In case you haven't been able to tell, I have been suffering MAJOR writer's block. What cures writer's block? Being quarantined apparently! Hope you are all staying safe and not going crazy in your houses!
...
"What is our goal?" asked Alfred, leaning forward over the desk, pen in hand.
"To be able to send her to school so she can have a normal life," replied Bruce.
"And we want to do it as quickly as possible," added Alfred, scrawling several sentences on the paper before him. "So, we need to catch her up in the most important subjects. Maths and English are probably our biggest goals. If we want her to be able to start school this fall, we will have to work hard. Ella will have to work hard."
"I don't want her pushed all summer," said Bruce, resting against the back of his chair, his hand resting lightly on his chest wound. He winced.
"Why are you touching it?" said Alfred without looking up. "I told you not to touch it, or it will hurt. That is common gunshot wound knowledge, sir."
"Thank you, Alfred," said Bruce, his voice short. "I didn't mean to touch it." He sighed, regretting his sharp tones, "Sorry. I'm just tense and ready to get back to my normal life."
"This is your normal life," said Alfred, setting his pen down and rising to his feet. "Your normal life is having a sore knee and a healing body. You can't make it get better any faster, so try to enjoy life as it is. Spring is almost here, and we need to plan a party."
Bruce looked up, "I'm sorry, what?"
"A party, Master Wayne," said Alfred, puttering around the room and straightening a few books on the shelves.
"Yes, I heard you," said Bruce. "What are you talking about? I thought we were planning a schedule for Ella's schooling."
"We are, but while we are planning, we might as well include a party," said Alfred, picking up the tray he had carried Bruce's lunch in on. "I'll take care of this, and you can think about who you want to invite. I suggest Wayne Enterprises' biggest investors and stockholders. Perhaps some of the more elite in Gotham. Anyone who cares about being seen at the party introducing Bruce Wayne's daughter to the world."
Bruce let out a sound between a snort and a chuckle, "Introducing Ella? Why would I do that? She doesn't need to be a part of all that high society ridiculousness."
"No, but we need to keep up your name and reputation," said Alfred. "For future purposes."
Irritated as he was, Bruce knew Alfred was right. The Bruce Wayne that Gotham knew would throw a party as soon as he had recovered, to celebrate his health by drowning everyone in champagne and finger foods. And that Bruce Wayne would want to notch up his social status by introducing the girl that had flooded headlines since her kidnapping. But Bruce wasn't sure he was ready to share Ella just yet.
"How about next month," he said.
"How about next Friday," said Alfred. "Put yourself in Ella's shoes. The only two people she has seen lately are you and me. Now, a child as energetic and charming as Ella cannot be expected to hide herself away with two old bachelors her whole life. She needs friends and social experience. The Pavler family would make an excellent addition to your guest list."
"The Pavler family?" asked Bruce. "Nick Pavler of the city council?"
Alfred nodded, walking towards the study door, "That's the one. Along with his lovely wife and their three children, ages nine to thirteen. Their son is thirteen."
"I get it, Alfred," nodded Bruce smirking. "You always have a method to your madness. Okay, we'll have a party. Ella does need some socialization."
"I'll schedule the caterers," called Alfred, walking down the hall with Bruce's tray.
…
"Oh man, oh gee, oh heck," said Ella, supporting herself in the air with her hands on the stairwell banisters. "A real party? Like with fancy dresses and wine?"
"Fancy dresses and champagne," corrected Alfred, setting a pot on the stove. "Don't hang like that; you'll break the railing."
"So, I'll have to wear a fancy dress?" asked Ella, narrowing her eyes as she dropped from the railing.
"Yes, you'll have to wear a fancy dress," nodded Alfred. "Chop up these carrots and put them in the pot."
Ella stepped up to the kitchen island and picked up a knife, jabbing it straight on into one of the carrots and holding it up, "Can I wear the same dress I wore at the court hearing?"
"No, the press has already seen that one," replied Alfred, sliding diced potatoes into the pot.
"I hate that that matters," said Ella, glaring at the carrots and pulling it off the knife. She began cutting it long ways until Alfred gave her a look of 'are you kidding me,' and she switched to dicing it. "We could put it in the sink with a bunch of food coloring and dye it. No one would know the difference."
"Or we could buy a new dress," said Alfred. "Which I already have. Seven to be exact. You can choose the one you like best."
