Bruce hadn’t really had too many expectations for his day. It was a Friday - he was working from the Manor today. He had been planning on spending it working on his latest case involving an organised crime syndicate that had started becoming more of a problem than usual in Gotham, and maybe answer the persistent emails from Lucius about Wayne Enterprises which he’d been getting with increasing frequency over the last two weeks. Housekeeping, so to speak.

What he hadn’t- or would never have- expected for his day was for Alfred to announce that he had a visitor, someone whom he’d never met before but was demanding to see him because, apparently, they knew his secret. Not only that, but they were also insisting that they were… from another universe?

“Just so that I know I’m understanding you correctly,” he said, his arms crossed against his chest. He and this mystery person were in his office, them seated in front of his desk and him leaning back in his chair behind it, giving them his best Brucie Wayne you-cannot-be-serious-right-now look. “You are claiming that you’re from another universe, a universe where all superheroes are fictional and only exist in comic books. Not only that but the entire city of Gotham isn’t real, and neither am I. Oh, and... you believe that I'm Batman.”

He already had a headache, frankly.