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Back to Gotham…
Selina stood there very poised and still in the Gotham rain and fog as she stared out at her city. Oh, it had been so long since she had even seen her city, it was gorgeous, it was mesmerizing, and it was home. The water slid cool over her exposed skin as she hailed a cab and loaded up her bags in the trunk. Sitting in the back she lounged like a back. It'd been so long…
Sighing she let her eyes flutter shut as she relaxed enough just to enjoy the chaos of being back in Gotham, for that's what mother city really was. Chaos; at it's finest.
"Ya visiting?" the cabbie asked her.
"No, I'm home," she answered letting the Park Row lay thick in her voice then, which had her smiling slyly. The cabbie did a double take on her but kept his eyes on the road as she gave him the address to the penthouse she had recently bought. It was the old one that Barbara Kean had once owned, Selina had avowed that she'd one day own. Now it was hers, paying the cabbie she hoisted up her bags as she sauntered past her new doorman, internally gleeful at actually having a real doorman, before she made it to the elevator and on up.
Time had changed Selina, it hadn't changed much, but with her current profession she had long since ditched her curls for a nice bob cut; it was just easier to manage. Her green eyes and make up were always done as a weapon in her arsenal. Along with her body, she was a weapon, she was a thief, and she was now the best in the business as she dropped her bags and looked around the empty apartment with a smile.
It was really hers! The glee in that knowledge had her sitting before that old clock and just staring out at Gotham.
Her first order of business would be to track down Ivy. Last she saw of her friend was the plant lover becoming like her plants.
Selina was well aware that Ivy was still alive, she'd have heard if Ivy wasn't alive. And while her prematurely aged friend might not have always had the street smarts, or people skills, Ivy was Ivy, and she had a way with plants. That way with plants had been what had changed Pamela to Ivy.
Selina just stared at her city for a long while; she was keenly aware that he was also in the city. But then Selina had always been aware of him since that first night she had witnessed his parents' deaths with him. She could still hear those helpless screams from the boy.
However, things between them had been left complicated, and something she'd really rather not encounter again. Besides they were not teenagers anymore, they were adults.
Getting up finally Selina ordered take out from a Chinese place that had been in Gotham since long before her time, and was likely to be there long after. Rummaging through her empty penthouse she found some candles, an old Marine lighter, likely James Gordon's, she also found a musty, dusty old shoe, a bottle of white wine that did not smell drugged and two cans of soup from WWII easily. The power kicked off, but it was an old building, so she wasn't upset by that as she answered her door to the delivery boy. Paying him, and tossing him a flirtatious wink and tip she took her dinner and set herself up with the candles in front of the balcony.
Kung Pao Chicken, a bottle of white wine, candle light, and the rain; she could think of worse ways to spend her evening as she sat there just savoring being home.
Tomorrow she'd order everything she needed for her apartment, then she'd buy some wardrobe, and then she'd get back to reacquainting herself with the Gotham underworld and cops. Crossing her ankles as she leaned back on her hand she wondered how the underworld was fairing.
Last she remembered, there was a war waging between Penguin, Fish Mooney, and Sophia Falcon, and a new Maroni had been muscling back into the game as well. That did not include the Russians, the gangs, or the cartels that had no doubt moved in since she had left. There were also rumors, or a mysterious shadow that grabbed men up, was stopping crime. The goons she had heard in London had called it, the Bat.
Selina would have laughed at that, but she remembered Indian Hill.
An involuntary shudder ran through her at the thought of that sick projects center. And all the damage it had wrought on Gotham. Selina supposed she was lucky though, she had almost been sent to the Doll Maker, and after the stories Fish had said about the Doll Maker she didn't think she wanted to be tangled up with that sort of sick bastard.
Taking a sip of the wine, she savored that flavor, it was good wine, surprisingly. But after some of the piss she had grown up on it had taken years of refining her palate to know the good shit from the sour shit.
Her eyes absently wandered in the direction that would have taken her towards Wayne Manor, she wondered how he was doing.
Closing her eyes she scolded herself for that weakness, because he was Bruce. She was Selina. And they were not the kids they had been. No doubt if they met now she'd punch him as hard as she could and run like hell. Bruce was insufferable, and a pain in the ass, and an asshole. She was better off without his rich kid, high morals, and insufferable curiosity for everything.
Besides, he'd no doubt grown up, and she had too. They were nothing but fond, complicated memories now. Selina finished her wine before she stood and hunted out her sleeping bag for the night. Tomorrow she'd start on living in Gotham again.
Bruce sat silently in his study, a sniffer of untouched brandy in his fingers as he stared out at the rain showering Gotham right now. He was alone this week, Alfred had recently discovered he had a daughter and Bruce had insisted Alfred go to Julia. After all, Alfred had been like a father to him and he was certain Alfred would win his daughter, Julia, over.
