There were rules in Wayne Manor.

Alfred knew them.

The staff knew them.

The Bat-Family knew them.

One of the more important ones was simple.

Never interrupt Bruce’s private time unless Gotham was actively ending.

Unfortunately—

nobody had ever explained that rule to Talia al Ghul.

The afternoon had been unusually quiet.

No League emergencies.

No rogues blowing up downtown.

No calls from the Watchtower.

For once, Bruce had actually taken the day off.

An achievement so rare Alfred had briefly considered marking it on the calendar.

Upstairs, Bruce was thoroughly occupied with his wife.

Then—

the security system chimed.

Not an alarm.

Just a notification.

Someone had entered the grounds.

Alfred glanced at the monitor.

Then paused.

“…Oh, dear.”

The front doors opened before anyone could stop her.

Confident.

Composed.

Entirely uninvited.

Talia walked into Wayne Manor as though she still owned a key.

Alfred intercepted her immediately.

“Miss al Ghul.”

“Alfred.”

“You should have called.”

“I didn’t think it necessary.”

Of course she hadn’t.

Alfred sighed.

Somewhere upstairs, Bruce’s phone vibrated against the nightstand.

Ignored.

It vibrated again.

Ignored again.

A third time.

Nothing.

Alfred pinched the bridge of his nose.

This was becoming a problem.

“Master Bruce is… unavailable.”

Talia looked mildly amused.

“I’ll wait.”

She started toward the staircase.

Alfred stepped neatly into her path.

“I wouldn’t.”

One eyebrow lifted.

“And why not?”

Another long pause.

“Because I value your dignity, Miss al Ghul.”

That finally earned a flicker of curiosity.

Before either of them could say another word—

footsteps echoed from the second floor.

Bruce appeared at the top of the staircase.

His dress shirt was only half-buttoned.

His hair looked thoroughly disheveled.

He stopped the instant he saw Talia.

She looked at him.

Then at the state of his shirt.

Then back again.

Bruce closed his eyes.

Slowly.

As if hoping that when he opened them, she would have disappeared.

She had not.

Alfred quietly looked away, pretending to find a painting on the wall suddenly fascinating.

Because after decades of serving the Wayne family, he had learned one universal truth.

No matter how carefully Bruce planned his life—

someone always managed to interrupt it at the worst possible moment.