Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted materials contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or the associated companies. I make no profit from this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this in the future. I write because it's fun and because some readers enjoy my stories. Therefore it would be greatly appreciated if no legal action were taken against me.

PS-Positive reviews are always appreciated. Constructive criticism will be considered but not necessarily acted upon. People writing negative reviews just to take a dump on my work and ruin my day will be gleefully ignored.

Wayne Manor

Alfred Pennyworth's POV

Like every other morning at precisely five thirty his alarm clock went off, awakening him from his slumber with the needed force to keep the lingering fatigue from reasserting itself. Once he was satisfied he got out of his bed and went to the bathroom adjoining his room to take a shower and clean himself up since it would be abhorrent to look anything less than perfect as he went about his duties. Once done there he returned to his room and opened the closet to pick out the freshest of his uniforms before laying it carefully on his bed before going through the process of getting changed. It didn't take him long to do given than he had been carrying out his duties as butler to the Wayne family for a great many years it'd become second nature to him.

Once he was sure that everything was in its proper place and that his gloves were secure he left his room to begin handing out duties to the rest of the household staff. Contrary to what some people might think he did not do all the chores and jobs by himself. He simply did as much as he could without overexerting himself and then handed out whatever was left over to the rest of the staff based on their specialties. Thinking for a moment he was gratified to realize that today would be a slow day compared to others, with only a few things requiring his personal attention. That would be good since today would either be the best day this mansion had seen in over a decade or it would turn his employers into mere shells of what they were now.

It was the final day of the week that Alexander had given his employers to convince him that he was in fact that he was actually their son. While he had not read the medical files or spoken with the doctors, he trusted that those who'd compared what was on file for Master Bruce and Mister Harris had done a competent job when they sought their conclusions. If they were convinced that Xander was Bruce then that was good enough for him. However, much like he suspected Mister Wayne and his wife had, he realized that being the heir to the Wayne family fortune in body was one thing but being so in mind was another thing altogether. Thus he had done what he could to aid in his employer's efforts to jog the lad's memories either by cooking the meals young Bruce had enjoyed as a boy or finding ways to reintroduce old discussions that had importance.

A bit difficult considering that they were all discussions involving topics both safe for a child to have and simplified to keep said child from getting confused but he prided himself on his resourcefulness.

Sadly, based on the expression on his employer's faces after they returned from the theatre, it look like their last ditch effort at awakening the lost memories had ended. Still, it looked as though Master Thomas still intended to aid the young man however he could, even if it meant ensuring that young Xander never found out.

A poor substitute for the glorious reunion that'd been hoped for but, unless a miracle happened, it would have to do.

Time passed as he went about his duties, checking in with the new security force on the property as needed, but eventually the time came to begin preparing breakfast for Xander and the Waynes. It was then, as he entered the kitchen, that he saw something that made him pause and simply stare at the sight before him. Standing in front of the shelves with the various ingredients he used was Xander Harris but, while the lad's presence alone was odd the fact that the young man seemed transfixed on the container in his hand was stranger still.

"Is there something wrong, Alexander?" he asked, seemingly snapping the lad out of his focused state.

"Wrong? Not really," Alexander replied as he put the container on the table. "Didn't sleep very well last night. Had a lot on my mind."

"I imagine having an uncertain future ahead of you would make it difficult to sleep," he said, knowing that rebuilding one's life after calamity was not easy. "At least you won't have to worry about Miss Rosenberg. Master Wayne made it clear that he would do all he could to help her regardless of the week's outcome."

"There is that, I guess," Alexander said as he walked over to the nearby window. "Still, it's funny how life sometimes goes. You live through the years, you start feeling like you know the score and you make plans for the life you want to have. Then out of nowhere Fate decides to bop you on the head, throwing everything out of whack."

Hoping that he was reading it right but not wanting to spook the prey, he kept his face neutral.

"The one constant, young sir, is that no one ever knows the score and you almost never see the big life changes coming. All you can do is take each day as it comes and do your best to guide it in the direction you want it to go," he said, giving Alexander the same advice his father had given him long ago. "You might not get the future you want but with a little luck you could wind up getting something even better."

"I don't know whether to be optimistic or depressed," Alexander said with a half smile on his face. "I never liked the idea of Destiny and Fate because it sounded too much like we couldn't control how our lives turned out. It meant that there were no possibilities. Just a set path for you to follow whether you liked it or not."

"I prefer to think of Destiny to be a lot like the sciences, Alexander. You might need to accept the fact that there are certain laws that can't be changed, certain limits that can't be exceeded, but that doesn't mean you still can't make something impressive with it," he said reassuringly, trying to nurture the half smile into a full one.

"You could be right at that," Alexander said and, while the young man's mood wasn't completely improved upon, it was still a fair sight better than it'd been when he'd first walked in. "I still have some more thinking to do so I'm gonna hook up with Mercy and take a stroll around the grounds. Should be back in time for breakfast."

Mentally calculating how long a leisurely stroll would take as well as when Mister and Missus Wayne would be up expecting their morning meals, he planned his preparations accordingly.

"Oh, and Alfred?" Alexander asked as he stopped at the door leading outside.

"Yes, Alexander?" he asked, figuring the lad was going to submit a request for his breakfast meal.

"You might want to find a better hiding place for that from now on," Alexander replied as he resumed walking, "I don't think the old one is going to work anymore."

It was a puzzling statement but as he turned to look at the container that Alexander had been holding when he'd walked in, a possibility struck him like a lightning bolt. With speed that he'd not used since his old days in the SAS he moved to the table and picked up the container before turning it around so that he could see what it was.

Condensed milk.

All at once he remembered how years ago, before young Master Wayne had been kidnapped, the boy had repeatedly tried to get the container of condensed milk. It wasn't for any specific reason he suspected other than the fact that the adults seemed determined to keep it away from him. Eventually he'd simply put the container on the top of the ingredient bookshelf since the boy was too short to reach it even if he pulled a chair over to stand on. Of course this didn't stop young Bruce from trying for a few weeks but, after ten failed attempts and five lectures from his parents, the boy eventually gave up.

However it wasn't the bit of nostalgia that had him smiling to the point it almost hurt or cause tears to begin trickling down from his eyes.

No.

It was the fact that if he took the conversation he'd just had and combined it with the revelation that Alexander remembered the struggles to get the condensed milk, then it could only mean one thing.

Not only did this prove beyond any doubt that Alexander was Bruce Wayne but the lad now believed it as well.

At long last the Wayne family was reunited!

A small part of him pointed out that there'd still be a period of adjustment involved as well as some therapy but he didn't care.

All that mattered was that Bruce Wayne had returned and before long all would be as it should've been before that horrible day on the monorail.

This calls for my best breakfast EVER! he thought before springing into action, ideas and plans going off like firecrackers in his mind.

He hadn't felt this energized in a long time.

En Route to City Hall

Xander's POV

What does a man do when he finds out the life that was meant to be his had been taken from him and was only returned after spending time as someone completely different?

He didn't quite have an answer to that yet, not a complete one, so he decided he'd just take things one day at a time and hope for the best.

In the case of today it was to head downtown to get the official identification papers either updated or created before swinging by the local DMV to get his learner's permit. He'd been planning to get one before Sunnydale was destroyed but kept procrastinating since the odds of him having a car he could drive on a regular basis was iffy at best. Tony used the family car the most and since he was often either at work or the local bar, the opportunity to use it was few in number. He'd read the book that the DMV gave out that stated the basic rules of the road, what you could do and what you couldn't do, and as far as the rest was concerned he figured it'd be like driving a go-cart.

So long as he stayed in the right lane, obeyed both the traffic lights as well as the speed limit and kept an eye out for people, he should have no trouble getting the learner's permit.

