thought, the older man voiced his question, "Why did you come here tonight?"

Bruce's lack of response seemed to encourage Jim to elaborate. "I mean, you called me, said you wanted to meet, so I left my sleeping family at home and headed to work very early tonight. Uh, technically it's morning, but I guess you have another opinion about that…"

His voice trailed off when Bruce suddenly stepped forward, grabbed his partner's sleeve and dragged him to the fire escape on the other side of the roof. Jim was too surprised to react immediately, but when they reached the ladder, the older man dug in his heals and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Finding a place where we can talk," Bruce replied. "It's getting brighter, we could be spotted on the roof too easily in a while. Besides, it's freezing cold up here. There'll be no wind on this side of the building. Plus, there are no windows." Bruce was oddly proud of himself that at least one explanation he'd given tonight made sense, even in his own ears.

To his credit, Jim didn't protest further but followed him down the ladder to the second landing and leaned against the railing there. Bruce slumped on the steps opposite of him, his chest hurt like hell. He tried not to make too much noise or show any signs of weakness in front of his partner. Jim appeared not to notice although Bruce knew otherwise. Alfred would be delighted to hear that his charge had picked up another mother hen…

Bruce shoved the thought away and after a few moments of silence, he tried to answer Jim's question. "I'm not sure anymore," he said.

It clearly wasn't what Jim expected to hear, but he'd never lied to his friend before and he wouldn't start now. If Jim really wanted to get to know Batman better and talk to him as a human being, he would have to listen to this, as absurd as it might sound. Yes, Bruce, why did you really come here tonight? he asked himself.

Thoughtfully, Bruce added, "Well, I told you, I had to get out."

Jim raised a questioning eyebrow. "And?"

"And I wanted to see if we could still make it work," Bruce continued.

"So, can we?" Jim replied, but Bruce, enjoying this little game, countered with a question of his own.

"What do you think?" he asked, watching his friend closely.

Jim sent him an annoyed look.

"Can you at least once answer a question directly?" came the expected reply. Then Jim seemed to get it and started laughing, which made Bruce grin as well. "Never argue with Batman, is that tonight's lesson?" the older man asked, still grinning.

Bruce chuckled. "Something like that. But to answer your question" – he grew serious again – "Yes, I think we can. We're still here, aren't we? You came back although you knew I'm a little messed up at the moment." Jim opened his mouth to say something, but Bruce cut him off. "I'm here, too, although I have to admit I've had better days…nights." He smirked and continued, "By the way, you might wanna send a squad car to the corner of 1st and 5th. Your men can pick up a drug dealer there."

The older man gaped, then realized how silly he looked and shut his mouth with a snap. "Thanks," he said, reaching for his cell phone. "I'll send them right over."

Bruce smiled, "You don't have to rush them. He's not going anywhere."

"Okay…," Jim replied slowly, trying to sound casual, but he was obviously already in cop mode, twiddling the cell in his pocket and trying not to look as if he wished to be somewhere else. It was evident from his pained expression that he was thinking up a story to tell his cops. Somehow he had to explain how the drug dealer had ended up there, probably gagged and bound to God knew what, without mentioning Batman and raising suspicion about the shunned vigilante's true allegiance.

"Always on duty, Commissioner?" Bruce teased, receiving a glare in return.

"Look who's talking," Jim sniped. Bruce shook his head in amusement, raising his hands in mock defeat.

"All right, all right," he chuckled. "Just trying to lighten the mood here."

Jim looked at him with slightly narrowed eyes but grinned nevertheless, "Why do I get the feeling you're laughing at me?" Then he groaned theatrically. "Joking Batman at this ungodly hour is too much for me. I need more coffee." He pointed a hand into the general direction of the roof and the door that lead back inside and looked at Bruce questioningly. "Want another one, too? It's not your usual stuff, I bet, but at least it's hot."

Bruce shook his head, "No, thanks, I better get going. Dawn is coming. My silent…" He stopped to think and continued mockingly, "…probably not so silent shadow is waiting for me. He'll have a lot to say when I get back." He rolled his eyes but was also looking forward to going home. Alfred would surely be up and waiting for him with hot chocolate, lots of bandages, and the inevitable amount of sage advice…

Bruce returned his attention to the man standing in front of him, now staring out over the city with an expression of hope on his face that he hadn't seen there for a very long time. Maybe that special night hadn't just helped Batman overcome his fear and doubt, but had also given his friend long-needed confidence and hope. Maybe Jim had simply needed reassurance that his partner was really human.

They could do this together. And being able to call each other by day was definitely an improvement to their previous chance encounters in dark alleys and on windy rooftops. Well, none of those meetings had really been by chance, but previously Gordon had never been able to contact Batman, so it had always been Batman's call to arrange their meetings at crime scenes. Bruce doubted that there would be a lot of those meetings in the immediate future; but nevertheless, calling a cell phone definitely beat waiting in the cold for hours.

Suddenly, he became aware that Jim hadn't moved as much as an eyelash. He simply stood there, watching him again, obviously deep in thought. Careful not to scare his friend, Bruce slowly got up from his sitting position, took a step towards him, and asked, "What's bugging you? I thought we'd agreed to make this work?"

Startled, Jim looked at him in surprise. "What? Oh, I was just thinking…" He stopped as if unsure whether to say what was on his mind or not. Then he seemed to overcome his doubts and blurted out, "How do you do it?"

Bruce blinked in surprise. This was not what he'd expected. What was visible of his face must have hardened or maybe Jim realized belatedly how personal his question was, because he looked very nervously at Bruce and said, "You don't have to answer. It's just…I could never imagine doing…this." He waved a hand at Bruce in his heavy body armor, then at the waking city surrounding them. "I think I know why now, but still…" He shrugged helplessly, lost for words.

