[ He's confident they can avoid being too direct while still answering each other's questions. It's all about the words chosen, and even in his own home - before it burned to the ground - Bruce had been able to read the real meaning behind 'Will you be going out tonight?' and 'Shall I bring the car around?'
Silent, he keeps his eyes on his oldest friend as he waits for him to answer the question, as though what Alfred says will change his mind or affect him in any way. It won't, but that hadn't kept him from asking, either. In the end the choice is his, and sure enough, Alfred knows to remind him of that fact, while very gently suggesting to him a question he hadn't considered.
What was there to be gained in hiding? Could he stand back and let other people fight, watch from the sidelines as he had when Harvey Dent had stepped on that podium and announced to them that he was Batman? Sure, it had all been part of the plan, but it hadn't made it any easier to see other people risking their lives in his place. He'd suffered through too much of that recently to want to deliberately endure it again.
Bruce raises his hand, crosses it over his chest and settles it on Alfred's, then he allows himself a rare almost smile the genuine article. ]
Thank you.
[ And Bruce stands slowly off the edge of the bed, kicks his foot back against the wooden end, and with a thud something drops down from underneath, where it had been attached to the bottom slats of the bed. Bruce toes out a black rolling luggage bag, the kind a businessman might use, and lifts it clean up onto its wheels on the end of his shoe. Another tap opens it revealing the batsuit - his much too technologically advanced and reenforced for his age batsuit - inside. He fetched down the cowl, setting it in place, and closed the lid again. ]
You realize if I do this I'll have to start changing in phone booths.
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Silent, he keeps his eyes on his oldest friend as he waits for him to answer the question, as though what Alfred says will change his mind or affect him in any way. It won't, but that hadn't kept him from asking, either. In the end the choice is his, and sure enough, Alfred knows to remind him of that fact, while very gently suggesting to him a question he hadn't considered.
What was there to be gained in hiding? Could he stand back and let other people fight, watch from the sidelines as he had when Harvey Dent had stepped on that podium and announced to them that he was Batman? Sure, it had all been part of the plan, but it hadn't made it any easier to see other people risking their lives in his place. He'd suffered through too much of that recently to want to deliberately endure it again.
Bruce raises his hand, crosses it over his chest and settles it on Alfred's, then he allows himself a rare almost smile the genuine article. ]
Thank you.
[ And Bruce stands slowly off the edge of the bed, kicks his foot back against the wooden end, and with a thud something drops down from underneath, where it had been attached to the bottom slats of the bed. Bruce toes out a black rolling luggage bag, the kind a businessman might use, and lifts it clean up onto its wheels on the end of his shoe. Another tap opens it revealing the batsuit - his much too technologically advanced and reenforced for his age batsuit - inside. He fetched down the cowl, setting it in place, and closed the lid again. ]
You realize if I do this I'll have to start changing in phone booths.