Now some people might ask why would he need to learn how to drive when you have a butler who can take you wherever you want to go in a limo?

The answer to that was that he was still getting used to the idea of even HAVING a butler, never mind being driven everywhere by said butler. The nightmare he'd had after going to the theatre might've shoved some old pre-kidnapped memories into his face but that still didn't a rich boy make him. He still had far more memories of being a middle-class teenager and in that sort of life you did things for yourself and considering others doing it for you to be a favor or a rare luxury. So for him getting his learner's permit and eventually his real driver's license was a definite must especially since the fantasy oriented part of his mind was dreaming up images of fast sports cars.

After all what was the point of being a rich kid if you couldn't drive around in ridiculously expensive sports cars that you'd never have been able to afford.

After the learner's permit was obtained... according to Thomas (he still wasn't entirely comfortable attaching the label 'Dad' to the man yet) they wouldn't be able to keep a lid on his 'big return' forever, especially once his files at city hall were updated. There were apparently enough people in that building who didn't mind blabbing to the media in exchange for cash that news of Bruce Wayne returning was sure to get out within the next forty-eight hours. Once that happened, every reporter, photographer and camera person in Gotham would be on the lookout for him since his return would be a HUGE scoop. So basically, unless he decided he wanted to be a recluse and never leave Wayne Manor, they had two choices: hold a massive press conference inviting everyone or have a party with some friends of the Wayne family and only invite the reporters they trusted and respected. Having no experience in the field of managing the press, he'd let Thomas make the call that turned out to be the gathering at Wayne Manor with friends and handpicked members of the press.

Fortunately for him it wouldn't be until tomorrow night since it'd require at least that much time for the security firm to prepare for so many extra bodies floating about the grounds. That and the decorations, the catering service, giving Alfred time to work his magic and having a top tailor make him a suit. With all his clothes destroyed when Sunnydale went boom he didn't exactly have the right attire for a party involving the filthy rich. Personally he wouldn't mind just buying an off the rack tuxedo and leave it at that but apparently Martha was insistent on making up for lost time as a mother. That meant that while she was willing to settle on just the tuxedo for the time being, it was her intention to take him shopping at all the right places until his closets were bursting with clothes.

He didn't care who they were, NO guy liked being dragged into shopping for clothes with his… his mother.

Not that he liked shopping for clothes when he was by himself.

To him they were a necessity that could be fulfilled in twenty minutes maximum but to a woman… well, maybe not ALL women, but definitely a lot of them making a full wardrobe could take the better part of a day. He was so tempted to try to haggle her down to just the bare essentials for their joint trip and say he'd get the rest on an as needed basis but seeing the look on her face he just couldn't do it.

Fortunately Martha agreed to wait until after the get together for the joint shopping trip so all he'd have to endure later today was standing still while a talented tailor got all his measurements. He didn't know if this'd be the type of tailor that literally created your suit around your body as you stood there or just took numerous measurements before telling you when the suit'd be ready. Personally he'd prefer it be the former if for no other reason than to just get it all over with but if it turned out to be the latter, he'd cope as best he could.

Feeling the limo pull up to the curb, he looked out and saw your typical big city seat of power building with Roman pillars and some bits of the gothic style of architecture thrown in where appropriate. To him it showed that the building had remained mostly unchanged since the fifties, most likely with only a few modifications to accommodate any building codes or new inventions. Alfred soon opened the rear passenger-side door, as was his duty as the chauffer, allowing Thomas to be the first out followed by him and Martha.

As he'd figured the security team that'd gone ahead of them was arrayed about the area, keeping an eye out for any sign of trouble, with only Mercy and two others within ten feet of the limo.

"Status, Mister Grant?" Thomas asked the head of the security detail present.

"All clear, Mister Wayne," Grant replied after pressing one finger to his earpiece. "No visible ranged weapons and my people will keep an eye on the foot traffic out here while the rest of us head indoors."

"Good. Let's get going," Thomas said before the three security specialists took up a triangle formation around the newly reunited Wayne family.

As he trotted along inside the formation he could see that a lot of civilians were gawking at the people in suits and some of them probably knew who Thomas and Martha were. Once they got inside the building the number of people who'd know or suspect something was up would also increase and then it'd be up to individual self-control to determine how fast the news would break. He hoped it'd last until after they were safely back in the limo and on their way but with his kind of luck the media would be waiting the moment they set foot outside city hall.

Methinks learning to become a master of disguise, escape and evasion is going to be a must for me, he thought as they entered the building to fill out the headache that was paperwork.

Gotham University

Women's Dorm Room

"THAT SONUVABITCH!" came an exclamation of fury from behind her, causing her to whip her head around to see what'd set her roommate ablaze emotionally speaking.

Seeing as how V was glaring at the television, she adjusted her gaze to see the outside of Gotham City Hall where two very recognizable people and one stranger were being escorted through a crowd of press by bodyguards. It wasn't until she read the description at the bottom of the screen that she realized why what she was seeing was so important.

'Bruce Wayne returns'

Combining that with the presence of Thomas and Martha Wayne for added credibility and you had a media nuke being detonated at the center of the city. She just knew that within the hour she'd get a call from Hector telling her to drop every other story she was working on for the university newspaper and focus entirely on Bruce Wayne.

Not a chore considering how easy on the eyes he is, she thought, letting herself act her age for a moment before becoming an aspiring reporter once more.

However this didn't explain why V was throwing up such a fuss.

"What's wrong?" she asked as she got out of the chair by her desk and walked over to her roommate.

"HIM! You remember when I told you that I'd heard that the Waynes were going around town and figured out where they were going next?" V asked, still angry but not quite as eruptive as before.

"Yeah. You came back to the dorm pissed because your camera broke after some guy startled you, causing you to fall out of some bush," she replied, remembering the day the blonde had returned quite well.

"Well HE is THAT guy!" V said, pointing to the TV that currently was completely focused on the young man who looked to be in his mid-to-late teens if she was any judge.

She almost didn't connect the dots until the news station posted a photo that was obviously taken for city records purposes, making her wonder just how quickly the city hall employee must've been to fax it over to the TV station. With the name 'Bruce Wayne' beneath the picture she now knew why V was so pissed because she would be too if it'd happened to her. To not only be responsible for breaking a very expensive camera but also BEING the biggest story of the year and not telling V about it was definitely grounds for outraged ranting.

"Okay, now I get it but you need to calm down," she said, trying to keep a rant that could be cooking inside her roommate from being brought out. "We both want to become ace reporters and one of skills every ace reporter needs is the ability to keep their cool even when we want to do everything but that. Losing your cool means you're unprofessional and no one's going to hire an unprofessional reporter except maybe the tabloids. You want that?"

"No," V replied after taking a few deep breaths to calm herself, "but I definitely want to get even with him for making a fool out of me… and ruining my camera."

"Then keep yours eyes open and your ears sharp, Vicki Vale, and you'll get your chance." She let a grin blossom on her face. "So long as you're willing to share the byline, of course."

"Okay but my name goes first when the story goes to print," Vicki said, making it clear she would not budge on that point.

"No problem," she said, not particularly caring since the story was going to be so big that being number two on the byline would still be good for her resume.

"Any ideas on how to get even?" Vicki asked, sounding like she wanted to get to work immediately rather than wait.

"Well, seeing as how there was no lead up to this in the papers or on TV, I doubt the Waynes planned this. Mister Wayne's never been a big fan of the media either, so he probably planned on something smaller and low key," she posited, trying to recall everything she could about one of the richest men in Gotham City. "Probably some kind of get together at Wayne Manor. Small guest list and even smaller number of reporters handpicked by him. THAT will be our way in."

"What do you mean? Wayne Manor is crawling with security guards!" Vicki exclaimed, clearly not liking the less than stellar sounding plan.

