Chapter 2
"Sometimes you meet such a prince, that you'd rather marry the horse"
-Unknown
March 14, 2015
The shivering girl clung to Batman as he carried her out of the apartment. Robin, for once, quietly and obediently following behind his father.
Gordon was already waiting for them outside, standing in front of a squad car. Katalina sleepily rubbed her eyes, every so often sniffles escaping her. With more tenderness than thought possible, Batman handed off the small child in his arms to the capable arms of the Commissioner. Kat clutched the Dark Knight for only a moment before relinquishing her grasp, tentative to let the vigilante go.
The scene now became blurrier for the girl, who was grasping at the last straws of consciousness. The stress of the night taking a toll on her young body. Kat hardly remembered being placed in the back seat of the police cruiser. Or being buckled into place. However, she did remember the soft, hushed whispers that were exchanged between the two men.
"Does the girl have any other family?"
Gordon rubbed the bridge of his nose, "An Aunt, I think. We'll have to look into it down at the station. Do you think she's safe?"
Batman's gruff voice carried to the girl's ears, "I'm not sure." With that the two famed heroes of Gotham disappeared into the shadows from whence they came.
October 1, 2019
Katalina huffed as she almost dropped her contact into the dirty sink in the girls' dingy locker room. This is why she was always a few minutes late to practice. Stupid eyes. Yet, if she wanted to do cheerleading it was imperative that she changed from her regular frames to contacts. Didn't mean she liked it, though.
Finally wrestling the contacts into their case, Kat pushed her glasses back onto the bridge of her nose. Picking up her discarded bookbag, she turned and headed out the door.
Ow! Light! Kat winced at the sudden brightness of the sun and did what any sensible person would do…she hissed and stuck her tongue out at the glowing orb.
"At least this time, you didn't crumple to the ground wailing, 'My eyes! What a world! What a world! What a—and death!'"
Kat turned to see an amused Clara with Matthew—who was trying not to snicker but was failing horribly—standing behind her.
Pursing her lips, Kat sniffed disdainfully, "Not all of us can enjoy the sun like you, Clara. If I'm exposed for too long, I turn into a lobster." The blonde girl rolled her eyes, while the blonde boy gave her a look of skepticism. Kat nodded sadly, "Seriously, I've had fishermen chase me down by the docks when I had a bad sunburn before."
They both laughed, causing Kat's fake pout to turn into a tiny smirk. Katalina opened her mouth to say something else when her phone rang. Holding up a finger, Kat shot the two an apologetic smile and answered her phone.
"Hello, Lina?"
"No this is Patrick." Kat answered with an eyeroll.
"Ha ha. You should be a comedian when you grow up. You'd make tons of money. Just tell them stories about your life."
"Can feel the love from here, Auntie."
"Good. That was exactly what I was going for."
Sighing, Kat rubbed the bridge of her nose, "Do you need something Aunt Jan?"
"There is a hole where my stomach used to be and judging by the noises, I think it's declared war. Do you think you could drop by and bring me a sandwich or something, please? I'll let you borrow my gray sweater you've been bugging me to let you wear…"
Darn her Aunt and her wonderful bribes, "Fine. I'll be there in a half-hour. Don't waste away into a pile of dust. And stop using the business phone to call me to bring you food. If Wayne catches you, you might get fired."
Her Aunt dramatically gasped, "You mean if he wakes up long enough from one of his many cat naps? I think I'd have bigger things to worry about than Mr. Wayne firing me. Like the impending zombie apocalypse. Or a mob of angry women coming to lynch him for his crimes against the female populace."
Kat snorted, "Yeah, yeah. I get your point. I'll see you soon."
Her Aunt made a kissy noise through the phone, "Love you, Lina. Be careful, okay?"
Kat nodded even though Aunt Jan couldn't see her, "I will."
With that, she hung up the phone and turned back to Clara, "Sorry that was my Aunt, she wants me to bring her some food at work."
Clara mock nodded in understanding and, when she noticed Matthew just standing there, lifted a hand and placed it on his head, using it to forcefully nod his head for him. "Go save your Aunt from the brink of starvation, Kat. We can't have her dying; she makes good cookies."
