Whatever Happened to the Caped Crusader?
by John O'Connor
Disclaimer:  "Birds Of Prey", it's characters,
locations, etc are copyright DC Comics, Time Warner,
and the WB Network.  No infringement for profit is
intended.  This is strictly for fun.
Note: Spoilers for "Pilot" and various comic book
adventures including the "A Death In The Family"
storyline.

Rated PG-13
_______________________________________________________
Barbara wheeled around so fast, she seemed a blur.
"Alright Alfred!  Enough!  What do you know?"
"Well, that depends..."
Barbara worked to suppress a grin that always appeared
when Alfred was being stoic, especially around Helena.
"Depends on?" she asked.
"On what we're speaking of..."
"You know damned well what I said.  And I heard you
mutter in that insufferable way you have."  Barbara's
smile died quickly.  "Tell me what you know!"
Alfred closed his eyes and sighed.  He knew it was
only a matter of time before this brilliant young
woman would figure something out.
"I gave my word..."
"To who?  Bruce?"  At Alfred's silent nod, Barbara
went on, "What did you promise?  Where is he?"
"I notice you didn't ask if he was still alive," the
old gentleman replied evasively.
"No.  No, I didn't.  I have figured that much out."
"May I ask how?"
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Barbara let out a
sigh.  "Tit for tat?  Alright, I can play too.  Here's
my tidbit.  He didn't cover his financial tracks
well."
"Oh.  I had thought after that nasty business with
that Al-Ghul chap, he would've learned his lesson.  He
did manage to cover up those clues quickly enough."
"Alfred, I don't care about R'as Al-Ghul, Two-Face,
the Riddler, Bane, or any of the rest of his Rogue's
Gallery.  Where is he?"  There was an edge in
Barbara's voice that mirrored the frustration in her
soul.
"Mistress Barbara, I gave my word that I would not
reveal that information.  Please, there are good
reasons."
"Good reasons?  For abandoning the city he pledged his
life to?  For leaving us to try and keep order in this
cesspool?"  Barbara turned her chair again, hiding the
tears that threatened to spill, "Do you know what it
did to my father when he disappeared?"
"Ma'am..."
"My father tried.  He really tried to keep things
going but...  With me in a hospital bed, he was torn. 
He had to choose between his family and his career. 
He knew, without Bruce's help, he couldn't do both. 
Even Nightwing's return from Bludhaven wasn't enough. 
The strain was just too much.  
"Fortunately the stroke was minor and he's doing much
better.  Thank God for Sarah and those therapists I
found."
Taking a deep breath, Barbara turned around again,
"But it didn't have to come to that.  If Bruce hadn't
turned tail and run after the Joker's last spree..."
Alfred whispered, "Forgive me, Master Bruce."  Alfred
straightened and look directly into Barbara's eyes. 
"This is not to go further.  Do you understand?"
Barbara nodded, amazed, almost frightened, by the
steel in the old man. 
"As you know, the Joker wasn't killed in the fire down
in the warehouse district.  He escaped.  Master Bruce,
finally accepting the fact that there was only one
solution to that maniac, followed.
"He knew that he could be away for some time so he
requested Master Dick return from Bludhaven, at least
temporarily.  Once he knew that Gotham would be in
safe hands, he left.  
"To be frank, Barbara, I don't even know if he was
aware of your injuries at that point.   I don't
believe he became aware of the extent of the Joker's
mad rampage until much later."
Barbara noted the rare use of her name without any
honorific.  It always touched her when Alfred let his
proper British gentleman's gentleman facade slip.  "So
he figured Dick and I, and whoever else was around,
could handle things for him?"
Alfred nodded, "Yes.  But I believe his..."  Alfred
paused, "Excuse me, but this is difficult.  While he
and I had our differences, I never spoke badly about
Master Bruce behind his back.
"I believe his mania, for lack of a better word, to
avenge Mistress Selena overcame his judgment.  He
didn't bother to find out how things were in New
Gotham.  Or to make arrangements for his true
identity.  Fortunately, Lucius Fox had previously
learned of Master Bruce's double life and hastily made
arrangements to cover for the sudden absence of the
head of Wayne Enterprises.
"The chase went on for quite some time.  Gotham to
Canada, across into the former Soviet Union and into
the mess in the Near East."
"Near East?" Barbara asked, vaguely recognizing the
antiquated term.
"Yes, your pardon.  When I was a child the Middle East
was the Subcontinent and the eastern end of the
Mediterranean was still considered the Near East. 
Until the war when the Middle Eastern Command was..."