"Who is to be invited?" asked Ella, digging the tip of her knife into a carrot slice and letting the knife stand upright.
"Master Wayne is deciding now," replied Alfred, stirring the broth he was warming. The smells of vegetable stew swirled about the kitchen, and Ella's mind wandered back to the first days she had spent in the manor, following Alfred around and helping him in the kitchen. They had made this exact recipe on one of her early days here.
"Alfred," said Ella, watching him dropping celery into the pot, "will Dad ever walk again?"
"Of course he will," replied Alfred, removing the precariously stabbed knife from the carrots and swiping them into a small bowl to carry to the stove. "It will take time, but he is strong and healthy. He'll be just as fit as before."
"Will he be Batman again?" asked Ella.
Alfred was silent a minute, letting the stew simmer as well as his thoughts. He sighed.
Ella leaned against the counter, resting her weight on her elbow as she waited.
Alfred stared at the stew, not moving a muscle.
Ella blinked. The silence was getting a bit awkward. "Um-" she began.
"I guess we'll find out when the day comes, won't we," replied Alfred, turning to face Ella and plastering on a very fake smile. "Shall we set the table for supper?"
Ella stayed still as Alfred bustled past her, gathering place settings from the china cupboard. Ella knew very well that Alfred was firmly on the side of Bruce retiring from Batman. He had even created a plan for erasing suspicion from Bruce's name, but Bruce had brushed it off when presented with it. Ella remembered how Alfred had insisted Bruce think it over, even for temporary purposes, but Bruce had grown upset and mumbled something about duty. He had looked at Ella with an appealing gaze and asked her to leave the room. She had heard them arguing before the door even closed behind her.
Ella pushed the memory aside and followed Alfred, gathering glasses and silverware from the cupboard. She stopped herself as she reached for a third glass. Alfred never ate with them, but Ella always forgot and started to set three places at the dining table. She had never found the courage to question the procedure, but it often puzzled her how separated Alfred was from Bruce and herself. Wasn't he part of the family? Of course, she understood that he was hired-help and of no relation to the Wayne's, but hadn't he surpassed that station by now?
From Ella's point of view, Alfred and Bruce were a father and son. Bruce made scarcely a single decision without running part of the situation by his trusted butler. On the flip side, Alfred poured his time and devotion to caring for Bruce's wellbeing. Sure he was paid, but the job description did not include tenderly comforting Ella when she cried or stitching wounds closed on a battered Bruce after Batman had taken a hit. There was something more to Alfred and Bruce's relationship, and Ella didn't understand why they still weren't at the point where Alfred could eat supper with them.
"Were you waiting for an invitation, young miss?" came Alfred's voice echoing down the hall.
Ella snapped back to reality and gathered the dishes in her arms, hurrying to the small dining room she and Bruce used regularly. Tonight was not the night she intended to rock the boat with the questions plaguing her mind. Still, she determined to keep a close watch on Bruce and Alfred's relationship and see if there was something she was interpreting incorrectly.
…
Ella had talked to more people in this one evening than she had spoken to in the entire eight months she had been at Wayne Manor. Everyone wanted to make her acquaintance and assure her that Bruce was 'a wonderful man' and 'a rock in their society.' Ella would smile and shake hands and nod and glance around anxiously to make sure Bruce was still nearby. He would always give her a reassuring nod as he politely conversed with a woman wearing far too much makeup or a blustering businessman trying to impress the young billionaire.
After what seemed like hours of greeting strange people and killing her cheeks with fake smiles, Ella felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Alfred.
"I hate to pull her away from such a wonderful company," smiled Alfred, addressing the couple Ella was talking to, "but I'm afraid I need her for just a few moments."
There was an awkward nod and scattered words of parting between the couple and Ella, and then relief filled the girl's heart as she fell into step beside Alfred.
"I'm so exhausted," she mumbled so only the butler could hear.
"You are doing wonderfully," said Alfred admirably. He glanced down at the pretty girl and noted the fatigue in her eyes. It may have slipped the guests notice, but Alfred knew Ella well enough to see she was getting overwhelmed by all the attention. "I have someone interesting for you to meet. Councilman Nick Pavler has just arrived with his three children."
Alfred finished speaking just as the councilman and his family came into view. Nick Pavler was a picture-perfect government figure standing tall and handsome with a winning smile at his beck and call. His wife, Amalia Pavler, was a dark beauty with sharp Russian features and a practiced smile equal to her husband's. Their three children followed their mother's height, the oldest being nowhere near as tall as Ella, but all took after their father in looks with blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Alfred stopped before them and bowed ever so slightly.
