The flat farmland stretched out for miles interlaced with islands of trees that had been invaded by Spanish moss. Occasionally, a river or bayou would carve a lazy path across the landscape. Sometimes a small town or little village would be settled along beside the quiet waters.

Bruce stared out the window from the back of his limo, while Alfred drove along in silence. "Why on earth would someone want to live out in the middle of nowhere? These people seem to be isolated from the entire universe," Bruce thought as he spotted a line of old faded clothes hanging out on a line to dry in the sun.

"Besides living in the dark ages, the South of all places is too hot and humid," Bruce reflected silently about the oppressive heat and humidity he had endured during this visit to Louisiana. For some reason Lucius Fox had insisted that Bruce Wayne go personally to sign the papers on a deal with a small construction company in an even smaller town. Lucius was dead set on hiring this construction company to help rebuild quake damaged Gotham. Lucius claimed that the company was one of the very few on a short list that would hire Gothamites and then help those employees find jobs after the construction work was completed. Bruce gave a half grin at the thought that perhaps Lucius was partial to the company because the owner happened to be Fox's old college roommate.

A sudden sputter and lurch brought Bruce out of his reverie.

"Oh my!" Alfred muttered softly.

"What's wrong Alfred? We didn't run out of gas?" Bruce regretted the last question after his life long friend glared at him through the rear view mirror.

"No sir. We did not run out of fuel," came the sharp reply. "However, I do believe that something is amiss with the mechanisms under the hood."

"Does this mean I'm going to miss my flight?" Bruce asked with a deep sigh. It was bad enough to have to come all the way down to this backwards place, but to have to drive over 3 hours to get to the nearest airport that had a flight with first class seating going to Gotham was absolutely ridiculous.

"Unless Harrisonburg has a Rent-A-Limo service, I believe that you will have to reschedule your flight plan. Perhaps we could call for your personal jet?" Alfred was being sarcastic. Bruce hated when Alfred was sarcastic, especially when Bruce was on the receiving end of that sarcasm.

"Alfred, you know that my personal pilots are on vacation and the jet is getting some new 'installments' this week," Bruce tried to mimic Alfred's irony, but failed miserably. "And what did you mean by Harrisonburg? Is that where we are at?"

"Yes Master Bruce. We are on the outskirts of Harrisonburg, Louisiana, population 550."

"Outskirts? How can you tell?" Bruce muttered with an annoyed shake of his head. "Well, we might as well get out and look."

"Agreed sir." Alfred stepped out of the limo and lifted the hood. After deliberating for a while, he looked over at Bruce who had joined him and said, "If we were home, I would have the proper tools and parts to fix this dilemma. However, we are stranded halfway across the American continent from Gotham. It appears we will have to rely on local help."

"Let's call Barbara and see if she can find a place to recommend," Bruce sounded almost triumphant at coming up with this plan. Alfred thought differently.

Frowning, Alfred said, "Master Bruce, you forget, this limo is not one of your toys. We rented it. Therefore, this vehicle does not have a computer in order to contact Miss Gordon."

"Great, no Oracle to help us out with vital information!"

"I hardly call a phone number to the nearest mechanic vital information," Alfred stated dryly.

"Fine, see who you can find," Bruce said shortly. He was tired and ready to get back to Gotham. He absolutely hated the country, especially when it was hot and humid. He wiped the sweat from his brow, leaned against the limo, closed his eyes, and prayed for a light breeze. A few seconds later, he allowed himself to sigh when he felt the wind whip by him. But that wind was also accompanied by the sound of a car engine.

Bruce opened his eyes suspiciously spying the green Escort pulling over on the side of the road just in front of them. A young woman stepped out and gave a concerned look.

"Hey, do y'all need some help?" She asked this to Alfred who at the moment had turned around from tinkering under the hood. Alfred gave her a sweet gentlemanly smile and said, "I do not suppose you know of a good mechanic nearby?"

"Of course I do! Only problem is it's after 5 and he's already gone home for the night."