"They'll be looking for intruders. So we won't be intruders," she said, enjoying the unveiling of her plan bit by bit.

The fact that she was making everything up as she spoke didn't matter.

"I happen to have a few 'friends' at some of the high class catering businesses in Gotham," she said, grinning as the plan seemed to come together in her mind. "For a minor fee I can persuade whichever one Mister Wayne hires to loan us two uniforms AND give us a ride past the front gates of Wayne Manor."

"Won't it be suspicious when we don't have a clue what we're doing?" Vicki asked, sounding a little more confident in the plan.

"We'll just do our best and if anyone asks, we're new to the job. That should give us some leeway," she replied, not worried about that detail. "We'll probably have to work for a while before the party gets started but once it does all we'll have to do is bide our time until Bruce Wayne bows out for the night and then we POUNCE!"

"What makes you think he's going to leave the party?" Vicki asked, sounding like she approved of the plan overall but was worried about the details.

"Simple. Wherever he's been and whatever he's been through has probably saddled him with some PTSD. That means crowds and questions to be kept to a minimum until he's recovered," she replied, trying to sound more confident than she was with her diagnosis. "His parents will probably keep him around for an hour or two to let people get a good look at him and answer a few questions but after that he'll be able to leave whenever he wants. We just wait for him to leave and then casually follow him out giving the excuse that we need to use the washroom or something."

"And if security catches us before we can catch Bruce?" Vicki asked, pointing out a real possibility depending on how tight manor security would be.

"We say we got lost in such a BIG mansion and if necessary reiterate that we're new to the catering business," she replied, feeling certain that unless the security forces were heavily paranoid it'd work out. "They'll probably just escort us back to the rest of the catering staff or to the nearest washroom if that's where we say we were trying to go while they wait outside."

"And then what?" Vicki asked, sounding displeased at the prospect of them getting caught and losing what'd likely be their only chance to speak with Bruce Wayne.

"First we look about to see if the bathroom has a window. We can squeeze through that and try to get back into the manor someplace else where there aren't as many guards." She figured that the Waynes couldn't have a security force that was big enough to cover every nook and cranny. There was rich and prepared but there was also rich and paranoid and she didn't figure them for that. Not yet, anyway. "With a bit of luck we can track Wayne down. We can increase that luck if we can get ahold of the plans for Wayne Manor so we can find out where his room probably is."

She watched as a wicked smile appeared on Vicki's face and she knew instantly where her roommate's mind had gone.

"Get your mind out of the gutter. We're only going to ask questions and nothing but questions," she said sternly even though internally she was amused by the images her mind came up with. He was cute and a teenaged boy, after all. "If you want to make a play for him, do in on your own time."

"Oh c'mon! It'd be fun!" Vicki declared with playfulness. "It's not like he'd say no. What guy wouldn't want two beautiful and sexy women in his bedroom?"

"You can't be serious!" she said with a bit of incredulity as she tried to mentally figure out how serious her roommate was.

Vicki just smiled playfully at her with something that COULD have been lust in her eyes but then the spell broke and the blonde flopped back on the bed, laughing her head off.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! You should see the look on your face! HAHAHAHAHA!" Vicki said between laughs that apparently got so bad she had to clutch her stomach. "Like I'd ever screw a guy I don't know just because he's the richest guy in Gotham! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Only a little annoyed at the fact that she'd even been partially fooled into believing that her roommate would drag her into a threesome with Bruce Wayne, she got off the bed and decided to get the ball rolling for the expected gathering. However just before she left the room she got an idea and schooled her features into the proper expression.

"I notice you didn't say anything against getting into a threesome with me and some guy," she said with a raised eyebrow of inquiry.

This stopped Vicki from laughing any more, a look of awkwardness and anxiety appearing on her face.

"If you can find the right guy…" she said, letting a little sexual playfulness enter her voice, "…I'm game if you are."

With that she left the room while mentally counting down from five.

"SUMMER!" Vicki yelled, letting the entire dorm floor as well as those right outside the window know that Gleeson had won another verbal sparring match.

Wayne Manor

Bruce Wayne's Room

Xander's POV

"I look good, you've given me some tips on what to do and the right answers to the questions I'll be asked and I STILL feel like I just want to hide in my room 'til they all go home," he said as he looked at himself in the mirror even as Martha made sure his tie was straight.

"Don't worry. You'll do fine," Martha said before taking a step back to look at him. "All the reporters Tom invited are professionals who value the truth more than fame and fortune. They've also shown remarkable tact in what they choose to put in their stories and what they choose to omit."

He had to admit that if what she said was true then they could be trusted not to be too slimy with their questions and would probably stick to the facts with their story. Sadly he was a product of his generation and that meant that in movies and TV shows there were reporters who'd do anything to mark their place in history. There was no low they wouldn't stoop to get a scoop and they didn't care who got hurt as a result of that scoop so long as they reaped the positive benefits. As a result he'd been more than a little wary of talking to reporters or even letting them get a good look at him for fear that they'd twist everything he said or did into something else for juicier headlines.

Still, the Waynes didn't strike him as fools and if they trusted the reporters they brought in tonight, then he'd try to give them the benefit of a doubt.

I just hope it's not as bad as the way it was outside of city hall, he thought, remembering the ambush all too well. Some of the questions were completely fucked up.

Everything from where he'd been, to what he'd been doing and some looking for confirmation on a rumor about him being betrothed to some princess from a country called Vlatava. Not knowing what to do he'd just kept his mouth shut and worked with the Waynes to make their way to the limo as swiftly as possible. Once they'd safely gotten away Thomas had told him that when it came to the media there were times when the right course of action was to ignore them and other times when you had to give them facts before they found ones they liked the taste of. In the case of the city hall ambush keeping quiet and vacating the scene was the right course of action because they needed time to fabricate prepared statements.

Now, though, tonight, they had to give the facts they wanted the people of Gotham to know while keeping the rest a secret.

"Here's hoping it's enough to satisfy'em," he said, taking one final look at his reflection. "Let's get the show on the road."

With that they left his room and he began to review the prepared facts.

When they asked where he'd been he'd tell them that since his abduction he'd been living in Sunnydale with no memory of his life as Bruce Wayne. Fortunately Thomas was a good enough doctor that he'd been able to come up with a psychological reason for this that fit the facts as they knew them so the press wouldn't find things fishy. He'd memorized the broad strokes of it all and had to admit that it did fit together rather seamlessly. When they asked about what sort of life he'd led until recently, he'd paint himself as your stereotypical California teenager: school, hanging out with his friends and spent time at the nearby beach. He wouldn't tell them about Tony and Jessica Harris. He wouldn't tell them how the town had been a hotspot of supernatural activity. He wouldn't tell them ANYTHING that wasn't painfully ordinary and commonplace.

He didn't think that they'd take tales of demons and vampires very well.

As far as his friends were concerned he'd keep their names to himself but he'd describe them as close as he dared without giving the reporters enough clues to dig up the truth. LL and Willow didn't need reporters hounding them, especially his best bud given the bad shape she was in. LL would have enough trouble settling into whatever town or city her parents wound up moving to without people shoving microphones in her face. Willow wasn't even conscious to defend herself physically or verbally, and even if she had been he would never let anyone harass her without SEVERE repercussions.

The rest of those he called friends… hopefully they were in heaven enjoying the good stuff because that was what they deserved.

Walking towards the great hall where the Waynes held most of their big get togethers he heard the reporters and high society types before he saw them. He might not be able to hear what they were saying but he could guess the topic of discussion.

Him.

Plus, given the sort of things he'd overheard Cordy talking about in the halls, he expected to hear more of the same soon.

