BAE Chapter 13

Barbara calls her father.

He answers right away. “What’s up, Princess?”

“Want to spend some quality time together, Dad?”

“Boy, do I. What’s the catch?”

“You have to wear your tux.”

“Ouch. You drive a hard bargain, Kiddo. Hold on,” he says, and Barbara hears him speaking in the background. “It can wait, Harvey. I’m punching out. My daughter wants to spend time with me for once.” He returns to the line. “I assume this means I’m buying a fancy dinner.”

“Nope. Bruce Wayne’s buying.”

“Wayne? Did he come back to town?”

“No, I mean that Wayne Enterprises is buying. I got a little promotion in my internship.”

“Well, that’s exciting.”

“I’ll tell you all about it when I pick you up.”

“You’re picking me up?” He sounds taken aback.

When Barbara returns to her apartment, it’s clear that Alfred has been there. It’s cleaner than normal, embarrassingly the bedding has been changed, and several things are present that weren’t there before. He’s re-opened Barbara’s old secret compartments and filled them with equipment and a costume.

On the bed, a bag holds a dress for the gala: a little blue off-the-shoulder robe-style piece that he appears to have altered himself along with the perfect heels.

There’s no sign of any other intruder, but Barbara hasn’t forgotten someone broke in last night.

Alfred’s sassy side is out: Barbara’s tea bags are gone. A fancy tin of loose Jasmine tea has mysteriously taken its place as well as a small teapot and a handwritten note with instructions on how to make tea properly. And Barbara had thought that she was very classy with her electric kettle and tea bags. Among her mugs are now a cup and saucer that weren’t there before.

“I love you too, Alfred. But you know that I already have a dad,” she mutters, shutting the cupboard and getting dressed.

Alfred is right on time in the Rolls, and Barbara has to admit: being the fake Bruce does have perks. She’s never ridden in a car this nice before. Or had a chauffeur. It’s that much weirder that Alfred seems to enjoy it so much. Maybe because she appreciates it rather than taking it for granted the way that Bruce always did.

“And what level of severity should an emergent matter rise to before you should be interrupted?” he asks as they head toward the Commissioner’s house.

“Use your discretion,” Barbara replies. Alfred will be listening to the police scanner during the gala. If there’s a bank job, he’ll probably let the police handle it. If Mr. Freeze hits something with his gang, Barbara will have to call the night early.

“Good evening, Commissioner,” Alfred says to Dad as he opens the door.

“Um, good evening, sir,” Dad replies nervously. He’s not used to this kind of treatment. He awkwardly climbs into the back beside Barbara. “What in the world is going on?” he murmurs. “Did you win the lottery?”

“No, Dad,” Barbara laughs. “Kind of the opposite.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Doesn’t this thing have seatbelts?”

“Dad, relax.” The car’s moving again. “The head of Applied Scientists at Wayne Tech likes me.”

“Did they offer you a job?” He sounds excited.

“When my internship is finished, yes. Be ready for the papers to talk about it. I jumped the line.”

“Wow.” He sounds dazed. “And what’s going on tonight? Is this a party in your honor?”

“Hardly. It’s a charity gala to clean up Gotham Harbor.”

“Well, at least that’s a cause I can get behind,” the commissioner says tiredly. “I’m exhausted, Princess. This Spider character has me dancing like a cat on a hot tin roof.”

“That’s the burglar that’s been hitting rich guys,” Barbara says. “I’ve read about him.”

“Has to be a she,” Dad confides. “We only know about the crimes because of the wives. The primary victims aren’t talking.”

“She’s not breaking and entering, is she?”

“Doubtful. But there are no leads. These men are afraid.”

“Of her?”

“Of something.” Dad shrugs. “But these are rich men. They support the mayor. They support me. The new DA thinks that I should be pushing them harder.”

“Should you?”

“Maybe. I don’t want to charge them as accessories, and I don’t like wasting these resources on these guys. What if we’d put this kind of effort into stopping certain other guys? Then this—this Karma Gang—wouldn’t exist?”

“What gang?”

“Oh, you don’t want to know about them, Princess. God.” He sighs. “Let’s not talk about work. Unless you want to talk about your work. Tell me about Wayne Enterprises. What about school?”