"Perfect," Bruce said this louder than he intended. He noticed the girl glance at him and then do a triple take. It was really the first time she noticed him. He stared right back and began to assess her in a casual way, much like he did suspects and victims as Batman.

She was in her early 20's. "About Dick's age," Bruce made a mental note. Brown hair, curly and shoulder length. Blue?…no...green?…no, definitely gray eyes. Okay maybe a mixture. About 5'5 and 140 lbs. "Not the model type, just your average girl," Bruce decided.

"I can give you a ride into town if you would like one?" she asked tentively.

Bruce stared incredibly at her. "Miss, don't you think it's dangerous to go picking strange men up on the side of the road?"

"It's Sara, and yes, normally I would agree with you. But I don't think that you would hurt me."

"Why is that?" Bruce was curious of Sara's answer.

"Because, you are Bruce Wayne of Gotham City. And if you laid a finger on me, my Dad, brother, uncles, and various cousins would hunt you down like a fox caught in a briar patch." Sara gave him a wicked smile when she noticed Bruce's jaw drop open at the mention of his name. "What? You think cause I'm some country bumpkin, I'm an idiot and living in the dark ages?"

"Well, I…."

"Come on, guys! Get your stuff. It's getting dark and the mosquitoes are starting to eat me alive!"

By the time Alfred had moved the luggage from the huge trunk of the limo into the cramped space in the back of Sara's Escort, the sun had almost set and the shadows of the surrounding trees were stretched eerily across the ground. In the distance an owl hooted and a dog howled.

"I'll be more than happy to get to the house and inside," Sara commented, looking nervously around.

"Is something wrong?" Bruce picked up on Sara's unease.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just some old stories my grandfather use to tell me. All in all, I'll just feel a lot better when I get home." Sara got in her car and Bruce and Alfred joined her. "I suppose you'll need some place to stay, at least for the night. There aren't any hotels around here."

"I can't imagine why not," Bruce muttered. Sara shot him an irritated look, but almost instantly her expression turned to amusement.

"Did someone miss their nap today or are you always this grumpy?" Sara asked with feigned politeness.

It was Bruce's turn to be annoyed. He immediately took the offensive. "Maybe if I were stuck any place besides Mayberry…OW!" Bruce stopped his tirade, turned in his seat, and glared back at Alfred, who had just reached around the passenger seat from behind to pinch Bruce.

"Mind your manners, Master Bruce," Alfred warned.

Bruce sat quietly for several minutes. With a small pinch and a few words, Alfred had yet again succeeded in doing what few people had ever been able to do, put Bruce Wayne in his place. Sighing deeply Bruce said, "I'm sorry, Sara. I have allowed the circumstances to get the better of me. It's just that I am going to miss my flight back to Gotham. Like you said, I'll be more than happy to get home. No offense."

"None taken," Sara smiled. "I'll have to admit, I don't really want to be here either. I mean, I grew up here and it has a very special place in my heart, but for once, I would just love to live in the fast lane. You know, to be in a city with all the lights and hustle and bustle. But I'll never get away from here…" Sara's face took on a very melancholy expression.

"Why can't you go? What's holding you back?" Bruce's confusion was very evident.

"Where would I go and what would I do? I only have a high school diploma. I work at a convenience store for minimum wage. No skills and no extra money." Sara shook her head and frowned.

"You could get a scholarship and go to college," Bruce suggested.

"Like I would ever be lucky enough to get one of those. Besides, I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed. Just average. Plain ole average…Oh, enough of this already!" Sara's mood suddenly turned bright again. "Let's get you both to the house and call Bubba."

"Bubba? Is that your boyfriend?" Bruce questioned.

"Oh no! Bubba's just a friend. He's not what you would call 'book smart,' but he's a genius when it comes to anything mechanical. I'll bet he can fix whatever is wrong with your limo and have it running better than brand new," Sara bragged.

After riding several more minutes, Sara asked, "Have ya'll had supper yet?"

"Is that like dinner?" The words came out more sarcastically than Bruce had meant.