It only took a couple of minutes before they arrived at the big doors and the security personnel opened it to reveal a room that screamed money and elegance. Inside was an assortment of people all dressed in clothes that probably cost them most of their monthly paycheck to buy and all of them turned at the sound of new arrivals.

Then the noise picked up with clapping hands and words of welcome.

This was quickly matched with a lot of them moving forward for a closer look or probably to shake hands.

Fortunately Mercy and a few other security guards were quick to position themselves so that getting stuck in a sea of bodies wouldn't happen.

"Sorry for the obstructions, folks, but given past problems… better safe then sorry." Thomas said with a polite smile as he took up a position on the left.

"Understandable, Tom," Commissioner Loeb said lending his support. "I'd do the same in your position."

"Thank you. Now, while I'd hoped to reveal the big secret here, as you know someone let the cat out of the bag at city hall causing the secret to come out there," Thomas said, addressing the crowd as a whole. "Many of you remember what happened all those years ago when slave traders came to Gotham to kidnap its citizens in order to sell them for profit to whoever would pay the highest price. While most of those taken captive were rescued some were not… including my son. While we could not bring back those lost to senseless violence, Fate has given me a great gift: it as returned my son to me."

This brought about another round of cheers and clapping hands as the guests voiced their own joy. He knew they were just being polite because there was no way that any of them could feel anything for him since they'd never spoken to one another before. Hell, he doubted that they meant it where Thomas and Martha Wayne were concerned! So he just filed it under background noise.

"I truly wish it had come under better circumstances. As some of you may have heard a couple of days ago my wife and I left Gotham for California in an unannounced trip. Some of you speculated that the disaster in Sunnydale was the cause and you would be right," Thomas said, continuing his address to the crowd. "It was through those search and rescue efforts that my son was discovered. I am still looking into how he could've been hidden there for so long but such answers can wait. My son has been returned to me. That is all that matters."

Cue the applause.

"Now I'm sure all of you have questions," Thomas said, deciding it was best to move things along. "So I'm going to open the floor to questions and then we can enjoy the delicious food and drink. Who's first?"

Naturally this brought up a ton of hands but eventually the C.E.O. of Wayne Enterprises picked one out of the crowd.

"Mister Knox," Thomas said, pointing to the man with the brown hair and passable tuxedo.

"What were your living conditions like, Bruce?" Knox asked, catching the attention of the rest of the press and guests.

Figures I'd get the hard questions right off the bat, he thought. "About what you'd expect for a middle class teenager living in California. Had a roof over my head, food in the refrigerator and I went to school five days a week before hanging out with my friends for the weekend."

"And you had no memory of Gotham, your parents or anything prior to your abduction?" Knox asked, sneaking in another question before Thomas could give someone else a shot.

"No. Growing up I'd heard of the Wayne family from the news but I never felt any connection to them," he replied, measuring his words before he spoke them. "I never had any reason to doubt who I was and where I came from."

"What changed?" Knox asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"The world. My hometown got turned into a pile of burning rubble. People I'd known all my life died," he said, feeling his emotions begin to slip from his control. "Then my parents found me, spinning a tale that had only existed in movies and TV shows. I didn't believe it at first but after coming back to Gotham with them… things happened and I realized they were telling the truth."

Before Knox could fire off another question the rest of the assembled press began speaking up in an effort to drown him out as well as force Thomas to pick another reporter.

"Miss Kahn from the Daily Planet," Thomas said, pointing at a glasses wearing brunette who was standing off to the right.

"What are your plans now that you're back?" Miss Kahn asked with notepad in hand and pencil ready to write.

"Well, aside from getting used to going from digging for spare change between couch cushions to picking what flashy car I want to drive, I'll probably try to finish up my high school education," he replied going with honesty rather than fabrication. "After that we'll see."

"Do you intend to take your father's place as C.E.O. of Wayne Enterprises one day?" Miss Kahn asked, causing some of the guests to whisper and buzz a bit.

"Maybe. Depends on my grades and what my dreams are at the time," he replied honestly, having considered going into the family business but not feeling the need to commit to it.

"Did anyone else you know survive the Sunnydale disaster?" Miss Kahn asked after she finished writing something down on her notepad.

Hearing this question reminded him of those that'd died.

Giles, Jesse's parents, Principle Flutie… that hottie Miss Calendar.

Remembering those that survived didn't entirely brighten his mood because, while L.L was hale and hearty, his best bud of all time Willow was still lacking in the awake department.

"A few. I'm the only one who came to Gotham so we'll be out of touch until they can send me their new addresses," he replied, keeping things honest but keeping any important details to himself.

This seemed to pacify Miss Kahn for the time being because she didn't fire off another question his way.

From there they continued to go through the list of reporters that'd been invited to the party and answered some questions from the guests who he figured were either big business tycoons or old money rich people. For the most part the questions were pretty much what Thomas had told him to expect but he should've known things were going a little too smoothly when one particular reporter smiled like Larry used to right before tearing a geek to shreds.

"Any truth to the rumors that the entire 'kidnapping' was just a charade? The first part in a big power play by Wayne Enterprises to corner the markets in Europe through an arranged marriage with one of the royal families there?" the man asked, making it sound like he was exposing insider trading or a night gone bad with a couple of call girls.

"How dare you!?" Thomas exclaimed, clearly outraged by the idea that he'd use his own son in such a manner.

"Forget this guy, Dad," he said, knowing that the first step to beating a bully was not to rise to the bait the caveman dangled in front of you. "His entire theory is crazy. Fake a kidnapping to ship me off to someplace in Europe to marry a princess? Please, like the nobles in any country would stand for such a thing. Everyone knows that for those people if you don't have royal or noble blood in your veins you're immediately off the list of potential husbands."

He could tell from the expressions on the other guests that they too were leaning towards considering the guy's theory garbage.

"Really? According to my sources the Vlatavan royal family made an unscheduled stop during their return home to a small retreat that hadn't been used in decades. Right around the time of your 'abduction'," the reporter said, unwilling to give up on his theory. "Apparently there's some 'discussion' going on about the line of succession and the financial future of the country. Something that'd be solved by marrying the heir to one of the richest families in America as well as someone pretty much locked in to sit in the big chair at Wayne Enterprises."

"Really? Your 'sources'? That's the best you can do?" he asked rhetorically, making it clear with his body language that he had a low opinion of the man's words. "If you even had a leg to stand on I'm sure Mister Knox or Miss Kahn would've at least heard something about it themselves but from the looks of things they're as clueless as I am about this so-called secret meeting."

"Then what about THIS!?" the 'reporter' asked, taking out of his coat pocket a piece of paper unrolled to reveal a long list of phone numbers. "A series of calls over a three year period from Wayne Manor to the country of Kaznia. What's more a little digging showed the number being dialed to have an insane level of security placed on it. Perhaps a call to someone important in that country? King Gustav himself or perhaps simply a middle man so things could be kept low profile? I hear Princess Audrey has become quite the attractive young woman. You'd make a cute couple."

"Look, buddy, seeing as how my Dad handpicked every reporter and guest here I doubt he would've chosen a sleazeball like you," he said, beginning to get irritated with the man, "so unless you can provide your invitation, something everyone who was invited should still have, I'm going to have to ask security to see you to the front gate."

"What's the matter, Wayne? Afraid you'll lose your castle?" the man asked, clearly not afraid of being exposed as a party crasher. "Being the uncrowned 'prince of Gotham' isn't good enough?"

"First of all I was raised middle class all the way so the most I ever expected to be was the manager of my own business with a home, a wife and a child," he replied, annoyance changing to mild anger. "Second, unless you've got recordings that prove otherwise, those calls could've just as easily been business related instead of personal. Third: Only the most PATHETIC reporters put any stock in facts they can't prove. Guess when you couldn't get hired to a REPUTABLE newspaper you went fishing in the tabloid pond."

