The evening's growing old and Bruce is on his way to the roof after a late dinner that was heavier on mushrooms than it seemed it should have been. He lingered over coffee and his evening paper, and now it's time for the night's work to begin in earnest.

When he starts hiccuping, the sound noisy and undignified in the confines of the elevator. When the doors open on the top floor, he grimaces and presses the button for his floor instead. It's a short ride, but by the time he's arrived at his room, there's an uneasy and unsettled feeling in his stomach. He pauses, settling himself on the edge of the bed to see if it will pass, but when the light in the ceiling of his room begins to pulse and dance though his head remains perfectly still, he begins to suspect that it's something far more than just an upset stomach.

Before long, he gives up even trying to understand and lets the light wash over him, the edges of his vision blurry with indistinct shapes and colors all muddled together. Even the bats dancing in the corners of the room seem more amusing than threatening, especially when the lights of the city visible outside the window start swirling around them and he lies back, unaware of anything much for a long time.

It's only when he wakens, thirsty and hungry and out-of-sorts, that he recognizes it for what it was, and that raises more questions than answers.

It's been a good day.

Today, 549 members of Gotham's criminal underworld were brought before Judge Surrillo by Harvey Dent and Rachel Dawes, were indicted, and were put behind bars awaiting trial. It took nerve, it took co-operation. Most of all, it took a man who's not afraid to stand up for what needs to be done, no matter how hard it will make life for him. In one move, Harvey Dent did more to damage organised crime in Gotham than Batman has done in nine months of campaigning. And he did it legitimately, in his legal capacity as Gotham City District Attorney. He did it with theatricality and flair - those things, he has in common with Batman - but he did it publicly and openly, and it was a brilliant move.

Bruce stands in front of the mirror and shrugs into a light, fine silk shirt. Only the best for Bruce Wayne, especially at something like tonight's event, a spectacular fundraiser hosted in his own penthouse. Impressions, after all, are an important part of any deception.

When he first conceived the notion of Batman, Bruce didn't know how long it would take to bring justice to Gotham. He was prepared to face a long, hard battle. He expected help from some quarters, from Alfred, from Rachel, whose words on the difference between justice and vengeance stunned him into seeing the reality of Gotham all those years ago. What he didn't expect was allies like Jim Gordon, like Harvey Dent.

When he said he'd host this fundraiser, it was both a mark of how impressed he was when he first met Dent, and a chance to get to watch him closer. And now, with all that's happened since the day he made that commitment, he's glad to be contributing to Dent's cause. Why shouldn't billionaire Bruce Wayne pitch in something for a charismatic and popular man he just happened to meet and like, a man who's the talk of Gotham? Especially when they have a mutual friend in Rachel. No, it won't do his cover any harm. He's earned rather a reputation for throwing his money behind causes on a whim.

But this isn't a whim, far from it. No, he's really wondering if perhaps Dent can do what he talked about the night Bruce met him, take up Batman's mantle and champion justice in Gotham using the law and the law alone and stand for the people's will to use the system to conquer the corruption.

If he can do that, then he can be the man that Gotham really needs to lead it forward. Bruce told himself when he started all this that he'd do it as long as it was needed, that he would be Batman until his mission was accomplished and Gotham was safe again, safe for the poor and underprivileged, no longer ruled by crooked cops and crime families. Maybe, just maybe, he thinks as he does up his buttons, that day Rachel mentioned is coming. The day when he can put aside Batman. The day she said she'd be there, waiting. He's wondered, at times, if he'd ever see that day. Today is not one of those days. Today, he can see it coming.

And he's going to tell her that. Tonight. So she knows that day is almost here.

He studies his reflection in the mirror. He's freshly shaven, hair neatly parted and brushed back. His shirt's pristine, and the fabric's got a slight sheen under the light.

Perfect. He selects a pair of silver cufflinks and begins fastening one as he steps out the door and out onto the stairs to the bottom floor of the penthouse.