"No my dear, we have not," Alfred answered, after giving a swift quick to the front passenger seat that Bruce occupied.

"Well, you are in luck! I have all the ingredients for…drum roll please…tuna fish sandwiches!" Sara ended rather dramatically.

"Tuna fish sandwiches." Bruce repeated in a hollow voice.

"It sounds very refreshing," Alfred said with a smile. "Do you use mayonnaise or mustard?"

"A little of both."

"Pickle relish?"

"Oh yes!"

"Do you add apple to…"

"Can we swap recipes later?" Bruce asked in an exasperated tone. "And Sara where exactly do you live? The Hundred Acre Woods?" Bruce looked around at the ever-thickening woods that seemed to engulf the road ahead.

Sara laughed and said, "Well, I don't live in the 'city limits' of Harrisonburg if that's what you mean. But we are almost there. Just a few more turns in the road and two more bridges should get us there. Maybe some music to speed us on our way?"

Without waiting for an answer, Sara turned on the radio. Bruce had to smile. Like everything else around here, the music was country. Giving in with a resigned sigh, he settled back in his seat and closed his eyes to rest just for a few minutes. The words of the song started to filter into his weary head.

**Everybody knows everybody,
Everybody calls you friend,
You don't need an invitation,
Kick off your shoes, come on in,
Yeah, we know how to work and we know how to play,
We're from the country and we like that way.**

"Could it get worse than this?" Bruce thought.

Sara started to sing along.

"Oh yes, it can," Bruce added silently.

As the song was ending, Sara turned the car off the main highway onto a dirt road. A small wood framed house sat at the end of the drive.

"Home, sweet home!" Sara said happily.

After the car stopped in front of the old house, Bruce stepped out and took in a deep breath of what he expected to be fresh country air. Instead, he was greeted by a terrible, yet familiar odor.

"Something's dead," Sara claimed casually.

Before anything else could be said, a shadow rapidly advanced on Bruce knocking him to the ground. Immediately, Bruce began to struggle with the shadow by grabbing its hair with both hands. Bruce was about to give his attacker a right fist when he felt something warm and slimy slide up the side of his face as another familiar smell invaded him.

"Coal! Get off him!" Sara shouted.

Dog breath, Bruce thought sourly.

Sara reached over and pulled the oversized mutt off of Bruce. "Coal, what's wrong with you? Go on! Leave him alone!" Then turning to Bruce who was cautiously standing up, she said, "I'm sorry. Coal, usually doesn't act that way. Must be the full moon."

As they walked up the steps of the front porch, Sara made a disgusted sound and then growled, "That stupid old dog! Here's what's dead."

Bruce looked down at a small odd-looking creature. "What is it?" he inquired.

"Looks like an armadillo who forgot to look both ways before crossing the street. Coal, likes to drag up road kill," Sara shook her head in disgust.

Alfred offered to get rid of the dead armadillo if Sara and Bruce could manage the luggage. As Bruce entered the house, he noticed it was very quaint, but tidy and inviting. Sara showed him the extra bedroom.

"One of you can sleep in here and the couch in the living room makes down into a bed for the other. I'll let ya'll fight over it. I'm going to make the tuna fish now," Sara walked off toward the kitchen.

"Can I borrow the phone?" Bruce asked.

"Sure, there's one in the living room and bedroom. Take your pick."

Bruce sat on the bed in the guest bedroom and dialed a number. He waited a while, then dialed some more numbers, said his name out loud, and waited. He heard the operator ask someone on the other line, "Do you except the charges?" and a familiar voice answered, "Yes."

"Bruce? You called collect? This had better be good!" Dick demanded.

"Oh, I think this qualifies. Alfred and I ran into some car trouble," Bruce stated flatly.

"And what do you want me to do about that?" Dick sounded almost annoyed.

"…oh, uh, …nothing, I, uh, just thought…well, you know…that since we were going to miss the flight…I was afraid you would…never mind," Bruce ended sheepishly.

Dick rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Bruce, I would have been worried. Thanks for calling and letting me know. So where exactly are you?"