Like most bullies once their statements were turned into Swiss cheese by the truth they had nothing to fall back on except their anger.

"Keep talking, Wayne. Keep talking 'cause sooner or later you're going to screw up and when you do I'M gonna be there to catch it all on film!" the yellow reporter growled even as security moved to escort him off the premises. "Rich boys like you think you can do anything you want then have Daddy grease the right palms to make it all go away. Mark my words, money isn't going to be enough to protect you as long as I'm around!"

With that the angry bully stormed off, yanking his arm free of a security guard who attempted to forcibly guide him to the door.

The damage had been done, though.

His mood as far as the party was concerned had been dimmed and unless something good happened to pep him up he'd likely slip out as early as he could to head back to his room.

"Don't let that idiot get you down. There's one of them in every crowd of reporters," Thomas said, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You just have to have faith that enough of the people here will see the truth and ignore that gust of vile air."

"We'll know tomorrow when the newspapers hit the stands," he said with a grin that was only half forced. "Until then I guess it's time we mingle for a bit. Hope I don't put my foot in my mouth too often."

"Don't worry. Just keep things short and to the point and you should be fine," Thomas said before giving him a little nudge in the direction of the guests.

Short and to the point.

He could do that.

Summer Gleeson's POV

"Looks like Ronnie the Robber's looking to add another conquest to her list," she whispered even as she continued to walk about the room with the serving tray of filled champagne glasses in her hands.

"I swear, she might pretend to be all superior and high class but she's a complete nympho if ever I saw one." Vicki whispered with a bit of an edge.

Couldn't argue the point there since it was a popular rumor that popped up often in the Gotham Tabloids and other places where gossipers went for dirt. While officially Veronica Vreeland was the ideal high society girl and the darling girl of General Vreeland, the unofficial stories about her told a different story. One of teenage rebellion, of using her looks and 'feminine wiles' to wrap every eligible bachelor around her little finger, and spreading her legs every time she got that particular 'itch' that needed scratching. To the redhead's credit she wasn't stupid about her sexual sessions and always made sure she had enough blackmail material on her bed partners to make sure they wouldn't fuck and tell. Some of them she dated for a couple of months but either they couldn't keep her entertained in bed after awhile or she spotted some guy she liked even more and dumped the man she was with.

It was looking like she'd set her sights on Bruce Wayne being her next catch of the day.

Looking at the redhead, she could see the interaction going down a checklist like someone was screaming it out for everyone to hear. First came the sexy saunter up to the Wayne heir with eyes locked onto his for the entire approach. Then came the polite introductions of who she was and to which surprisingly Bruce did the cliché taking her hand and kissing it before saying he was pleased to meet her. This act, of course, probably made Ronnie think that her sexy saunter was having the desired effect and that only a little more prompting was required to get Bruce Wayne on her hook. So a little chit-chat was made, some polite if annoying laughter at something Bruce said, then things moved on to Veronica starting to invade the man's personal space.

She could tell right from the beginning that Bruce Wayne, however he'd been living in Sunnydale, was not use to being on the receiving end of such intimate advances. Not sure why that was because now that she was seeing him in person she had to admit that he was easy on the eyes and if he wasn't so completely out of her league she might even agree to date him. There was the nervous step back, the polite if slightly shaky smile while attempting to politely turn Ronnie down AANNNNDD THERE was the fake 'I think I am needed over there' excuse before Bruce WALKED away.

VERY quickly. Any quicker and it might have been considered a lope.

"Well at least he's smarter than most of the men Ronnie goes after," Vicki whispered the next time they got close enough to talk.

"More like he has a decent survival instinct," she whispered back, her eyes never leaving Bruce Wayne.

"Looks like he plans on making himself scarce until Ronnie's found another victim to latch onto," Vicki said, seeing Bruce making his way for the nearest door out of the room. "Follow?"

"Follow," she replied as she casually began to make her way to a door that should get them to the same hallway.

She knew that the security detail for the Wayne estate would be watching the son of the boss pretty closely so they had to maintain a certain distance for a while until the right opportunity to approach the heir for their own interview. It took some doing but fortunately it wasn't long before both their trays were completely lacking in champagne glasses so they had an excuse for leaving the room. Nodding at the security guards by the door they were allowed to leave without hindrance and, once the doors fully shut behind them, she immediately began walking in the direction she figured Bruce had gone in.

As they proceeded along she was pleased to see that, while there was the odd smattering of suits with guns and earpiece communications gear, the Waynes apparently hadn't had time to install security cameras. That meant that as long as she and Vicki exercised some stealth and peeked before turning a corner, they could avoid being spotted while still keeping track of their target.

What made her think they could out stealth and out sneak trained security guards that looked like they cost a lot of money to hire? Well, the fact that she had brothers that targeted her for all manner of unpleasant pranks growing up, which necessitated being able to evade them without making a sound. Considering the fact that there were four of them she'd been forced to become VERY good in order to have any chance of hiding from them. It didn't always work but thankfully she'd been able to save up enough money to be able to go to any college in the country, so she moved to Gotham and from that day forward never had to worry about her siblings ever again. Even when the family holidays came along she made sure that she had some sort of important excuse on hand to keep her in Gotham and her family elsewhere. She'd passed on a few of her tricks to Vicki for the times when she wanted to avoid members of the faculty or the 'in crowd' that never passed up a chance to tell the blonde what she wasn't and what they were.

Bit by bit they crept and, fortunately for them, Bruce didn't seem inclined to walk at more than a casual pace to get wherever he was going.

The problems popped up when they reached the wide open stair areas where it'd be much easier to spot two caterer employees walking about or, in this case, sneaking. Peeking as much as she dared while avoiding the panning gazes of the security guards in the area, she noticed that a window at the top of the stairs on the second floor of the building was open. Whipping her head this way and that to see where the nearest ways out were, she was pleased to see a door that'd take them to the right side of the building. Gesturing to Vicki she crept her way over to it and, with the utmost care to keep the noise to a minimum, opened it up wide enough for two fit females to slip through.

Once outside she looked for the open window and was happy to see that there was a wooden scaffold of sorts beneath it that looked like it could be safely climbed. It'd still take something of a leap to reach the open window but, so long as neither she nor Vicki made any noise, getting inside through it was still worth trying. Checking for security guards, she could see one turning a corner and another facing away, speaking with someone through his com-piece. Deciding that they weren't going to have a better opportunity, she motioned to Vicki before dashing for the scaffolding, glad that she'd chosen to wear practical footwear rather than heels. Climbing up as swiftly as she could without causing the wood to creak, she soon reached the top and, after a bit of guesswork concerning effort, leapt for the open window, suppressing the grunt as her body impacted the side of the manor. Pulling herself up so she could peek up over the bottom of the window, she couldn't see any guards close by and Bruce was just about to slip out of sight. Pulling herself up through she played lookout until Vicki did the same but, once both were inside as well as on their feet, they crept after Bruce hoping his destination wasn't too much farther.

It was nerve wracking.

It was a RUSH!

Aside from making sure people were kept informed about the world around them, THIS was one of the reasons she wanted to get into journalism; the thrill of piecing together a story either through research or 'investigating' areas where some people would prefer you not be. Sure, people often told her that those kinds of people were dangerous and that it was better to play it safe but they didn't see what she saw. Gotham was sinking into darkness and criminals held more power over what went on in the city than elected officials. Someone needed to do something, to expose the truth, and that was something she'd chosen as a calling. She wasn't stupid enough to think that she could wipe out crime entirely with the stories she'd write but, even if she could only make the scum of the city up their games, she'd be satisfied.

