The boy was quite literally shaking. Bruce could see beads of sweat running down his neck.

“M-Mr. Wayne,” Peter stammered, as the car started up.

Bruce smiled to ease his tension. If he was less tense, Peter would be more likely to open up. “Please, call me Bruce.”

“B-Bruce,” Peter said. “I-I’m a huge fan.”

Bruce smirked. “I know. I saw your essay.”

Peter face-palmed and let out a shaky laugh. “I almost forgot. Where are my manners?”

He reached in for a handshake which Bruce returned heartily.

“You look very tense,” Bruce said.

Peter let out another tense laugh. “I’m sorry… it’s just you’re one of my heroes and it’s… such an honour to be meeting you face to face.”

“Well it’s a long ride to Wayne Manor so please relax,” Bruce said. “Besides let me tell you something my father told me when I was young and something, I’ve learnt was true as I grew up.”

“That is? Mr. Wayne, sir.”

“Don’t look forward to meeting your heroes,” Bruce said. “They might not always be what you expect.”

…

Peter could not believe Bruce Wayne. The Bruce Wayne was sitting right across him. And there was no doubt it was him. It was the same clean shaven, slicked back black hair, broad shoulders and blue eyes he saw on TV and in the newspapers and magazines. Peter had to stop himself multiple times from screaming in excitement.

“Richard tells me you’re from New York,” Bruce said. “What brings you to a place such as Gotham?”

“Well I managed to land myself a scholarship at Gotham High,” Peter said. “My Aunt and Uncle were excited at the opportunity I could be attending such a prestigious school so we decided to move in here.”

“But Gotham?” Bruce said. “I’m sure you’ve heard all about the crime and that bat vigilante stirring up trouble around here? Surely you could have studied somewhere else?”

Peter sighed. “My Aunt and Uncle are poor but they’ve always wanted the best for me ever since I was a kid. They wouldn’t just settle for less, especially when it came to me. That’s why we decided to move in here.”

And the best I could ever offer to them was getting Uncle Ben shot, Peter thought bitterly.

“I’m sorry for making this all depressing,” Peter said suddenly.

Bruce waved his hands, smiling a warm smile. “No problem Peter.”

There was something irking Peter at the back of his mind. A thought Peter immediately dismissed. But there was something in Bruce Wayne’s eyes that showed that he was looking for something more than a casual conversation. It was almost as if he was probing him, analysing him.

Bruce leaned back, pouring a glass of wine into a glass. “I’m sure you read the newspapers.”

“Yeah I do,” Peter said. “Why?”

Bruce leaned forward. “I’m sure you know about this new vigilante… The one they call Spiderman.”

…

At the name of Spiderman, Peter shuffled a little in his seat. Bruce noticed creases in the boy’s suit, he was tensing up.

Bingo.

“He seems a little young, doesn’t he?” Bruce asked, taking a sip out of his glass. “A little too young to be dealing with the likes of the Falcone family.”

Peter laughed. It was a forced laugh, a nervous one. “Well he isn’t the brightest lightbulb in the box.”

“Some might say he’s a little reckless,” Bruce said. “A little in over his head.”

“Well you could say the same thing about the Batman, couldn’t you?” Peter asked. “Sorry if I’m being a little intense Mr. Wayne but we’re talking about a crazy guy in a suit with access to all sorts of high-tech weapons and the police are doing nothing about him?”

“I don’t like the Batman either but at least he seems professional,” Bruce said. “This Spiderman is a nuisance and interferes with police business. He’s a daredevil with no respect for procedure.”

“So, Batman can drive on top of people’s roofs on his Batmobile but Spiderman is a daredevil?” Peter said.

Bruce chuckled. “Touché. You have me speechless and that isn’t something that happens often.”

Bruce poured himself another glass of brandy, the brown liquid licking the walls of the rugged edges of the glass.

“But I wonder,” Bruce said, thoughtfully glancing upwards. “I wonder why this Spider-man does what he does? Kid like him could literally be doing anything else rather than stopping Mafia drug deals and bank robbers. I bet he’d be great on TV.”

“Well maybe he just wants to do the right thing,” Peter said.

Bruce took a sip off his brandy. “Could be.”

He stared at Peter’s blue eyes. “One can’t help but wonder though.”

…

The limo went over a gravel road, rumbling through a sandy road with pine trees surrounding it.

“Looks like we’re almost there,” Bruce noted.

“Yeah,” Peter said. “Can’t wait.”

Bruce smiled. “You seem excited.”

Peter nodded. “Yep, this is my first-time seeing Wayne Manor.” Peter shook his head. “I mean, your house.”

“Please feel free to call it Wayne Manor,” Bruce said. “My ego needs a little bit of feeding from time to time.”

Peter chuckled. “Noted.”

There was a short silence as the engine of the limo hummed. The silence was broken up by Bruce.

“So, Dick tells me you’re one of the smartest people he’s met,” Bruce said.

Peter scratched his hair. “That’s a bit of an understatement.”

“He says you get higher grades than him in your science quizzes.”

“Well that’s true,” Peter said.

“Are you good with technology?” Bruce asked.

Peter shrugged. “Somewhat. I built a computer from scratch once.”

“Interesting,” Bruce said stroking his chin. He opened up a cabinet at the bottom of his seat and pulled out a red and blue giftbox that was so small it could fit in Peter’s pocket.

“What’s that?” Peter asked.

“A bunch of electronics and spare parts from Wayne Tech’s science division, transistors, lights, the works,” Bruce said. “I want you to have it.”

Peter’s eyes widened. He couldn’t stop himself from grinning. Bruce returned the grin with a smile.

“No way,” Peter said, his eyes shining with delight.

“Yes way,” Bruce said. “Dick told me he’s seen what you could do with a bunch of bleach and household items. Now I want to see what you could do with some Waynetech. Albeit not as advanced as the ones our top scientists use but…” Bruce shrugged. “I’m sure someone with your talents can do something with it.”

“Thank you so much Mister…”

“Please call me Bruce.”

“Mister Bruce,” Peter said ecstatically, basically yanking the red and blue giftbox from Bruce’s hands and putting it in his coat pocket. “I’ll show you what I can do!”

“I look forward to it.”

As the car shook its way through the road Bruce noticed a sliver of red underneath the white shirt Peter wore.

You’re in for a long night Spiderman, Bruce thought as the Limo pulled up at the gates of Wayne Manor.