Kat's eyebrows scrunched in confusion, "You mean those instant-bake dough cookies in the tin?"
"Yes, those."
"Wait. That counts as baking?" came the incredulous response from Matthew.
Clara bounced over to Kat and slung an arm around the red-head's shoulder, "Of course it counts. You still have to put it on the pan and then in the oven."
Kat huffed and knocked the other girl's arm off her shoulder, "Alright, well, as fascinating as this conversation is, my Aunt wants food and I told her I'd be there in a half-hour."
Matthew waved, like a normal person, while Clara tackled Kat into a hug—if only just to annoy the girl.
"Get off of me."
"You know you love me."
Matthew smiled at the red-head's cute scowl. Not, that he would say that to her face. He liked living too much to ever say anything about her being cute or adorable. He watched the two girl's in silent amusement. Clara was clinging to Kat like a koala. Matt shook his head as he watched the two of them argue, the red head trying and failing to push the other off of her.
"…Do not make me throat punch you," Katalina threatened.
Matthew snorted.
Clara fake pouted but released her death grip. Kat smoothed out her now wrinkled blazer. "I promise I'll call later to go over Halloween costume ideas with you okay?"
The blonde nodded in satisfaction, "I'm holding you to that. Oh! And don't think I haven't forgotten about earlier either. Bye KitKat!"
Kat grimaced while nodding in resignation. Matthew shot her an apologetic look, "Bye Katniss, see you tomorrow…if Clara doesn't kill you."
Then the boy bounded after Clara, who was skipping across the GA lawn. Katalina sighed and reached into her book bag, pulling out her headphones after rummaging around in what she called 'Narnia in book bag form'. She scrolled through her song selections before settling on Hooked on a Feeling by Blue Suede. She turned the music up until it blared, blocking out all other noises. Then…she danced.
It was probably a very unordinary sight.
Kat did have to admit that.
A teenage girl twirling and dancing down the sidewalk, jumping off trashcans and using street poles to swing herself around corners. In all honesty though, it was less likely she'd trip when she was dancing than if she was walking.
(Clara called it her "clumsy grace theory". She had observed that Katalina was prone to tripping over everything [air, people, cats, her own feet, sticks, etc.] but she was amazingly graceful when it came to her cheerleading or dancing. It was baffling and certainly intriguing. How could one person perfectly pull off a triple back spring but trip and faceplant just standing up from her chair?)
Turning a final corner, Kat approached her target.
'Pete's Sandwich Shop' was painted in gold lettering over a large glass window overlooking the crowded street. A little sign on the door posting the shop's hours hung crooked under the bigger sign (also crooked) reading : Come on in! We're Open in a familiar messy scrawl.
Kat and her Aunt loved this place. It was close to their apartment and not to close to The Narrows. Plus, Pete makes the best ham and cheese sandwich you've ever tasted in your life.
The bell above the paint-chipped door chimed as Kat pushed her way inside, the smell of freshly baked bread making her mouth water. She strode up to the counter with a habitual ease. The older gentleman behind the counter looked up from his job of scrubbing the counter and grinned, the action making the small crows feet around his eyes stand out a little bit more.
"There she is! My favorite customer!" He greeted.
Katalina snorted and leaned against the counter, "Don't let my Aunt Jan hear you say that," she pouted and placed a hand over her heart, "You'll break her poor heart."
Pete's watery blue eyes twinkled in amusement, "Now we wouldn't want that now would we? Can't go killing off customers, it's bad for business."
"Speaking of business, my dear Aunt is dying of starvation and I need two orders of our usual, please."
"Coming right up Little Kat. Hey! Joey! I need two ham and cheese, one with mustard one without and one of Pete's Sugar Lips Lemonades!" The older man yelled to the cook.
Joey, or as he preferred to be called; Joe, was the thirty-some-year old sandwich "chef" that Pete hired some five years back. Joe had a slight (read: huge) crush on my Aunt Jan, even going as far as proposing to her on several occasions. Aunt Jan took it all in stride and in every situation turned Joe down with a nice, but firm, 'no'. The cook wasn't going to be swayed so easily, and like James Potter chasing Lily Evans, he never gave up. However, unlike James, this 'Lily' could avoid him (sending Kat to get any and all future food pick-ups).
