The Universe's Mixer

Contrary to what she might have thought, Bruce Wayne hadn't gone to work that day. Instead, he'd spent the entire day quietly organizing for the evening. There was much to do, and it had to be done in secrecy -- a feat not easily accomplished with an accomplished mistress of stealth in the manor.

But by 6 p.m., the northwest corner of the roof was set up to his specifications. He'd already moved an intimate dining table up, along with a bedroom suite, some days ago when Selina had been out. The final touches - the important things - were complete. Rose petals. He toed at the thick carpet of them, then glanced to the high walls around the roof. The wind would take some of them, but Alfred knew to replace them just before he and Selina brought up dinner.

He checked his pocket a third time for his grandmother's ring, then headed downstairs. He was supposed to be driving back in from the City at this time, and his decoy driver had just made it to the garage. With a nod, he snatched the keys from the air as they were tossed, pulled on the suit jacket he'd left to change into, and headed back in to find Selina.

The warehouse was as well-fitted as it could be, defensively and offensively. That had been step 1. But now he and Bane needed information -- more of it, that is, than what could be found on newspapers left littering the sidewalk in this mostly-deserted side of town. Refuse told much about a city - even living refuse that clumped in dirty piles in the alleyways - but there was only so much information that could be extracted from half-gone junkies. With distaste, the Cleric dropped the latest wellspring and dusted his gloves off gingerly.

This wasn't working.

It was a risk, but one that needed taking. Bane was too conspicuous to do the job well; it fell to Cleric Brandt, First Class. Clothes were the first hurdle, quickly overcome by a little quiet street intervention. Wearing another man's clothing, then, he took the first car he found into the City proper and ditched it on the edge of a long line of houses a few streets down from a busy part of town.

And then he began walking. A fresh newspaper was easy to pluck off a nearby outdoor table. He tucked it under his arm and kept walking until he got around the corner, then propped his arm against the side of the nearest building and began to read.