Yay! New chapter up the next night! I'm moving the story along a little bit more... I hope you like this chapter and please let me know what you think. I've had no reviews for the last chapter yet... it makes me sad :( BUT - I am determined to continue on! Please let me know what you think about this one and also let me know if you can see the symbols for the scene change...

~Ani

It was her third day at Wayne Manor, and Alaina had barely left her room. Bruce had tried numerous times to communicate, to relate to her, to help her come out of the vow of silence she seemed to have taken. But she'd merely glanced up at him and walked away, dismissing him as effortlessly as one dismisses an insolent child. The only one she'd seemed to take a small liking to was Alfred, which didn't surprise him one bit. It was impossible not to like Alfred. But she simply wouldn't cooperate with Bruce's attempts to bring her out of her shell. He was running out of ideas.

But Alfred didn't seem to be troubled about the situation at all. Every day, he'd bring a tray of food up to her room, smiling and talking to her. She never talked back, but she seemed to listen to every word. Today was no different.

When Alaina heard the gentle knock, she immediately opened the door. Alfred smiled at her as he walked in with a tray in his hands.

"It's a nice choice today," he told her, his voice kind and gentle. "Chicken marinara pasta, with mozzarella cheese. Salad as the side dish, of course." He set the tray on the small table stationed in front of the fireplace. "Hope you like it. Although, I do wish I knew your favorite dish. I would like to make it more enjoyable here for you."

Alaina merely glanced at the food.

"Still not hungry?" He asked. He shook his head with worry. "That's not healthy, Miss. I recall Master Bruce was just the same. Although after a while, his hunger got the best of him. I'll leave this here in case you want it later. I'll be back up with tea in a little while." Alfred began to walk out of the room.

"Thank you."

Alfred stopped, smiled, and turned back to her. Her voice was one of the best things he'd heard in a long time. It was like bells, just like her mother's.

Alaina had been feeling a little guilty. Alfred was being so kind to her, so helpful. He brought her meals to her all the time, even though he knew she wouldn't eat them, because he understood her. He understood her feelings and in the smallest ways, he helped to lift her spirit. She rather enjoyed his chatter when he came up to her room and he never expected anything from her in return for his kindness. She wanted to make sure he knew how much she appreciated everything. His kind, gentle smile made her blush.

He nodded his head. "You are most welcome, my dear." The look on his face was one of triumph and knowing, and it seemed that all he had wanted was to hear her voice. For the first time in what seemed like a very long time, she smiled. It was a very small smile, halfhearted, but it was a smile nonetheless. He turned to leave again.

"It's spaghetti…" She said. "My favorite food is spaghetti."

~()~

Bruce sat in the library, his feet resting on the coffee table, fully absorbed in a book he was reading on the technological advances in laughing gas. It was a new type of attack the Joker was using on his victims, and he wanted to be fully up to date on the chemical. Alfred stood on a small ladder used to reach books on the higher shelves, dusting off the bindings of several ancient-looking publications. He broke the silence.

"She spoke." He stated.

Bruce had barely heard the voice and lazily tore his gaze from the page. "What?" He asked.

"She spoke." He repeated, waving the feathers of the duster over the wooden ledge of the shelf. Bruce closed his book and sat upright.

"She did?" He asked. His face lit up.

"Yes," Alfred vaguely answered with a triumphant look on his face. Bruce smirked.

"Well what did she say?"

"She said 'thank you'. And she told me that her favorite food is spaghetti." Alfred replied.

Bruce smiled and sighed in relief. Although it was the most random thing for her to say after who knows how many days of total reservation, he was finally relieved of one of the things weighing on his shoulders. He was glad for her and hoped this would be the first step toward the healing process of her heart.

"I told you so," Alfred mocked. "All she needed was a little time and some kind gestures."

Bruce gave a small laugh. "You're always right, Alfred." He admitted, although the mock reluctance he tried to portray showed that he had no problem doing so. He sat back in his chair with new hope. Maybe this was the beginning of the end for her silence. Maybe he could finally start to slowly patch things up.

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