It turned out to be another five minutes before Bruce Wayne finally chose a room to enter but it took seven before she and Vicki could approach it since they had to duck into another room until a patrol of security guards passed by and got out of earshot. Still, both of them had the goal of a private and exclusive interview with the newly returned heir of Gotham's richest family, so they considered the effort they'd put into it well worth the effort. Creeping up to the door, she tested the door handle to see if it'd been locked from the inside while they'd been hiding from the guard patrol.

It hadn't.

With a smile and thumbs up to Vicki, she turned the doorknob and pushed the door open…

…to see Bruce Wayne lounging on a couch wearing sweat pants and a T-shirt, looking right at the two of them while not looking surprised in the least at their arrival.

"Miss Vale. Miss Gleeson. Good job at the tailing," Bruce said with a lopsided grin on his face. "If it wasn't for the hidden cameras and the ear-com I have, I'd have never seen you coming."

This took some of the wind out of her sails and out of the corner of her eye she could see Vicki getting a little angry at being played.

"Now I believe you want an interview with me and, despite the warnings of my bodyguard Miss Graves, I've decided to let you have one," he said, gesturing to two vacant chairs. "Just use some tact with your questions and try not to be like that asshat accusing me of being betrothed to European royalty."

"Not a problem, Mister Wayne," she said, deciding to take things in stride as she sat down on the closest chair.

"Please, call me Bruce," he said, never losing his grin.

It looked good on him.

Wayne Manor

Xander's POV

"I still think you should've allowed me to search them before letting them into your room," Mercy said, sounding like she thought he'd been reckless not to do so.

"Why Mercy, I didn't know you swung that way!" he exclaimed in mock surprise before chuckling at the temporary shock and blush that appeared on the blonde's face.

Temporary since it was soon gone to be replaced with a glare that told him to drop it and take things more seriously.

"I knew who one of them was and Jerry at the camera screens ran a facial recognition on the other. They're college girls with dreams of becoming hotshot reporters," he said with a sigh of concession. "They're just trying to get their first big scoop. I didn't see the harm in letting them have it."

"They could've been here to kill you," Mercy pointed out, refusing to be so blasé about two intruders tailing him to his room.

"Unless you can show me some files that indicate missing time or security scans that indicate they were hiding something in those caterer outfits, I don't think so," he said before reaching for the remote control for the TV that Martha had gotten for his room.

Clicking it on, he surfed through the channels before finding something interesting.

"Some people don't need weapons to kill," Mercy said firmly, trying to get through to him.

"Please, Mercy. While we're away from the cameras and the outsiders you can call me Xander," he said, trying to get her to loosen up. "I agreed to go by Bruce Wayne out in public and in front of others because I didn't want people connecting me to LL or Willow. If they got the name Alexander LaVelle Harris it wouldn't take long for them to find out about Elisabeth Lance or Willow Rosenberg. I won't let that happen."

In an effort to win him over Thomas had walked him through all the steps he'd taken to get Willow the best medical care possible while also drawing attention to her in a way that'd get the curious to look her way. No facial pictures of her in any files attached to her and an alias put where the name went as well as other bits of fabricated information. Thomas had asked a friend of his at Wayne Enterprises, Lucius Fox, to devise a computer program that once inserted into the hospital's computer network would automatically redirect any searches for the alias' medical history to Willow's medical history. Luckily the man was a genius, so putting such a simplistic program out was hardly difficult and took very little time at all. All the doctors and specialists that'd been assigned to her case had been made to sign non-disclosure contracts with some pretty stiff consequences if they disclosed any patient data to unauthorized people. Lucius had even arranged for it so that Willow's computer files could only be accessed from inside the wing of the facility where she was being treated.

Nevertheless, he couldn't help but feel that there was some sort of weak point in their protection that could render all the rest useless.

"Then as your bodyguard, Xander, I really wish you'd be more aware of the dangers of being Bruce Wayne. Your father made it clear that he's worried that the people who kidnapped you before might try again," Mercy said, sounding stone cold serious. "I've reviewed the files on the man, David Cain, who took you from Gotham years ago. He's a world class mercenary specializing in assassination and he's proven that it doesn't matter how powerful you are because he can still kill you if that's what he's paid to do. I don't know if I can stop him or those like him but you won't make my job any easier with a devil may care attitude."

For a moment his anger rose within him but then he remembered all the times Giles had tried to convince the Slayer (someone he still couldn't clearly picture in his mind beyond female and in her teens) not to run all helter skelter into danger. Look, evaluate, plan and THEN get into the middle of things. As his anger faded he had to admit that the times that the Slayer had gone off half-cocked had almost ended in disaster whereas when they took the time to use their heads things went smoother.

Did he really want to be the idiot that caused trouble for others because he wasn't as careful as he should've been?

"I know but I can't spend the rest of my life waiting for some boogeyman from my past to pop up so you or the cops can put him behind bars," he said, trying to show that he understood her point of view. "I have to live my life! If you want me to be safe… maybe you could teach me a few moves?"

"You mean hand-to-hand combat?" she asked, looking a bit puzzled by the turn of events.

"Yeah. I mean, sure, it's gonna be years before I get good enough to stalemate you but if it keeps me alive long enough for you to pull my butt out of trouble then it'll be worth it." He was trying to keep things realistic.

"Well… I don't know if I'll be able to," she said as she looked to be considering the possibilities. "It'd be tough to be your bodyguard and teach you at the same time."

"Wwelllll… then I'll have dad find me a teacher," he said as he considered other options. "Hopefully someone who won't treat me with kid gloves just because I'm rich. If I'm gonna learn anything it'll be without people pulling their punches or sugarcoating the truth."

This seemed to please the woman and he figured that most of the rich people she'd guarded in the past had considered learning self-defense beneath them or were cowards. It was then he considered a possibility he had not thought of: Uncle Ted! He didn't know where his uncle was but he was sure that with Thomas' resources it wouldn't be too hard, and then all that'd be left to do was to come up with the right incentive. He knew from his memories that his uncle didn't put a huge amount of value on money, never asking for more than he needed, but he was sure he could come up with something.

"I'll ask around and see if any of the guys know someone who'd fit the bill," she said, looking like she'd let go of her harsh mood.

Of course just as he thought he was smooth sailing the door to the room reopened to reveal both Thomas and Martha, looking like they were half concerned half upset.

"Is everything okay here, Miss Graves?" Thomas asked, looking to the bodyguard.

"Yes it is, Mister Wayne," Mercy replied promptly without even a hint of uncertainty. "Just a… private interview your son decided to have with a pair of college newspaper reporters."

"I don't recall inviting any college reporters," Thomas said with a bit of disapproval in his voice.

This could turn out to be trouble if Thomas decided to make a whole big thing out of this and reported Vicki and Summer to the police. They were nice girls and didn't ask any out of the line questions. They even laughed at some of his jokes! They weren't even pretending! So the least he could do was try to cover their shapely butts from any unnecessary reprisals.

"That's 'cause I did," he said on the spur of the moment, putting his bullshitting talents to the test. "Remember that day in the park? Turns out we had a tail snapping pictures looking for the big scoop. I didn't know if it was anything to worry about so I didn't tell you right away. With some help from Mercy here I managed to track the shutterbug down and found out who she was, so I thought it'd be a good idea to invite her to the party."

"And why did you think it was a good idea? For that matter, if you invited her then why weren't we informed?" Martha asked with her hands on her hips in the universal disapproving mother position.

"Well to the first question I figured that since she was just getting into the whole journalism thing she probably still believed in the whole reporter integrity thing. Responsibility to the truth, the people have a right to know and the ethical use of the facts," he replied, really wondering how long he'd be able to fly by the seat of his pants in this conversation. "It sounded like a good perspective to get out there and, as it turns out, when I spooked her in the park she accidentally wound up breaking her camera, so I figured the least I could do was give her an interview."