"Yes, I remember now from my history classes.  Please,
let's get back to what happened."
"Yes, of course.   Master Bruce thought he'd cornered
that dastardly maniac several times in various
dictatorships.  It seems the Joker tried curry favor
with the various despots in hopes of securing
diplomatic immunity once again."
"Like he did after he killed Jason Todd and later
tried to gas the UN."
"Yes.  Superman convinced Master Bruce that it was in
his best interests to let Iran's diplomatic immunity
protect the Joker.  Until such time as the Joker tried
to gas the General Assembly.  After that incident,
many nations called for the Joker's head but he was
returned again to Arkham.  Would that the State
Department had acquiesced to one or more nations
demands to give him up..."  Alfred shook his head,
saddened that the Clown Prince of Crime was allowed to
live and spread his madness again and again.
"Now Iran has a more moderate government and wanted
nothing to do with the Joker again.  Saddam Hussein,
wisely, wouldn't trust such a maniac in his own
government.  Libya had been quiet since President
Reagan bombed Tripoli.  The Afghans, the Syrians, even
Hezbollah didn't trust him.  Only Qurac was willing to
take him in."
Barbara closed her eyes.  Qurac was, to most, the
worst of any of the Middle East regimes.  Even
Hussein's madness paled against the evils that regime
had perpetrated on too many occasions.
"The fact that the United States did not, and still
does not, recognize the Quraci regime allowed Master
Bruce to act with impunity.
"He entered the country and found the Joker.  But what
he also found there..."  Alfred shook his head.
"What?  What did he find?"
Alfred paused and carefully looked around the
Clocktower.  "Mistress Helena?"
"Out.  She's working then she's going on patrol. 
It'll be..."  Barbara glanced at the system clock on
her central monitor, "...at least an hour before she
even checks in.  Why?"
"The Joker's lair, his Ha-hacienda as he called them,
was an old British colonial fort.  Most of it was in
ruins but the central citadel was intact.  Inside,
that maniac had..."  Alfred paused again, swallowed,
and with a pained look, continued, "Inside, Master
Bruce found...Mistress Selena."
"Selena?!?  Alive?" Barbara exclaimed, leaning far
forward in her chair.  Selena Kyle, Barbara's first
love.  One of the many things she found she shared
with Bruce Wayne.  Theirs was a brief, tumultuous
affair, one that still sizzled in Barbara's memories. 
But, ultimately, it ended when Selena decided Barbara
was suffering from puppy love.  The pain from that
still throbbed in Barbara's heart and mind as well.  
"She was...after a fashion.  Drug-induced coma.  When
she was stabbed, the blade had a curare derivative on
the tip.  Enough that, when the medical examiners
initially examined her, they declared her dead.  After
she was taken to the morgue, but before the autopsy,
another body, similar enough to Mistress Selena to
match the medical records, was put in her place."
"Another body?  Who's?"
"None of us who know the truth have any idea.  Could
be any of a number of missing persons at that time. 
Perhaps a prostitute or some homeless vagrant.  No one
seems to miss them," Alfred stated sadly.
"But the funeral?  Surely someone would've noticed?"
"You forget, it was a closed casket in deference to
young Mistress Helena.  As far as the city of New
Gotham is concerned, Selena Kyle is interred in the
city's main cemetery, Holy Mount.  Near the Wayne
mausoleum, I might add.
"In the case of the real Selena Kyle, the drug kept
her comatose for all the months that the master
searched for her 'killer'.  And, unfortunately, there
was neurological damage as a result..."
"Oh, poor Selena," Barbara whispered.
"As to the deception, no one can guess the twisted
workings of that fiendish mind.  However, once again
Master Bruce managed to foil the Joker's insidious
plan."
"What plan?" Barbara asked.  "What could he have
planned?"
"Nothing as grandiose as attacking the United Nations.
 For the moment, he merely wished to secure his
liberty.  Foolishly, that demented mind didn't seem to
understand that the sole reason Master Bruce tracked
him as long, as relentlessly as he had was because the
Joker apparently killed Mistress Selena.  The mad fool
actually brought it on himself.
"This time, Master Bruce broke his own code.  He took
a life.  The Joker died in the Quraci wastes.  And
Mistress Selena was rescued."
"But why didn't he bring her back?  Why didn't he tell
us?  My God, Helena believes her mother was brutally
murdered all those years ago and that her father is an
unfeeling brute."
Alfred offered a weak smile, "That is where it
gets...dicey.  Most of this I put together on my own. 
