The children's activities naturally couldn't escape Batman, the "World's Greatest Detective," especially an operation so extensive and wide-ranging.
After a moment's thought, Bruce understood what they were after and couldn't help chuckling.
"Master Bruce, the children have worked so hard, trying everything they can just to spend a normal Christmas with you, free of outside interruptions. Mocking them behind their backs is hardly appropriate."
Butler Batman Alfred set down the black tea and reminded him.
"No, Alfred, I'm not mocking them." Bruce closed his computer and leaned back in his chair. "On the contrary, I'm delighted that they know to put family first and understand how to work together."
"Then do forgive an old man and his failing eyesight. I couldn't tell."
As if by magic, Alfred produced a mirror and handed it to a thoroughly puzzled Bruce.
"What's this for?"
What did he mean?
Alfred looked solemn, as though reciting the day's menu. "Master Bruce, have a look in the mirror. Are you certain you don't need me to call the family physician? You seem to have forgotten how to make normal human facial expressions."
Bruce: ꐦ≖ ≖
What a dry joke. Alfred really was British through and through.
Over the past several days, with everyone keeping things in check, there had been fewer thunderous explosions on the streets, fewer piercing sirens, and even less of the lingering smell of gunpowder in the wind. The whole city had fallen unusually quiet, as though it, too, were holding its breath for Christmas.
With the Bat Cubs working together, and Batman quietly giving his approval and assistance, Christmas Eve arrived.
Arkham Asylum stood on the outskirts of Gotham, its towering walls and enclosed grounds like an isolated island forgotten by the world.
Dusk was fading, and the night was deepening.
An