A/N: So this settles it. This is completely AU. I trust you'll notice the differences. :) I have another version of this chapter that's darker and more Nolan-like, but I decided to take the other road, it seemed to fit better. I also rewrote the ending of this chapter again and again with varying amounts of information and dialogue, and hopefully picked the right route.

Thanks for all the reviews, I hope you got my replies.

Chapter 2: Tea Time

Chloe looked at the road signs with a frown. Her memory of where the Wayne Manor was situated was hazy at best. The last time she had visited was a good six or seven years ago, and even then Alfred had picked her up from the train station in the city center. This time she was driving herself and she had to stop at a crossroads to think whether she was supposed to go right or left. She did know that the other one would lead her straight to her destination.

The prospect of seeing Alfred again was doing wonders for her spirits. She had come to Gotham for a job interview at the Gotham Gazette. It was her stab at a new start, or a different future. Thoughts of the Daily Planet swerved to her head, but she pushed them back. Now was not the time to dwell.

In less than five minutes Chloe found herself outside the Wayne Manor gates. She opened her window and reached for the buzzer. A moment later, she heard a click from the speaker.

"Good evening, Chloe," she heard Alfred's voice say, and the gates began to open.

"Hello Alfred," she replied, reaching out of the car window. She saw the camera pointing straight at her and gave a little wave.

"You may leave your car in the front if you wish, and I will meet you at the door," he told her.

"OK, I'll see you in a moment."

Chloe let the window roll back up as she drove in, and in no time she was walking towards Alfred, who was waiting by the door.

"My dear Chloe, it's lovely to see you," he said and hugged her.

"It's been too long," Chloe said against the fabric of his suit jacket.

"Come in! I've already got the kettle on."

Chloe happily obliged, and stepped inside with Alfred following her.

"My God, I didn't remember how huge this place is… I was already gaping when I drove up from the gate, but geez… I always forget."

Alfred chuckled. "Yes, it is quite spacious, I admit, but I've grown fond of it over the years," he said, taking her jacket, "But that could be because I don't have to hoover this place."

Chloe laughed and looked around. "It's this way to the kitchen, right?" She was pointing towards the ajar door just as the kettle whistled. "Ha! I was right."

"Yes," Alfred said. "It's just through that small lounge. I'll just hang this up."

Chloe moved to the lounge and let her eyes travel along paintings on the walls. She noted that she remembered some of them. On one wall there were two relatively peaceful paintings, one which she recalled was by Alfred's late mother. It portrayed their home garden. It may not have been the most original of subjects, but the painting was unique, and she sometimes wished there were more places like it. She remembered sitting in the room almost a decade ago, looking at it in awe. She didn't know much about art, but she knew what pleased her eye. In what she would call an eccentric choice of décor, the opposing wall had a fireplace on top of which hung a Hieronymus Bosch –inspired work. Heck, it probably was an original of his. It reminded her of an apocalypse. Funny how the last time she had laid eyes on it she never thought she would see the beginnings of one.

Soon Alfred joined her, and they made their way to the kitchen, and in the same corner by the window as Chloe remembered was a small round table with two mismatched chairs. She made a beeline for it and dropped her bag on the floor next to it.

"I see you found your spot," Alfred said as he brought two cups to the table.

"I could never forget. I've only seen a fraction of this massive building you call a house, but I love this corner along with the library. It's so normal," she said, gesturing at the simple oak table.

"Master Bruce has expressed similar feelings. I always serve him breakfast here, and usually dinner as well. It is a lovely room." Chloe looked surprised. "What is it, my dear?"

"Just weird hearing such things about Mister Wayne. Doesn't sound like the man in the papers at all," she pointed out. "But I always suspected there was more to him for you to stick around for so long."

Alfred let out a hearty laugh. "Master Bruce is, well, Master Bruce. He plays the part, but he is a good man. Perhaps a little misguided at times, but don't tell him I said that."

They shared a smile, and Alfred too sat down. He took a moment to look at the now grown woman in front of him. It seemed like such a short while ago when she had sat on the very chair with a pillow under her to reach the table top better. She had written stories, and gone through an impressive amount of paper while drawing. The writing had won out in the end.

"So how about this job interview? In your last message you told me you are leaving Metropolis. Would I be so lucky as to have you living in the same city as me?"

Alfred and Chloe had kept a steady flow of phone calls, even the occasional post card, between them, and while Chloe had no idea of Alfred's role as Batman's assistant, or Alfred of Chloe's stint as the Watchtower, the everyday things they did know were enough. Although, they both hoped they could divulge their secrets one day. Unfortunately, sometimes it wasn't their secret to tell, other people were involved.