"The middle of nowhere. And no I'm not joking," Bruce said with conviction.

Dick looked over at Tim who was sitting on the floor next to the Clue game board. Tim was looking back at Dick mouthing the words, "What's going on?"

Dick covered the mouthpiece and told Tim, "Bruce and Alfred are stuck in the country somewhere." Back into the phone he said, "Bruce, there are lots of places that describes. Please be a little more specific."

"Harrisonburg, Louisiana, but it looks like the woods to me. And it's as hot as Hades too!" Bruce shucked off his tie and unbuttoned his collar.

"Do you have a place to stay?" Dick asked.

"Yes, a young lady is helping us. But honestly, it's just not my night. I mean, first off I had to leave Gotham to come down here. Then I had to ride all over the countryside on the most uneven and unpaved roads you have ever seen. The limo broke down, I had to ride in a car and listen to some country song. As soon as we got to this house, a dog attacked me. And now our hostess is making tuna fish for dinner. I hate tuna fish."

"Calm down, Bruce. You know as well as I do, things can always be worse." Dick asked, "Is she putting mayonnaise or mustard in the tuna fish?"

"A little of both," Bruce answered woodenly.

"Ooh Ooh Ooh! Is she going to put little bits of apple in it?"

"Dick! You are not helping!"

"Okay, so you are being forced to take a little vacation. Enjoy it!" Dick gave Tim a look that said, "I'm wasting my breath." Tim motioned for the phone.

"Bruce, Tim wants to talk." Dick handed Tim the phone before Bruce could react.

"Hey Bruce! Having a bad day?" Tim asked sympathetically.

"You could say that."

"Listen, I know how much you detest the country. But I believe I understand how you feel just a teeny tiny bit. Remember, I just spent several months at Brentwood Academy. It's summer now, but soon I'll have to go back. At first, I hated it. Couldn't stand it! But I knew that I was stuck there. It wasn't my choice, so I had to deal with it. And now, it's not so bad. Maybe you just need to deal with being there and understand it's not that bad, Bruce."

"Thanks Tim. I'll think about what you said," Bruce sighed. "I guess things will probably look better in the morning."

"Yeah, I'm sure they will," Tim encouraged.

Bruce hung up the phone and walked back to the living room. Sara came in carrying a tray with tuna fish sandwiches and drinks.

"Where's Alfred?" Bruce asked looking around.

"You mean he hasn't come back in yet?" Sara looked up at Bruce.

Concern filled both faces. "I'll get some flashlights. He probably was just looking for a place away from the house to bury that thing." Sara said this lightly, but Bruce could tell she was nervous. They both grabbed a flashlight and headed out into the dark.

"Alfred! Are you okay?" Bruce waited for an answer. Nothing. He knew his friend should have been back at the house by now. Alfred would have answered a call from Bruce as well. Something was not right.

Sara was about 10 feet away from Bruce shining her flashlight through the trees. She stopped suddenly and cautiously approached whatever she spied.

"Oh my gosh…" Sara covered her mouth with her hand. "No, it can't be! Coal?"

Bruce ran over to Sara and looked at what her flashlight revealed. The big black mutt was lying very still in a pool of blood. Bruce knelt down beside the carcass. The dog had been shot in the head.

Must have used a silencer since we didn't hear the shot, Bruce thought silently. Sara dropped to her knees beside her pet and stroked his hair. She started to cry softly.

"I'm sorry, Sara," Bruce said quietly.

Sara wiped her tears away quickly and said, "Thank you, but we have to find your friend and fast. Whoever did this is out here somewhere. It's not safe."

"We'll find him, Sara. We'll find Alfred." The voice did not belong to Bruce. Instead, it was the deep and confident voice of Batman.

He moved with great stealth through the dark recesses of the heavily wooded area. His eyes constantly searching and assessing all that came into his view. Trying to stay focused on the task at hand, he refused to let his mind wander on the surrounding events that had led him here. The only thing that mattered now was to hunt his prey. A sudden rustling sound behind him caused him to turn and strike out defensively in the darkness.