While waiting for her order, Kat perused the small room. A single booth seat sat in front of the previously mentioned glass window, the red vinyl booth seats a little old and worn with yellow padding beginning to poke through. The table was chipped on one end, the affect of it being thrown through the, again previously mentioned, glass window. Multiple times. The white tile floor was showing the beginning signs of needing to be replaced and the florescent light above the counter flickered in and out constantly, but the place had a homey feel to it, despite the fact it was a little grungy. To Katalina it felt like her second home. She had been coming here since she was ten-years-old and her Aunt had told her she wanted to show her something. She had brought the little girl here, and even though she'd been a little skeptical her Aunt had told her that she was going to love the place. And she had.
The nice man behind the counter ("Hi kid, you can call me Pete. What's your name?") had instantly taken a shine to her, making her one of his special lemonades and giving her a dum dum sucker.
The same man was standing in front of her now (though a little more worn. A few wrinkles and more salt than pepper in his hair.) cursing at his old timey cash register and still the same big-hearted man he had always been. With a final curse and a whack that would make the Fonzie proud, the cash drawer to the register dinged and slid out.
"AH-HA! Blasted thing never works right these days. Have to get Joey to unstick it sometime…again," He muttered under his breath.
Kat snickered, but dutifully handed over the exact amount of money.
Pete handed her the bag of food, "Alrighty, here you go little miss. Enjoy the rest of your day and say 'hello' to your Aunt for me, okay?"
"Will do Pete," With a salute Katalina pushed open the door, the bell ringing, and the lingering shouts of, "Tell Jan I love her!" and "Go back to the kitchen Joey!" following her out onto the sidewalk. Some things would never change.
Next stop on her list was a small café on the main street just a few tall buildings away from her final destination: Wayne Enterprises.
She selected a new song (1985 by Bowling for Soup) and carefully made her way to Main Street.
The café, The Coffee Nook, was a nice building. The wrought iron chairs and tables in front of the brick building were shaded by a dark green canvas overhang with a scalloped edge trimmed in white. The name of the establishment was in a dark green lettering on the door. A fancy script making it obvious that this place was the epitome of perfection and elitism. Kat opened the door, meeting a blast of warm air face first. She self-consciously wrapped her coat tighter around herself, hoping to shrink away from the disapproving stares of the fancy men and women in business suits.
Her scuffed mary-janes shuffled across the polished oak floor and up to the black marble counter-top. Kat looked up at the black board behind the counter, deliberating what her Aunt would want to drink. The words were written in a neat cursive with white chalk, not a smudge nor a mistake to be seen. When the man in the business suit behind Kat made a huffing sound and checked his watch, she decided to fall back on a tried and true classic, an iced vanilla latte.
After telling the peppy young woman behind the counter her order (even the barista made her feel out of place with her black slacks, white blouse, and black heels. Pair that with her flawlessly done make-up and cute messy bun and Kat felt like a poor commoner) Kat paid and moved off to the side to wait for her order.
The dim lights made it a little hard to see, but that could also be the fog that was covering her glasses—curtesy of the transition from Gotham Autumn cold to cozy warm in just a few seconds. A little reading area was on one side of the room, a gray stone fireplace at the far end and a bookshelf up against the right wall. The left wall was a long window, polished to a glistening perfection, with two plush chairs situated to face it, yet still collect heat from the fire. To top it off, a faux sheep-skin rug sat innocently in the middle, its soft plushness just tempting anyone to lay down and take a nap.
The other end of the café had a few wooden tables and chairs, each occupied with people in suits in varying degrees of work. Some were talking quietly on phones (no doubt making "life-changing" deals for the lower people of Gotham), some were silently reading over papers and files (The only sounds they made were the occasional page flip), while others were furiously typing on laptops or tablets (no doubt they were the actual workers).
"Vinicio!"
Katalina grabbed her coffee and thanked the barista, trying to send her a friendly smile without showing how relieved she was to be able to leave the café.
Walking out was like a breath of fresh air.
Literally.
To the face.
Cold and bitter.