Bruce wasn't angry, merely astonished. He tried to smile encouragingly while thinking of an appropriate answer. Jim deserved an honest one. Next time we meet, we should definitely go somewhere private. Usually I don't mind the armor, but talking with Batman's voice for so long can't be good for the vocal cords, he thought, shuddering in anticipation of another lecture from Alfred.

After another moment of contemplation, Bruce tried to voice the things he'd never really allowed himself to think about before.

"I…I just have to. I'm…two people in one. Or maybe even three," Bruce tried to explain. He grimaced, still searching for the right words to express himself. "I'm Batman at night, I'm just me at home, and my other self in public." He looked at Jim with serious eyes, "Before you say anything, I'm not suffering from Dissociative Identity Disorder. It's just that every person I am, or rather have to be, is a part of me I can't ignore. Well, I admit, I could live without one of the characters because it's not really me. But since it's bound to one of the others, it's not likely to vanish any time soon, so…"

He stopped his rambling mid-sentence when Jim snorted in laughter, and asked, "What?" And for the very first time, Bruce got the opportunity to see Jim Gordon, Police Commissioner of Gotham, head of Gotham's Finest, always composed and in control - blush. That's a new one, he thought, lifting an eyebrow, but because of the cowl Jim couldn't see it, of course. So he settled instead for an inquiring stare that finally elicited an answer from the fidgeting Commissioner.

"Uh…don't you ever get bored of pretending to be such a…moron?" Jim asked with an uneasy look on his face.

Bruce had a hard time not laughing, but he understood his friend's discomfort very well and answered in earnest, "It's harder than you think, actually. Not boring at all, merely annoying. And I have to be very careful, because some day I might say something that raises suspicions about my real IQ."

He winked, and Jim relaxed slightly, so Bruce continued, much more serious now. "I'm also trying not to hurt anybody with my shenanigans. Some people are just too eager and ambitious for their own good. So, naturally, they try to schmooze with me and become my best friend. But the few real friends I have are, well, rare, and I definitely won't find them in my usual playground."

Bruce knew he didn't have to elaborate to make his point and explain which personality he meant. His partner's cop instinct would catch the subtleties easily enough.

Jim simply nodded in understanding and said, "Your parents would be proud of you."

It was the best compliment Jim could have given him tonight.

Bruce decided this was enough for one meeting. He had only come to tell Jim about the drug dealer in the first place, now that he thought about it. How did the other man always manage to coax him into talking so much anyway? And they say, only pretty girls can turn Bruce Wayne's head, he thought and immediately slapped himself mentally for the thought. He'd definitely spent too much time with some of Gotham's most famous – and brainless – inhabitants. Must be Jim's experience as a seasoned cop and father that allows him to make me talk about things even Alfred wouldn't dare to ask, he mused.

He turned around to say good-bye to Jim. He was really looking forward to getting out of the suit.

Bruce didn't have to say anything. Jim looked ready to go, too, so he simply nodded and said in his best Batman style, "I'll just go down here. See you, Commissioner."

From behind Jim's voice stopped him on the first step.

"What about the tour you promised?" he asked.

Bruce turned back and chuckled.

"I didn't forget. I know you're off-duty this Saturday and your family's going to Chicago to visit the kid's grandparents. So, what do you say?"

He wasn't prepared for the angry glower Jim sent into his direction.

"What?" Bruce asked, a little more fiercely than intended.

Jim surprised him by spitting, "Dammit! You bugged my house? How?" He broke off with a heated huff and continued, "Never mind. Just stop it! I need some privacy, for God's sake. I have a family!"

Bruce understood all too well what had upset his friend, but he tried not to sound apologetic when he replied, "I know. That's why I do what I do…what I did. I won't come near you when you're with your family ever again. You have already risked too much because of me. And just so you know, I did not bug your house. I was sitting on your roof when you came home. I wanted to talk to you, but then I decided to ask you to come here instead. It's safer for them this way."

He could see that Jim was still incensed, but gradually, the older man yielded to reason and mumbled, focusing on his feet, "Oh… I'm sorry. I should have known you wouldn't..."

Bruce interrupted him by standing right in front of his friend. "It's okay. I understand. I would probably have reacted the same way."

When Jim finally looked up at him, Bruce continued mockingly, "Scratch that. I would have shot first and asked questions later. Or not."

His partner chuckled at that and let out a relieved sigh. "It's just…"

"I know," Bruce cut him off him again. "But you're not alone anymore. I may not always act in the most sensible way, but I'm not stupid either. I know how you feel. I want to protect your family, too, okay?" Seems I'm the one responsible for pep talks today, Bruce thought with a sigh. Why could life never be easy? On the other hand, it was comforting to know that, in contrast to his previous assumptions, he wasn't the only one having trouble with their peculiar situation.

Suddenly, Bruce noticed the first stripe of light on the horizon and quickly took a step toward the stairs once more. "I gotta go. Dawn is coming. I'll pick you up Saturday at noon, okay?" he asked.

He really had to go! The first early birds were already opening their windows and trying to catch the first breeze that didn't smell too much of exhaust fumes and garbage, as it would definitely later in the day.

Jim nodded and waved good-bye with a tired smile.

"Try not to be seen, all right?" he asked.

Bruce only rolled his eyes as an answer and turned to go. Then a sudden thought surged through him. He turned back to Jim and said, "One day, we'll repair it."

"Huh?" Jim looked at him uncomprehendingly.

"The spotlight," Bruce elaborated.

Jim smiled a little. "Let's just hope that day comes very soon. I'm too old to meet at the crack of dawn every time you wanna give me some intel."

Bruce stifled a snort of laughter and finally set off with a soft rustling of his cape. A warm and cozy bed was waiting for him at the penthouse.

The End