"OW! What did you do that…"

"Shhh!" Bruce hushed Sara furiously while covering her mouth with his hand.

Indignation flooded her eyes as she reached over and rubbed her side where Bruce had connected.

"What are you doing out here? I thought I told you to stay in the house," Bruce whispered sternly.

"I'm not staying in there alone. Haven't you ever seen a horror movie? When you split up, well…that's when the bad stuff happens," Sara whispered back. "So what's the plan?"

"The plan is for you to go back inside and lock yourself in the bathroom," Bruce said, pointing his finger in the direction of the house.

"No I will not! Besides, who's to say the bad guy is not in the house?" Sara demanded.

"Look we don't have time for this," Bruce was getting exasperated.

"Then let's go," Sara began to advance further into the woods.

Bruce shook his head and muttered, "Yeah right Dick! I'm really enjoying my 'forced' vacation!"

Meanwhile, not far away, Alfred sat huddled undercover of bushes and shrubs. He was not at all sure of exactly what was going on, but he knew his life, as well as his friends, were in danger.

Alfred had found a shovel and carried the armadillo into the woods to bury. After completing this task, he had turned to go back to the house. A sudden pounding sound came crashing towards him. Just as Alfred feared, Coal was coming in for the tackle. The big dog made contact with Alfred knocking the older man to the ground.

For a moment Alfred thought he was imagining things, but reality suddenly sank in as he watched in horror. The dog's massive head seemed to explode for no reason. By the time the pair hit the ground, Coal was a dead weight and Alfred was covered in the dog's blood. Alfred scrambled to his feet and took off running as fast as he could. He ran until he felt as if he would collapse. Stopping for a breather, Alfred had hidden himself in the dark shadows of the overgrowth of wild plants.

Alfred knew that Bruce would be worried and come looking for him. But that would only place Bruce in danger. Alfred also knew he had to get back to the house and warn Bruce of this unseen attacker. He was about to steal himself closer to the house when he heard voices off to his left. Holding his breath, Alfred sat as still and quiet as possible.

Sara was crawling forward hiding behind trees and bushes as she went down the curving path. Bruce was not far behind; at least that's what Sara thought. In reality, he had passed her and was scanning the path ahead. Bruce stopped suddenly as he sensed another presence besides his own and Sara's. Listening intently, he turned his focus on a clump of bushes to his left. Bruce started to sneak over in that direction, when he heard Sara coming up behind him.

Sounds like a herd of elephants on parade, Bruce scowled.

Tiptoeing up to Bruce, Sara whispered, "Hey I thought you were behind me."

Ignoring her ignorance, Bruce motioned toward the bushes and placed a finger to his lips. Sara nodded in understanding. She slipped behind a nearby tree and peeked around to watch as Bruce cautiously approached the bushes.

With a quickness that seemed almost inhuman, Bruce reached into the thick underbrush and pulled out a dark clad figure. Whoever it was, the stranger did not come out willingly. Bruce found himself struggling against his captured prey. Pinning the stranger down, Bruce demanded, "Who are you?"

At Bruce's words, the struggles ceased and a familiar voice questioned, "Master Bruce?"

"Alfred?"

"Oh thank Heaven it's you!"

"Alfred, are you okay? I didn't hurt you?"

"I'm quite alright, I assure you Master Bruce."

"I was so scared that something had happened…" Bruce trailed off.

"Guys, I hate to break up this reunion, but that …monster, for lack of a better word…" Sara started to say.

"I can think of a better word," Bruce growled.

"Master Bruce, there is a lady present," Alfred pointed out.

"Anyway, the bad guy is still out here somewhere," Sara said completing her thought.

"I assume then, you found the unfortunate creature?" Alfred questioned.

"If you mean Sara's dog, yes," Bruce sighed. "And Sara's right. Whoever did that is still out here. Too bad we did not pack for this kind of situation."

"Master Bruce, you know we always go prepared," Alfred stated.

"Really? Where do you manage to pack all my stuff and keep it hidden?" Bruce asked.