Her glasses fogged up for a second time. Unperturbed, Kat made her way to the tallest building in the heart of Gotham. Her Aunt Jan's workplace. Standing on the sidewalk outside the building was admittedly daunting. In all honesty, Katalina had been to her Aunt's workplace numerous times, but never in all these years had the tower lost any of its, well, towering presence. It felt like the glinting skyscraper was mocking you from above, silently judging all who entered through her revolving glass doors.
With a fortifying breath, Katalina prepared to march into the lion's den and face her glasses, once again, fogging. She mingled with the crowds of business suits rushing to get in, jostling to and fro between them. Now I know how the cattle felt on those old Western cattle drives, she though derisively. Eventually she made it through the glass doors and was pushed into the main lobby, the crowd dispersing to their intended locations. The polished white floors gleamed under the overhead crystal chandeliers, so polished you could see your reflection in it. A cascading waterfall fell over the back wall in front of the big, bold letters stating: WAYNE ENTERPRISES. Slightly in front of the grand water display was the front desk. There sat her Aunt, looking quite spiffy in her navy-blue suit, but also frazzled if her once professional chiffon—which was now frizzy with wisps falling out to kiss her cheeks—was anything to go by.
Peoples chatter echoed off the cavernous room's walls, sleek shoes squeaking across the floor, while one hand carried a briefcase and the other a coffee.
Phones ringing off the hook.
And when she said phones, she meant phones.
Nine all together. For one lady (in this case her distressed Aunt) to answer. Last Katalina knew, her Aunt only had two hands. No wonder she looked so stressed. With that though in mind, Kat walked up to the receptionist's desk, patiently waiting for her Aunt to page the phone calls to the right floors and people. She unpacked her aunts' sandwich and placed the iced coffee on the desk surface. Finally, her Aunt hung up the last phone and smiled at her niece.
"Ugh! Thank you! You're such a life save—COFFEE!" her Aunt squealed as she greedily snatched the cold beverage and took huge gulps.
Aunt Jan closed her eyes in bliss for a few seconds before she grudgingly parted from her drink to address Kat. "Seriously, thank you. I was swamped with phone calls and I couldn't leave to take my break, so I really appreciate this."
Kat smiled, "Of course. Any thing else you need before I head home for the day?"
He Aunt pursed her lips, "A new job?"
"Sorry Auntie, but I just didn't have the space for it in my bookbag."
"That's a shame. Well then I guess you're useless now so you can go."
Kat snorted, a wry smirk twisting her lips, "Mhm. Tell me something I don't know," she grabbed the remaining sandwich and her drink before kissing her Aunt on the cheek, "I'll see you at home. Try not to kill Mr. Wayne or any of his bimbos, last thing we need is a murder publicity scandal."
A cheeky smirk and wink were quickly thrown her way, "No promises, Kitty Kat."
With a mock drawn-out sigh, Kat tipped her head towards the ceiling (being blinded by the glass chandeliers hanging from the ceiling for a few moments) before shaking her head and waving good-bye to her snickering Aunt. Kat joined another herd of suits leaving through the revolving door, glasses once agai—oh you know the drill, and weaving her way among the crowded walkway. She paid no mind to the limo pulling up along the curb, to caught up in her lemonade from Pete's and the music (Fooled Around and Fell in Love by Elvin Bishop) humming in her ears.
She should've paid attention.
Mostly because the door opened.
And hit her.
Yes, that's right. The door to the limo opened and smacked her right in the chest. Her lemonade went flying, dumping all over herself and the limo door, her poor sandwich fell to the ground and forlornly rolled across the street (it then promptly managed to get hit by a passing taxi and fling itself into a sewage drain opening.) Katalina however, was laying on the sidewalk staring up at Gotham's grey smoggy sky and wondering what just happened. The crowd had enough kindness to go around her prone body, though apparently none were nice enough to not step on her fallen glasses, the crushing sound of glass making her cringe and whimper. A blob of a face appeared above her. The outlines fuzzy and indistinguishable without her glasses.
"Are you alright, Vinicio?" the figure questioned.
Oh no.
Oh no.
OH no, no, no, no, NO!