I'm not a bad detective myself when need be."  Barbara
nodded.  He had, after all, been the first to figure
out mousy little Barbara Gordon was the sleak, sexy
Batgirl.  Even her own father doubted it when she had
finally told him.
"The Joker had always been a bit of an amateur
chemist.  Perhaps before the incident that created him
at the Monarch Card Company, he had been a
professional.  But, with no knowledge of his former
identity, the Joker's past will always be a blank
slate.
"At any rate, he was again experimenting with gaseous
compounds, possibly trying to enhance his Joker Venom.
 A combination of these was released inside the lab as
the two arch-nemeses fought.
"The compounds seemed to create gaps in Master Bruce's
memory.  He knew who and what he was, who the Joker
and Mistress Selena were but, among other things both
trivial and important, his mania for justice in Gotham
was lost.  He decided to take Mistress Selena and get
her the best help possible."
"And?"
"They are residing in a chalet in the Swiss Alps. 
Mistress Selena, like you, requires a wheelchair to
move around.  But her memory, and Master Bruce's, are
slowly rebuilding."
"Do they at least remember they have a daughter?"
"Yes, now.  But Master Bruce took some papers from the
lab before destroying it completely.  They indicated
some grand plan to kill all those important to the
Batman.  In his addled state, he took that to mean
that Mistress Helena was already dead.  He decided to
devote himself to helping his love, her mother."
Alfred paused at the pained look on Barbara's face.
"My apologies, Barbara.  I should have phrased that
better."
"No Alfred, you phrased it just right.  She is his
love.  Not mine.  It still hurts though."
"Yes, lost love always does...  Anyway, back to what
happened.  Master Bruce and Mistress Selena both now
know of Mistress Helena.  And Mistress Dinah as well. 
Master Dick and I have kept them informed."
"Dick knew?!?  That creep!" Barbara muttered with a
low laugh.  "He is so going to get it...  Alright, if
they know, why haven't they returned?  Or gotten in
touch with us?"
"Embarrassment in part.  How could a parent forget
their own child?  That traumatized both of them for a
time.  Only Leslie Tompkins managed to keep them from
doing anything rash."
"So that's where she went..." Barbara interjected.
"Also, they have seen how magnificent a job you've
done here and don't want to overshadow you.  He was
quite content to pass over the mantle to you and the
other ladies here.”
“But his need for justice... For...” Barbara
hesitated.  It was not a word she or Dick dared to use
around Bruce.  “His need for revenge?”
“I have seen them – my vacation last year? – and I
have never seen Master Bruce so at peace.  The ghosts
that have haunted him since his parents’ brutal murder
seem to finally be at rest.”
“So why not return?”
“Travel is difficult for Mistress Selena.  And there
is Mistress Helena to consider..."
"What's to consider?  I mean now that they know they
have a daughter..."
"She has been a bit...volatile on occasion.  I must
say your influence has gone a long way to calming her
but we all agreed that none of you would learn of this
until we felt the time was right."
"And the time is right for me but not Helena?"
"Exactly.  We decided when you were able to deduce as
much as you had, it was time to tell you the truth."
"So, when will the time be right for Helena to learn
all of this?  I don't think it'll matter in her
reaction."
Alfred nodded, "I tend to agree.  She will undoubtedly
be most displeased.  But, with your love and support,
we believe she'll be able to accept it more easily."
Barbara smirked, "My love?  No, she's not..."
"Ah-ah-ah."  Alfred wagged his finger precisely twice.
 "I have seen how you look at her when you think she
can't see you.  And I've seen how Mistress Helena
looks at you."
"A-at me?" Barbara asked in a quiet voice.
Alfred smiled gently, "Yes.  She loves you.  And you
her."
"B-but..."
Alfred knelt before the redheaded woman in the chair,
taking her hands in his, "Barbara, you have both had
so much pain and loss in your young lives.  And you've
both given so much to this city.  Take what joy you
can when you can.  Please."
Hope welled in her breast at the prospect of being
with her love. The girl leaned forward and kissed the
old gentleman softly.  "Thank you, Alfred."
Standing, he smiled, nodded and said, "It is always my
pleasure."
"So, what will our Prodigal couple think?"
"I know for a fact that they will be happier than
anyone when the two of you get together.  Except
perhaps myself."
Barbara wheeled her chair next to the man who always
took such marvelous care of all of them and hugged
him.  "Oh Alfred, I love you."  
"And I love you too, Mistress Barbara," Alfred said as
he blinked back an ungentlemanly tear.
 (c) John O'Conner

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