A heavy breath left him as he closed his eyes.
There was another reason he had wanted Alfred to go to Julia, it had to do with a broken dream that had died in the desert.
His own child, if his child had been born, would be two now. Bruce often times wondered what that child would look like. Would the child have been a boy or a girl? Truthfully Bruce could only ever imagine having a son, so when he dreamt of the child he would try to imagine what his son would have looked like. Would the boy have his mother's olive skin? Or would he have Bruce's dark hair? Would his son have that smirk, the smirk Talia claimed made him look like he knew everything? Or would their child have her temper? Bruce had hoped that the child would have Talia's eyes, those lethal sharp green eyes. Honestly, he'd always had a soft spot for predator green eyes, and he knew where that weakness stemmed from, but only two women he knew of actually had that predatory green gaze.
One was in the desert, she had screamed her hatred for him and demanded he leave after their loss.
The other, as far as Bruce knew, was in Europe on her growing career as a thief.
Broken dreams, he mused, there was no child, and there would be no child. Bruce was never going through this agony again; he hadn't even told Alfred about the lost child. It had already been three years since he had lost that child, but still, he hadn't breathed a word of it to anyone.
Standing he putt the sniffer aside as he picked up the latest case folder on the case he had been asked to look into by Gordon. Bruce was pleased that he was still on good terms with Gordon, they had had a strained relationship before he left, but now they appeared to have gotten better. Things between Gordon and the Bat were tentative, but they were slowly building a rapport. There was a sound from the front of the house which had Bruce shutting his case file shut and slipping it into the stack of Wayne Enterprise papers as he strode through the Manor.
"Jim," he blinked twice when he opened the door to see the Lieutenant there now.
"Hey Bruce," Jim's voice was strained.
"Come in," Bruce stepped aside as he let his old friend come into his home.
"I need help," Jim turned on him then and Bruce blinked.
"Of course, whatever you need, what can I help you with Lieutenant?" Bruce said as he gestured for Jim to follow him. Jim had lost his own son and wife to a fire last year, Bruce had cursed himself for not being fast enough to save Gordon's son.
"It's actually about my daughter," Gordon said as he sat.
"Barbara, right?" Bruce said; he had never understood how Jim could marry another woman named Barbara after what Barbara Kean had done. But Jim apparently had a fondness for he name Barbara.
"Babs," Jim said sitting.
"I don't see how I could be of much help," Bruce admitted as he poured the older man a sniffer of brandy and offered it. Jim took it.
"She's getting kicked out of her school, again," Jim said and Bruce nodded as he took a seat. "I'm out of schools to send her to except private."
"I can make a few calls," Bruce said calmly. "Gotham Academy is a prestigious school with a good scholarship program."
"Bruce, I've looked, but with as many schools as she's gotten kicked out of," Gordon sighed.
"I see," Bruce said.
"I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate, she can't be homeschooled like you were."
"No, I suppose not, perhaps arranging for her to have counseling," Bruce offered. "I can speak to the school, and arrange something."
"Thank you," Jim said quietly.
"You did much for me when I was young Jim," Bruce said levelly.
"Babs is a handful since the fire," Jim sighted. "I don't get it, nothing works, not talking, or getting her into gymnastics, or anything, she just keeps getting in fights and getting kicked out of school! And She's So Fucking Smart! I Don't Know What To Do!?" the explosive frustration wasn't new to Bruce as he leaned back in his chair.
"It's never easy," Bruce parroted Alfred then.
"You turned out alright, so what did Alfred do to help you?" Jim whipped around on him and Bruce refrained from snorting at the phrase of him turning out alright.
"Boxing, Royal Marines PT work outs, an extreme change in schooling," he answered honestly.
"I don't know what to do with her!?" Jim sighed sitting down.
"There is nothing you can do," Bruce said calmly. "But I'll make some calls."
"Thank you, Bruce," Jim sighed. They both looked at the news then.
'And in Other News: Superman has once again claimed that Lex Corp is responsible for the recent slew of androids that recently attacked Metropolis…'
"I miss the days where the weirdest things were Indian Hill," Gordon sighed.
"I do to, Lieutenant." Bruce agreed. But Bruce had learned much in his years abroad, and the world was so full of Magic and mystery. He didn't like it. He would stick to the science.
"I heard you were backing the S.T.A.R. Labs project," Gordon said.
"Yes, I believe there is much to learn from the particle accelerator, it should be built and operational in a few years," Bruce said.
Gordon shrugged as he sipped the brandy. Bruce sipped his in silence as well as they sat there.
That's all for now folks.
Enjoy Jive =)