"Call already! What are you standing there for? Waiting for that lousy phone to hatch a chick?"
Yang Ming leaned back in his executive chair, his crossed legs propped on the desk and a coffee cup in his hand, looking at Selene behind the triage desk as though she were an idiot.
"Oh... okay... I'll call now..."
Selene swallowed. The hand holding the receiver trembled slightly, and her fingers shook as she dialed the private number for Wayne Manor printed in the newspaper.
"Ring-ring-"
The call was answered after just two rings.
"Good evening, Wayne Manor. Whom would you like to speak to?"
An impeccably authentic British accent came over the line, the man's voice deep and meticulously precise.
"Uh... well... I'm looking for..." Normally, Selene would mouth off to anyone on the streets of the East End. She even dared to mouth off to Bruce.
But now that she knew Bruce was Batman, her tongue instantly tied itself in knots, and she could barely get her words out.
"Useless." Yang Ming sighed, rose from his chair, and snatched the receiver from Selene.
"Good evening, Mr. Pennyworth." Yang Ming's voice was utterly flat. "This is Doctor Yang from 22 Lake Street."
The breathing on the other end paused almost imperceptibly for half a second.
Then Alfred's elegant voice came through, with a hidden edge beneath it:
"Ah, Doctor Yang. Master Wayne has been praising your 'mysterious Eastern spray' these past few days. He said its searing pain gave him an entirely new understanding of medical standards in that great Eastern nation."
"Glad to hear it. If Master Wayne likes it, I've got a whole crate here. I'll give him twenty percent off next time." A sly, cold smile curled Yang Ming's lips.
"Please let him know I'll be coming to