"I think my time in Metropolis is up, and I thought Gotham sounded like a good option. Then there's the Gotham Gazette…"

"They could use a reporter like you," Alfred said.

"To bring in an outsider's perspective?"

"And one who is and will always be interested in justice and will not falter."

Chloe almost blushed, but not quite.

"Thanks, Alfred. It's good to know I have you in my corner."

"And you in mine," Alfred reminded her.

"You know, you are the only person who can get me to drink tea, and like it," Chloe said, disrupting the heart-to-heart.

Alfred chuckled and fetched a few scones. "It's all in how you prepare it," he said, "it takes years of practice."

"Pfft. You make it sound like rocket science."

"Well, you are very smart and resourceful, as I'm sure are many of your friends. Yet it is only my tea that you drink."

Chloe was fighting off a grin. It was rare for Alfred to tease people, although she suspected Bruce got his fair share.

"Fine, I give. You're the master of the tea brewers."

"Thank you. It was time my skills were recognised."

"Don't let it go to your head," Chloe said in the most serious voice she could muster, but could not hold off the emerging smirk.

"Never."

They spent the next hour talking and reminiscing until they heard the sound of a car approaching.

"Ah, that will be Master Bruce arriving."

"I should get going," Chloe said.

Alfred bowed to get her bag. "I believe I will see you tomorrow. Shall I come pick you up after your interview at the Gazette? We could have a look around some of the places in the city before going to the cinema," Alfred suggested.

"How about I come get you?" Chloe asked, "I've rented the car until Saturday, and I could drive here straight after the interview. Just let me do this for you."

Alfred relented. "Alright then. What time do you think you might be here?"

"Around three o'clock, I'd say. That should leave me plenty of time to get here."

"Then it is settled," Alfred said.

"Let's hope so."

They made their way to the door while Chloe fished for her car keys. Bruce walked in just as they were saying their goodbyes.

"Mister Wayne," Chloe greeted with a nod, and Bruce returned the gesture.

"It was delightful to see you Chloe. Thank you for visiting an old fart like me," Alfred said with a cheerful smile.

"Oh, you're not that old, and anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend. You're the uncle I never had."

They shared a hug, and Chloe kissed Alfred on the cheek. "You're a very lucky man," she said, turning to Bruce.

"Believe me when I tell you, I know," he said. "Ms Sullivan, am I right?"

"Chloe Sullivan," she said, and shook Bruce's hand.

"Bruce Wayne."

Chloe smirked. "Who'd have thunk?"

Bruce looked bewildered and furrowed his brow. Alfred stood behind Chloe looking amused. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I always though you'd be taller."

"I–" He furrowed his brow even further. "What does that have to do with anything?" Alfred contemplated whether he should say something, and opted to stay quiet, and watch the younger generation get acquainted. "And my height is just fine."

"Sorry, but I couldn't help myself," Chloe said. "In the papers you're made out to be this larger than life character. A lame joke, I admit, but it was kind of funny in my head." Bruce looked somewhat amused and Chloe wore an expression that Alfred thought was meant to be appeasing. "Just for the record, you are of a good height and have very nice shoes," Chloe added, nodding at Bruce's feet.

Bruce cracked a smile. "Good to know you approve."

Chloe looked sheepish for a second, but any sign of it was gone in a second. "Yes, well… It was nice to finally meet you, but I have to get going." She gave Alfred one last smile before leaving. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Three o'clock."

"Until then." She turned to leave, but stopped to cast a glance at Bruce. "Those really are some nice shoes." With that Chloe was off, and Bruce shifted his gaze from the closed door to Alfred.

"So," he began, "that's her."

"Yes, sir."

Bruce shifted his weight from foot to foot a couple of times. "She seems…"

Alfred lifted a questioning eyebrow, and Bruce let the sentence drift off. The appropriate adjective was eluding him anyway.

"Is that tea I smell?" he asked instead, effectively abandoning the subject in hand.

"The remnants of it. I'll make some more if you'd like."

"Yes, please." He hung his coat and headed for the kitchen. Upon arriving there, Bruce noticed the cups and crumbs on the table. "Did she sit in my chair?" His eyes were scanning the worn breakfast nook.

"It's her favourite. I'm sure the chair did not mind," Alfred said. Bruce could see the gleam in his eye.

"At least she's got good taste," Bruce said, "as far as chairs and shoes go."

Alfred laughed. He had been right in thinking they would get along.

"And her choice of friends seems impeccable so far."

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't mention it, Alfred," he said with a faint smile as the faint murmur of the engine of Chloe's rental car faded away.