This seemed to satisfy his… mother's first question, so he decided to go for a twofer and try to answer the second before it could be brought up again.

"As for why I didn't tell you… well, you two have been acting really edgy ever since you found me and, while I understand, I really do, I didn't think it'd be a good idea to add fuel to the fire," he said, looking back and forth to each of his parents to measure their responses. "Besides… I've always been the kind of guy who prefers asking for forgiveness instead of permission. Things go a lot faster that way."

While that wasn't entirely true, sometimes he did remember to ask for permission before doing something, it sounded better this way and stood a better chance of pacifying the adults. So he waited for the two to react or do something to give him an idea on which way things would slide. If they still decided to argue matters further, he could probably do the usual and make self-depreciating jokes until they gave in and let the matter drop.

The grins that forced their ways onto Thomas and Martha's face were definitely good indicators that there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

"I suppose we should've expected this," Thomas said as he turned to his wife grin still on his face.

"He is at that age, so it pretty much comes with the rest of it." Martha said with mild exasperation.

"Still, as responsible parents we can't just let him do whatever he wants," Thomas said, trying to sound like he had studied the matter thoroughly. "A good father sets limits after all."

Shit. NOW he was worried. Whenever the parental units started going back and forth like this it always spelled trouble for the child.

"So we'll let it slide this time, Xander, but from now on if you're going to have pretty girls in your room, I insist that Miss Graves be there to make sure that things don't get too crazy," Martha said before turning to look at Mercy. "Just talking and hanging out is okay, Miss Graves, but NO hanky panky. I might want to be a grandmother one day but not this soon."

He couldn't help but roll his eyes at this since he hadn't been expecting this sort of talk for a few weeks yet.

"And if he brings any girls here the door stays OPEN at all times," Thomas said, making it clear this was a rule not to be broken. "It might be a big mansion but the fact that anyone could walk by and see what they could be up to should be enough to make them watch their steps."

"DAD!" he exclaimed before he realized that he hadn't used the name 'Thomas' like he had been doing lately.

"Deal with it, son," Thomas said, sounding quite happy at the slip up. "When you're old enough to live on your own and mature enough that we can trust you not to do anything too foolish, THEN we'll do what we can to give you some space."

"Well then I guess I'll be the only guy to live and die a virgin because I don't plan on ever becoming that mature," he said, deciding to retaliate a bit. "Maturity takes all the fun out of things."

Everyone had a good chuckle at that but soon enough it was over.

"Well, it's just good to see that Miss Vale and Miss Gleeson have the right outlook when it comes to being reporters," Dad said, sounding like he was bringing things to a close. "Here's hoping they don't lose it."

"Now while normally I'd ask you to rejoin the party since you'd had a good break from the guests, I understand Miss Vreeland is still looking for you," Mom said, sounding like she disapproved of the rich redhead. "So I'll let you stay in your room until she leaves."

"Thanks. I'm having a hard enough time getting used to being rich," he said, remembering the predatory woman who'd prompted his hasty advance to the rear from the gathering. "Getting used to actually being attractive to the ladies is not something I want to deal with just yet."

"Well, you've got three months to get used to it," Dad said as he began to guide his wife out of the room. "After that you'll be attending Gotham Academy to finish off your high school education. Won't be able to avoid the looks then."

Gotham Academy? What kind of school was that?

"You ever hear of Gotham Academy, Mercy?" he asked, hoping his bodyguard had some kind of clue.

"Yes. It's a school for Gotham's upper elite. Basically if you're rich or powerful your kids go to school there." Mercy replied after a moment's thought.

"A school full of Cordelia's, Cordettes and snotty rich boys!?" he exclaimed as his mind came up with some very unpleasant scenarios.

"Technically you are a rich boy now and looks-wise would fit in with the rest of them," Mercy pointed out with a small grin of amusement.

"At least tell me that redheaded piranha won't be there," he asked since it'd be a lot harder to escape the young woman during class or in a building where he couldn't go wherever he wanted.

"Sorry, I'm pretty sure she does go there," Mercy said as her grin grew.

"Uuggghh. I don't suppose your job parameters include keeping gold diggers and bullies away?" he asked as he realized that three months might not be enough to prepare for such torment.

"Only if they threaten you with physical violence," Mercy said, sounding a bit more serious. "If it's just words then you're on your own."

"Great," he grumbled as he remembered how inventive the jocks and Cordettes had been with just words. "Just GREAT!"

William Earle's POV

So he'll be going to Gotham Academy, he thought as he finished reading his informant's report. Good. They owe me some favors there and I have some dirt on a few of the students there that I can use to my advantage.

He'd been waiting for just this sort of development before setting any serious plans into motion. He'd had some possibilities floating about his head, made some inquiries, but nothing he needed to commit resources to. Now, though, he knew where to focus his efforts, so all he needed was to find the right threads to weave together into a cohesive plan. The ideal starting point would be to arrange for some 'friends' to approach him at the academy to show him around and point out things of interest. He'd have to make sure that whoever he chose to befriend Bruce wouldn't have any alarming notes on their records that would denote them as someone to be avoided by the Wayne's new security force. Thomas had competent guards for his heir and they were smart enough to do background checks on everyone Bruce came into contact with. Whoever he asked to get close would have to pass any checks run on them, or at least be clean enough to warrant nothing more than a moderate warning.

As for the faculty members, there were a few he could call on.

Professor Milo, one of the chemistry teachers, could be prevailed upon to perhaps create something subtle enough to pass most chemical analysis tests but potent enough to affect Bruce. He imagined it would have to be something gradual that would build up in the system so as not to be noticed or seen as unusual. Something that would be written off as 'natural' to anyone who saw it but would make Bruce both reckless and defiant. That would generate enough bad publicity that he could take to the Wayne Enterprises board of directions as a sign that Bruce should be locked out of any line of succession.

However his ultimate pawn would come in the form of one Doctor Hugo Strange, who worked at the Academy as a guidance counselor. He would also be one of the most costly, given the man's… hobbies. While he did have sufficient evidence to make the man listen to his request, he knew he'd need something more if he was going to persuade the man to do as he asked. That meant either ideal test subjects for the man's personal experiments or hardware that the psychologist couldn't acquire on his own. Once his allegiance was assured he'd task the man with using his skills to do a little 'redecorating' inside Bruce's mind. Perhaps turn him against Thomas while seeing him as an ideal ally. If that proved to be too difficult then he would have to settle for installing certain behavioral traits that would make the young man unfit to run a company.

Naturally he would have the 'friends' he arranged for Bruce to have to facilitate and enable any flaws that the faculty members inserted but he'd warn them not to be too obvious about it. He couldn't risk any flags being raised with Thomas and Martha that would cause them to give their son a check up either medically or psychologically. It would render all his efforts meaningless and put them on high alert for trouble for months afterwards.

Through the 'friends', though, he would have enough advance warning of Bruce's movements to determine if any entertainment venues could be used to further his plans. Everyone had secrets. Everyone had a skeleton or two in their closet. He'd made it a hobby of his to collect such secrets and skeletons in order to achieve his goals. If he didn't have dirt on someone, he had the means to acquire it for the right price.

However, like with most things, it all came down to the planning and the timing.

I've worked too hard to rise to the top of Wayne Enterprises to be thwarted by some punk! he thought with a momentary spike of anger. I will not be robbed of the power I deserve without a fight!

Wayne Family Limo

Xander's POV

"Time to go swim with the piranhas," he mumbled as the limo came to a stop in front of the gates of Gotham Academy.

"It's not going to be that bad, Bruce," Tho—Dad said with a reassuring smile on his face. "Despite how Hollywood shows them, rich people aren't any different from the people you knew back home. They're just a little more… driven."