She new that voice. She knew who only used peoples last names. It couldn't be him. Of all the people whose doors she had to get attacked by, it just had to be his.
Damian Wayne.
Kat groaned and squeezed her eyes shut. Please be a dream. Please be a dream. When I open my eyes, he's going to be gone and I can get up and go my merry way…
1...
2...
3...
She opened her eyes. His blurry form was still hovering over her, unfortunately. She whimpered for a second time.
"Vinicio?" he questioned, managing to sound a tad bit concerned.
He kneeled next to her, "Can you sit up?"
Realizing that, yes, she was still lying on a Gotham City sidewalk and that was gross and she probably had gum in her hair now, Kat grunted and started to push into a sitting position, warm hands coming to rest on her elbow and mid-back helped gently push her until she was sitting up. The hands then quickly removed themselves to drop at his sides. Her head gave an awful twinge and she raised her hand to combat the ache, glaring at the boy in front of her all the while, "You hit me with a car door."
Wayne shrugged, or at least it looked like he shrugged, "Technically, it was a limo door and you walked into it."
She spluttered indignantly shooting daggers at Wayne with her eyes, "Walked into it?! I did no such thing! YOU," here she tried to poke him in the chest, but she missed and jabbed his cheek instead, "opened the door without looking and now," she vaguely gestured to her fallen bookbag, broken lemonade cup, and cracked glasses, "I." jab to the shoulder, "CAN'T." jab to the neck (he made a weird gurgling sound which made her feel giddy), "SEE." She went for another jab, this time hopefully to the stomach, but he caught her hand.
She settled for trying to kill him with her eyes.
Wayne sighed and opened his mouth to say something when a kindly looking older man approached them, "Here you are Miss Vinicio, I took the liberty of procuring some ice for your no-doubt splitting headache."
Thankfully, she took the proffered ice, which was wrapped in a white handkerchief, and put it on her forehead, "Thank you, erm…"
"Pennyworth madam, Alfred Pennyworth."
She smiled at his impeccable manners and British accent, "Well I appreciate your concern Mr. Pennyworth. At least some people these days still have good manners."
Wayne tutted, "Yes thank you, Pennyworth, but I think she's in good health."
"You hit me with a car door!"
"It was a limo door."
"That doesn't make it any better!" She winced as yelling made her head throb worse. Oh well, she was mad, and she was going to yell.
She felt around on the sidewalk for a moment before picking up her broken glasses, one lens was missing completely while the other had a crack running straight through the middle. She groaned, "Great, just great, how am I going to get home if I can't see to walk?"
She was technically talking to herself, so she didn't expect an answer.
"We might be of some service Miss Vinicio, considering that it was young Master Damian who hit you with the limo door and caused this predicament, that it would be only right to see that you arrived home safely."
"Oh, you don't have to do that, Mr. Pennyworth, though it was very kind of you to offer—"
"Nonsense, Miss, it will be no trouble at all. Master Damian if you could grab Miss Vinicio's things?"
Wayne sneered, picking up the bag and grabbing Kat's elbow to help her stand. He practically shoved her into the limo, her head banging off the ceiling as she fell in.
"So clumsy." He muttered.
Kat growled, fixing her skirt and sliding as far as she could away from him.
Alfred looked back to them from the rearview mirror, "Where to Miss?"
Kat gave him the address and as he pulled away from Wayne Enterprises, she took the time to study the lavish limo, a hard task without her glasses, so she relied on her touch and smell.
The seats felt like butter under her fingertips and they smelled like expensive Italian leather. She felt like she was making the cars value go down just by sitting in it. Wayne moodily sat across from her on the other side, arms crossed and broodily sulking at the window. After a few moments, the silence began to grate on Kat's nerves, so she cleared her throat, "So…Mr. Pennyworth, how many years have you worked for the Waynes?"
The older man replied without taking his eyes off the road, "A great many years Miss, I worked for the Waynes when Master Bruce was a child. And you may call me Alfred, Miss Vinicio."
Katalina scrunched up her eyebrows, "How do you know my name?"
They had stopped at a red light, so Alfred took the time to look in the rearview, one eyebrow arched. Kat had also noticed that Wayne started shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
"Young Master Damian has mentioned you a time or two."
