A/N: These are a series of oneshots all about what would have happened had Bruce turned himself in. They're written in first person, but they ARE NOT the SAME person. This first oneshot is from the POV of a cop. Please R/R. I love reviews, and anything you feel like saying about my story is appreciated. Flame, comment, point out mistakes in my story, whatever you feel like. They all make me happy.

Interrogation

His posture was that of someone who had done the dance before. The slightly slumped shoulders, the stretched-out feet, one hand carelessly propped on the arm of the chair while the other one rests on the table. It was the stance I've seen hundreds of perps use in interrogation rooms. He could have passed for just another punk, the kind that was arrested in handfuls for petty crimes, if he wasn't wearing a suit that probably cost more than my yearly salary. It intrigued me that Bruce Wayne, billionaire and prince of Gotham managed to learn the world-known punk posture.

Another thing that intrigued me was his silence. The tabloids had always portrayed him as a spoiled, thoughtless, arrogant playboy who had more money than common sense. So why was a man famous for his flippant remarks being so stony silent? But then, of course, one had to remember his alternate persona. The man that sat before me really was an enigma. He showed the world two extremes of his personality, but what was he really like? Was he Batman or Bruce Wayne? Which one was the mask, or were they both? Was the real man a mix of the two extremes?

The thick silence we sat in contrasted the wildly whirling thoughts streaking through my head. Nothing was to be learned from a staring contest, so I cleared my throat and asked the first question that paused long enough in my mind to make sense. "Why bats?"

Wayne lifted an elegant eyebrow, and there was the rich socialite I had expected to see. Heat rushed through my cheeks as I realized how stupid it sounded. Here was the infamous Batman and the first question I ask him is his taste in costumes.

Determined to cover up my mistake I plowed on to the next question. "Where did you learn all the martial arts that Batman has proven to be proficient in?"

Wayne shrugged. "Here and there." The hand that had been resting on the table now made a sweeping gesture before returning to its perch.

I had never been the most patient person, and the beginnings of annoyance fizzled in my mind. Could he have given a more vague answer?

"Where, Mr. Wayne?"

"Here and there."

"At least tell me when."

"When I was traveling."

Ah, so Wayne finally speaks about his mysterious seven-year absence. Apparently he hadn't been vacationing in the billionaire hotspots, like he had claimed. "And where would you have traveled?"

Wayne tilted his head in thought. "London, Paris, Cairo, parts of Africa, Tibet…" He shrugged. "Here and there."

I could almost swear there was a twinkle in his eyes as he said the last phrase.

"What did you do while you were there?"

"Went sight-seeing."

"In Tibet?"

"They have very interesting mountains. I even got to hike up one."

"Oh really?" He was trying to get off the topic, but I admit I was curious about where he had gone during his disappearance.

"I don't think Ra's was very happy about his monastery burning down though…"

I blinked, trying to process that statement. First of all - monastery? Second, he burnt down another ancient building? Third, who was Raz?

The corners of Wayne's lips were twitching, trying to hide the smirk that was inching its way onto his face. Of course he had said that to confuse me. The man had the punk attitude to go with his posture. My eyes narrowed. I didn't like perps messing with me, and billionaire or no, Wayne was still just another criminal. One that many people looked to as a hero, but still technically a criminal.

"So, let me get this straight. You spent seven years traveling the globe and learning how to fight."

"No." Now Wayne was definitely smirking.

I nearly sputtered with anger. "Mr. Wayne, you just told me that you did learn to fight while traveling."

"Yes, I did say that."

"Then why do you deny it!"

"I didn't spend all seven years learning to fight. Surely you don't think me that incompetent."

I glared at Wayne, who now was giving me the blinding grin that all of his current pictures portrayed. He must be getting a kick out of this. Just as I was about to retaliate, the interrogation room door opened. Harvey Dent came striding in, and dismissed me with a curt nod that did not help my temper. Just because he was DA didn't mean I was the dust on his shoes. I silently fumed as I stormed out. My curiosity was battling my anger and pride. Eventually, curiosity won out and I and went to see what was going on through the one-way mirror.

The speaker was on, and the DA's voice came through tinny but clear enough to understand. "Bruce Wayne." Dent's back was to me, but I could see him shake his head. "I definitely did not expect you to be the legendary Batman."

Wayne smiled, but this one was not the full-blown one that he had given me. It was more subdued, less arrogant, and seemed to fit him better.

Dent opened his briefcase and hauled out a stack of papers. He thumped them down with a dull thud that crackled through the speaker. "Well the official charges against you are – quite numerous. However, I think we can get most of them thrown out, if we spin them right."

Wayne's brow creased in confusion, and I agreed with him. Wasn't Dent the DA? The prosecuting lawyer? "Harvey – what are you talking about?"

Dent glanced up. "Your case, of course. I've volunteered to take it. Now–"

Wayne held up a hand. "Harvey, I appreciate the offer, but I'm pleading guilty to all counts."

What? If he was pleading guilty, why did the Captain tell me to interrogate him? I pushed my confusion to the back of my mind for the moment. The drama unfolding was much more important, and I could figure out that puzzle later.

"-Can't just give up, Bruce! You're Batman! The city's hero!"

Huh, I seem to have missed part of Harvey's rant.

Wayne's face had become completely serious. "I knew the risks when I first became Batman, and I am ready to take the consequences."

"No! You-"

"Harvey."

Bruce leaned forward, abandoning any pretense of the happy-go-lucky playboy or the punk façade. Even through the speaker his voice was intense and earnest.

"You are the city's White Knight. People need dramatic examples to shake them out of apathy. Batman was one. You gave them another one, a better one when you arrested over five hundred criminals in one fell swoop. Batman gave the city what it needed, but now it needs something else. It needs a hero with a face, someone they can look up to. I'm not popular right now "- I snorted at this. The whole city was crying for his blood to appease the Joker and stop his destruction of the city. - "and you cannot associate with me. The people need you to lead them, to set an example. You can do something Batman never could. Don't ruin it. Remember what you said when I first met you? About the Romans choosing one man to defend a city? Well now it's your turn to serve your city."

I could nearly see the trust shining through Bruce's eyes. He put so much stock into Dent, into the things he stood against. The Batman was handing over his city to a man he had absolute trust in.

Dent took a deep breath and placed both hands on the table. He hesitated, as if he wanted to say something, then stood up without a word. He quickly threw the papers back into his briefcase before heading towards the door. I scurried over and opened it. Dent seemed half angry and half shocked. His jaw was twitching but there was a dazed look in his eyes. I nodded respectfully (never a bad thing when he's the DA, even if he's an arrogant prick) and watched him leave, his old IAB nickname floating through my head. He had certainly seemed to be of two minds of Batman's decision

I peered into the open door of the interrogation room. Wayne was sitting in the chair, head in his hands. He let out a long sigh, and I could see the corners of his mouth curl up in a small contented smile. Batman had passed on his duty to another.