Alfred gave an enigmatic smile, "My little secret."

"Apparently you both have big secrets. Either let me in on them or stop talking in code around me. That's so annoying!" Sara griped.

"If you would stay inside, we wouldn't have to speak in code," Bruce shot Sara a look.

"Oh no, nothing you can say will send me back to the house now. Whoever shot Coal is going to pay and I'm going to make sure of it!" Sara's features were set in a determined 'you can't change my mind' sort of way.

"Okay, but we do this MY way. Understand?" Bruce waited for a nod and then said, "Alright, this is what we'll do."

"I just don't think we should split up. Don't you think it's a little too dangerous to go wandering around on your own?" Sara looked perplexed at Bruce who stood with his arms crossed. "Ooh…Alfred, you tell him!" Sara pleaded.

"Master Bruce is more than capable of taking care of himself," Alfred said taking Sara's arm and leading her away.

She hesitated and looked back at Bruce. "But...are you…I mean, just…"

"MY rules, remember?" Bruce said in his stern Batman voice.

Sara's eyes filled with tears as she choked out, "I don't understand. Why…"

Bruce walked over and placed his hands on her shoulders and said in a much gentler voice, "I know you are scared and grieving right now, Sara. But I need you to trust me." Sara nodded and wiped the tears away.

"Now go with Alfred and bury Coal. I promise to meet you at the house in an hour," Bruce said confidently.

Sara and Alfred picked up the large dog and carried him through the woods. Neither of them said anything, only a few sniffles from Sara. It was slow going stumbling in the dark lifting almost 200 pounds of dead weight. After about twenty minutes of struggling down the path, Sara panted, "Okay, this is it, Coal's favorite spot."

Alfred looked down at the swamp below the small hill on which they stood. "What is the most convenient way down this hill?"

"There is a deer trail over here," Sara pointed out.

Together, Alfred and Sara started a slow decent. Suddenly, Sara tripped on a rock and tumbled backwards, crashing into the swamp below. Alfred and the dead dog followed right on her heels. Landing beside Sara in a mostly muddy area, Alfred gave a small and undignified groan. At first, Sara seemed horrified. But one look at Alfred, with mud splattered on his bald head and disgusted frown set in his normally stoic face, she started to laugh. Alfred looked over at the young lady who, in his very humble opinion, was not acting very ladylike. He had it in his mind to correct this horrible display; however, Sara's laughter was infectious. Both ended up laughing until tears streamed down their faces.

Bruce was not having fun. He had decided to check into one of the few clues, Coal's strange behavior. Sara had been adamant that Coal never "tackled" people. She had trained him to sit when greeted by someone. But tonight, Coal had knocked both Bruce and Alfred over. Why?

Let's go back to the beginning, Bruce reasoned in his head. Pulling out a miniature flashlight, Bruce carefully studied the place Coal had "attacked" him earlier. Paw prints and Bruce's own shoe prints were still visible. Slowly searching up the car door beside the "crime" scene, Bruce stopped the beam of light on a small round hole. He reached over and ran a finger over the small indention in the vehicle.

"It appears Coal played the hero 2 times tonight," Bruce sighed.

"That dog was always good at hiding," Sara shook her head in agitation.

"I am afraid with that black coat, he will be a hard find," Alfred commented regretfully. "Although, I am quite certain he landed close to me."

"Do you suppose he fell in the deeper water and sunk?" Sara looked doubtfully out into the quiet water.

"Maybe, but I was sure…" Alfred let his words drift off. He had caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Before Sara knew what was happening Alfred pushed her face first back into the mud. She came up coughing and spitting the bitter grit from her mouth. Alfred made hushing motions. Both fell silent watching for any signs of movement around them.

Examining the bullet he had extracted from the car door, Bruce rubbed his forehead. He felt a headache coming on.

This is bad, he thought. A bullet specialized for a type of high tech sniper rifle used almost exclusively by a certain mid-eastern terrorist group. But why would he be out here? Why do the nutcases always seem to follow me around?

Sighing, Bruce knew he had to find Sara and Alfred. This enemy was more formidable than he had thought.