Kat gave the boy a dry look, "Oh he has? What did he say?"
Wayne cleared his throat, shifting a little in his seat, "I think it would be best if you focused on driving now, Pennyworth. Please alert us when we've arrived." He clicked a button which made a black partition slide up, blocking the driver's seats from the back.
Kat raised an eyebrow, "I wanted to know what he was going to say."
Wayne gave her a haughty look, "That is none of your concern."
She huffed leaning back against the seat and settled into another awkward silence. A few more tense minutes passed before the limo pulled to a stop and a gentle knock on the partition sounded.
Sighing in relief, Katalina opened the door (mindful of walking pedestrians) and grabbed her bag, stepping out in front of her slightly rundown apartment building. A scoff from behind her alerted her to a presence behind. Wayne was staring at her building with a mixture of disgust and contempt, like a rat was going to crawl across his shoe at any given time, "You live here?"
Kat felt her pride sting a little, "It's no mansion…" she trailed off bitterly. Then she sighed, "Thank you for the ride Mr. Pen—I mean Alfred."
"Any time Miss. It was a delight to finally meet the young lady Master Damian mentions so often."
Katalina snickered in amusement at Wayne's indignant shout. To her surprise when she went to leave Wayne spoke up, "Will you require assistance to get to your apartment?"
She whipped around to face him in surprise, she was fairly sure her jaw was scraping the ground because he made his 'tt' sound and said, "What? I can be polite."
Kat thought about his offer, the stairs would be hard to navigate without being able to see, and grudgingly admitted that she could use some help. Wayne followed her in silence, trailing behind close enough that she could faintly smell his cologne (something fancy, yet so so nice smelling) but far enough away that he didn't crowd her personal space. She self-consciously unlocked the gate and entered the building, acutely aware of the trash and mold growing in the corner stairwell, the broken and creaking steps which she led him up (she stumbled once, he had reached out to grab her elbow to steady her. She observed he had a strong grip, but surprisingly gentle too) and her slightly off-white door, the number 12 hanging at a sharp slant. The two being upside down completely. She played with her keys and turned to face Wayne.
"Thanks for walking me up…and for the ride."
Wayne, in an uncharacteristic move, rubbed the back of his neck with a bit of sheepishness, "I did hit you with a limo door."
"Now you admit it."
"I will admit it was partially my fault for the accident."
Kat laughed and smiled a little, "I'll take that as your apology."
They settled into a somewhat comfortable silence. Until the neighbor across the hall threw a beer bottle out into the hall, the shards crashing against the wall next to Kat's head, "BE QUIET OUT THERE!" he bellowed.
Wayne glanced at the door incredulously then to Kat.
She shrugged, "Mr. Miser—yes that's his actual name—he gets drunk a lot at night and he sleeps over his hangovers during the day so when he gets grouchy and people make noise he throws empty beer bottles at them."
Wayne furrowed his eyebrows but didn't say anything else on the matter.
And just like that the awkwardness was back.
"So…" Kat started hesitantly, "Thanks again and I should probably go before he throws something else at us, but…yeah."
Wayne nodded and with a slight wave, disappeared back down the old staircase. Katalina unlocked her apartment door with a sigh and walked in, dropping her bookbag by the door and kicking off her shoes. After hanging up her coat she leaned against the door.
Stomach grumbling, head aching, and mind reeling, she groaned.
I always knew how to find myself in the stickiest situations.
He always knew how to get me out of them.
A/N: ~Guess who's back? Back again?~
*Ducks behind her laptop* So it's been how many months? Whoops. I'm so sorry about the wait and I can't promise that the next one will be out soon, but here you guys go, another chapter! Now I know there might be some inconsistencies between this chapter and the last chapter and that's because I didn't like the way that the story was flowing from the first chapter. I will get around to editing this story sometime I just don't have the time nor the energy right now to do so. I will though! But for right now it will be a little wonky. Anyways, thank you so much for the reviews! Made my day when I read them!
P.S. My face claim for Aunt Janice is Gwyneth Paltrow when she played Pepper Potts!
R&R,
Ryderdye ;)