"Driven?" he asked, sounding a little concerned.

"They've probably been told since they were young that success won't come to you. You have to take action and go get what you want," Dad said truthfully even as his expression implied that he was being selective with what he revealed. "They've been told to aim high and not be happy with just coasting along. They've also learned to be very good at reading people. They can spot liars and will be quick to get your measure."

"So basically it's a zoo in there," he said, finding much of the info to match how Cordy and the Cordettes acted back home. "You're either predator or prey."

"Pretty much, but you'll find people you can trust if you keep your eyes open and use your head," Dad said as Alfred opened the door.

"Sure. No problem. Gotcha," he said as he adjusted the straps on his backpack and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

Looking down at himself, he couldn't help but shake his head since he'd never once in a million years thought he'd be wearing anything like it. It was your basic elite academy uniform: shiny dress shoes, suit pants, blazer with a patch above his heart made to look like the academy's coat of arms, a white dress shirt and lastly a fairly unremarkable black tie. Honestly he felt distinctly uncomfortable in the outfit but according to his Dad the uniform was mandatory and deviations from a prescribed appearance would be greatly frowned upon.

Typical. If it's not conformity, it's obedience, he thought before beginning his casual walk towards the open gates of the institution. It's the same in every school but at least back in Sunnydale I could wear what I like.

As he proceeded up the walkway to the main entrance, he could see other students heading for the same place, with some looking no older than fourteen years old while others were probably a year older than him. None of them were looking at him and for a moment he thought that maybe, just maybe, he'd get a break from being everyone's favorite topic of discussion.

After the 'little get together' at Wayne Manor to formally announce his return and the announcement that he'd be going back to school in three months, he'd taken it upon himself to treat the time like a summer vacation. Before the destruction of Sunnydale that would've meant trips to the beach, hanging out with LL and Willow in one of their living rooms or catching the latest Hollywood blockbuster at the local theatre. He'd known right off the bat that hanging out with his friends was out since they were either out of town or in no state to be doing anything other than sucking back fresh oxygen. So he'd decided to go with catching a movie as the first thing to do as the newly returned Bruce Wayne but that had turned out to be a mistake. Not only did the theatre staff trip over each other multiple times trying to give him good customer service but all the other customers trying to ask him questions or snap pictures.

To the credit of the middle class people present, most of them did quiet down once the movie began but eventually he had to consciously ignore the chatter.

Definitely spoiled the movie.

After that he asked his Dad if a private movie room could be installed into the manor and a deal worked out with the theatre chain to let him watch certain movies at home. He'd been more than a little surprised when a week later there were construction workers modifying a suitably large room to look like a mini-theatre complete with a fully stocked concession stand at the back of the room. Two weeks after that and it was done with an employee from the theater at the front door with the movie that he'd been kept from enjoying in hand. It was definitely not something he'd been expecting since he'd made tons of wishes and requests over the years, to Tony and Jessica in the beginning then just to his friends later on, but they'd never been fulfilled. To have one of his wishes granted? Well, it was safe to say that there were definitely some perks to being rich, to actually having the resources to do what you wanted rather than just dream about it, but his joy had been muted somewhat by the fact that he didn't really have anyone to enjoy it with. He might be getting closer to his parents but there was still a ways to go before he'd automatically think to invite them for movie night or be able to completely enjoy with them.

Still, the movies had been enough to help pass the time and that, added to Alfred's phenomenal cooking, made being without his friends easier.

Then came a week ago.

On the negative side of things the whole 'family' had gone to the Academy's administration offices to meet with Headmaster Hammer, who'd personally volunteered to handle his paperwork. The man was DEFINITELY in the wrong profession since, in his opinion, the man would be much happier running a maximum security prison. While on the surface the man was perfectly polite, he could tell with a look that the guy considered every student in his keeping to be hopeless and worthless in all ways save one; the wealth they possessed and could therefore donate to the academy with some careful prodding.

Aside from that he got the distinct impression that Hammer would have a smile on his face and a bowl of popcorn in his lap if the Academy ever burned down with every student trapped inside.

On the plus side, though, since the Academy was uniform mandatory that meant he'd been able to skip out on getting a whole new wardrobe like most high schoolers. Sure, he imagined that with every major event that demanded 'Bruce Wayne' be in attendance he'd probably have to get a new outfit, but that was only until he managed to get through all the firsts. Once they were done with his closet would be full and there'd be a multi-year respite before he'd have to try on half the clothes in a mall or store. Not that he minded new clothes but a lot of the new stuff that he'd put on so far… it just wasn't him. Sure, there were things that looked good on just about any man, like a black and white suit, but some of the other stuff was rich people clothing. He remembered joking with Jessie a couple of times about the outfits Cordy and her Cordettes came to school in, mocking everything from how much it'd probably cost them to how long it'd stay in their closet.

Being of middle class means, both him and Jessie were more for practicality as well as longevity than keeping up with the latest fashions.

Fashions changed every season, with no two years being quite the same, so it wasn't like you could coast on five year stretches before relearning what was cool and what wasn't.

Now… now he had a feeling that he was going to have to take fashion much more seriously.

Joy.

Entering the building, he took out the piece of paper that had a map of the building on it he looked for the location of his first class of the day. Sure, it made him look like a complete noob but that was okay because that's what he was, plus it at least made him look a LITTLE self-reliant whereas asking a random passerby for directions would make him look completely useless. After a little pondering he figured out the map and resumed heading to the classroom he needed to be in before the bell rang. Letting his mind and gaze drift a bit as he walked he found that a lot of the students were cookie-cutterish in their appearance, not just in clothes but also in hairstyles. There was little if any individual expression and he had a feeling that if anyone tried to push the envelope too far Headmaster Hammer would descend on them like a storm. Kind of like that saying 'the one that stands out gets hammered down first', or at least that's how he thought it went.

Odds are that I'm going to need some serious venting every day after school, he thought as he spotted the sign above the door of his destination classroom.

Entering the classroom, he could see that some students were already sitting down behind their desks while others were by the window or just standing about. Just like every other public place he'd gone too in the last month the second one person laid their eyes on him and recognized who he was the rest of the room's occupants soon followed. After that came the whispering, the pointing and he sighed as his hope that being amongst the rich elite would make him less of an attraction. Looking about he tried to figure out which of the student desks didn't already have an occupant and, once he found one with no school supplies on it or a backpack on the chair, he moved towards it. Setting his backpack on the back of the empty chair, he sat down before opening the top to extract his stuff.

Now some might think that he was being unusually studious considering his previous career as a slacker but, the way he saw it, with Willow in a coma he needed to be as smart as two people. That meant taking things seriously and applying himself to the best of his ability and that would be a first for him. Back in Sunnydale he'd only ever applied himself to two things: junk food and helping the Slayer. Aside from those two things he pretty much went with the flow of things, never putting any more effort than he needed to or wanted to. To him, thanks to his deadbeat surrogate parents, he knew he'd never have enough money for college and, without the necessary credentials, would never be able to get a high paying job. Therefore in his mind there was no point to working harder than he had to just to make a passing grade if there was no sufficiently big payoff at the end of trail.

Sure, Willow hadn't liked this point of view and through blackmail and bribery had managed to get him to work hard enough to keep up with her in her advanced classes, but it'd been hard as hell.

Whether or not that was because it actually had been hard or because his heart hadn't been in it, he didn't know. All he did know was that he was going to do his best friend proud by applying himself in every class so that WHEN she woke up she'd be smiling for weeks with pride.

He wouldn't be the smartest person to graduate from the Gotham Academy, he wasn't that lucky, but if he could at least manage to surpass the expectations of those around him that'd be good enough.

Maybe he'd even succeed in surprising himself.

Who knew what the future held for him now?