Alfred and Sara silently agreed to work their way back to the house. Crawling back up the deer trail, both hide behind trees and shrubs moving quietly and slowly so as not to attract unwanted attention. Alfred was in front doing his best to point Sara to the better cover. When he reached the top of the hill, Alfred turned to help Sara climb up the steep side. She held onto Alfred's hand and pulled herself up. She gave him a grateful smile, but it faded as a sudden "clicking" sound echoed behind Alfred.

Alfred turned slowly and Sara peered around him. Both of them gaped at a tall man with a sniper rifle aimed in their direction.

Bruce made his way quickly through the woods. He knew he had to get Alfred and Sara out of danger. Rounding a turn in the path, Bruce saw what he was afraid would happen. Alfred and Sara were being held at gunpoint. Thinking of the best course of action, Bruce used his most ticked off Batman voice, "Ra's Al Ghul, drop your weapon!"

Ra's Al Ghul turned slightly, but kept his gun aimed at his original targets. "Well done, Detective. You discovered my presence here sooner than I could have anticipated."

"What are you doing here Ra's? You could not have set this whole situation up just to kill me," Bruce said with disgust.

"You are correct again, Detective. There is a much deeper reason behind my interest in this location," Ra's stated dryly.

"Waitaminute," Sara interrupted. "Bruce, you know this freak? And why the heck does he keep calling you 'detective?' You're not some undercover cop, are you?" Sara asked doubtfully.

"My dear, you do not know the half of it," Alfred muttered.

Ra's ignored Sara and continued his conversation with Bruce. "This land upon which we stand is more valuable than that poor common girl is aware."

"Common?" Sara looked really ticked. Alfred gave her a warning look. She dropped her head and clenched her fists.

"A Lazarus Pit," Bruce finally acknowledged.

"Very impressive indeed. However, this pit is very young. Its powers are not great enough to be useful to me. But it is worth the effort to save for future use," Ra's explained. "Too bad that is a future none of you will be alive to see."

Ra's Al Ghul turned quickly to face Sara and Alfred, intending on firing his weapon. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as Bruce moved forward to stop Ra's. But he was too far away. Alfred threw himself in front of Sara in order to shield her from the line of fire.

Then from somewhere out of the bushes that surrounded them, a big, black, furry creature flew up and knocked Ra's Al Ghul to the ground. The rifle fired and the bullet lodged harmlessly into a tree. Ra's, although stunned, did not stay down for long. He was up and moving fast through the trees. Bruce followed him. He barely caught a glimpse of Ra's Al Ghul disappearing behind a heavy clump of bushes. Bruce pushed the shrubbery back just in time to see his enemy jump onto a waiting helicopter in the small clearing.

"We will meet again, Detective!" Ra's Al Ghul yelled as his craft lifted off the ground.

Bruce scowled with open disgust at his enemy. Then he turned and went back to see about Sara and Alfred. When Bruce arrived back at the scene, Sara was kneeling beside a very much alive Coal and hugging his neck.

"But you were dead! How can this be?" Sara questioned in a shocked but happy voice.

"Apparently Sara, your swamp is what is known as a Lazarus Pit. It has the ability to raise the dead," Bruce stated quietly as he knelt down beside the dog and scratched the furry black ears. Coal reached up and licked Bruce's face.

Sara looked at Bruce disbelievingly and said, "I'm really inclined to say, 'You've lost it!' But since I've seen it with my own eyes, I guess I'll take your word for it."

"Sara it's not going to be safe for you here. Ra's Al Ghul will be back," Bruce warned.

"But where will I go?" Sara questioned.

"Oh, I think one of the various Wayne Companies may have a scholarship or two waiting for a certain young country girl who is in need of a good college education."

Sara stared at Bruce for a long time. "You're not playing me for a fool, are you?" She asked skeptically.

Bruce gave Sara his most charming smile and said, "Sara, you may be a country bumpkin, but you are not some idiot living in the dark ages. Besides, I never play my friends for a fool!"

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