"Councilman Pavler," he greeted, "it is my pleasure to introduce you to Master Wayne's daughter, Miss Ella Wayne."
"How do you do, Miss Wayne?" chuckled Pavler in a voice rich with enthusiasm. "It was an honor to be invited this evening."
"Thank you for coming, sir," replied Ella, shaking the man's hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you."
"How are you, my darling?" said Mrs. Pavler, a Russian accent enveloping her words. "You are simply beautiful, my love. This dress merely enhances a natural enchantment you are blessed by."
"I…thank you," smiled Ella, caught off guard and slightly humored by the enthusiastic greeting. "I am so glad you could come tonight."
"Ah, my children," said Mrs. Pavler, obviously the more outspoken of the couple. "This is Misha, our oldest son."
"How do you do?" nodded Misha, taking Ella's hand in a quick shake. He seemed embarrassed, and his cheeks flushed immediately at her touch.
"Misha is thirteen," continued Mrs. Pavler. "Here we have Lily, who is eleven."
"Hi," smiled Lily, giving Ella a truly genuine smile. Lily seemed to bop up and down even as she stood still, and she struck Ella as a fun person.
"And finally nine-year-old Erik," finished Mrs. Pavler, resting her hand on the smallest boy's shoulder.
Erik said nothing but nodded his head towards Ella before having his attention drawn back to the orchestra playing across the room.
"Very nice to meet you all," smiled Ella, twisting her hands behind her back at a loss of what else to do with them.
"Oh, it's fantastic!" exclaimed Lily. "We never get to go to parties and when we do it is always filled with adults. We are going to have so much fun!"
"Liliana," said Mrs. Pavler in an authoritative voice, "let's remember where we are, dear."
"Yeah," mumbled Lily, her excitement curbed slightly, but the bounce still in her feet.
"We are quite honored that you were able to join us this evening," smiled Alfred, his hands resting on Ella's shoulders. "Now if you will excuse me, I will leave you to get acquainted."
Ella's body tensed under Alfred's hands in a silent plea for him to stay, but he gave her a reassuring pat and bustled away. She smiled as well as she could at the family and hoped one of them would say something, since she could think of nothing.
"I hear you are the same age as our Misha," commented Mr. Pavler. "When is your birthday, Miss Wayne?"
"July 30th, sir," replied Ella, unsure of how to address a councilman.
"Misha's is April 17th," piped up Lily. "Two weeks away! Maybe you can come to his birthday party. Can she, Mom?"
Misha gave his mother a slight nod and Mrs. Pavler smiled, and this time it seemed more natural, "I don't see why not, Lily. I shall discuss it with Mr. Wayne this evening." Turning to her husband, Mrs. Pavler slipped her arm into his and said, "Nick, why don't we mingle and leave the children to their own devices."
"Of course, dear," nodded Mr. Pavler, his smile just as practiced as before. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Wayne."
Ella nodded as the two walked off before turning to face Misha, Lily, and Erik. "Uh, hi," she said awkwardly.
"Are they here all the time?" asked Erik, his gaze still fixed on the orchestra.
"The musicians?" asked Ella, confirming the base of his question. "Well, no. My dad hired them for tonight."
"I'm gonna go listen," said Erik, never looking away from the musical group. He hurried off, dodging servers and millionaires, leaving the older three alone.
"This is a beautiful home," said Misha. He looked like he wasn't sure what to do with his hands and kept tucking them under the tails of his tuxedo. "Our house isn't anywhere near as big as this. We live in the middle of Gotham, though, so there isn't exactly room for large homes."
"I used to live in the city," said Ella. "I like it here a lot more. There are tons of places to do things outside. I found some good sledding hills this winter."
Lily's eyes instantly lit up, and she laughed a silvery sounding laugh, "Oh, I love sledding! We've only done it once when we were vacationing in Vermont two years ago. I wish there were snow now. Do you like snow or summer better?"
"She means winter or summer," corrected Misha.
"No, I mean snow or summer," shot-back Lily. "Winter doesn't always mean snow."
"It's okay," smiled Ella, feeling more at ease with the two children than she had with any adult all evening. "I guess I like summer better. But the sky is so pretty in the winter. My dad and I have some neat telescopes that we use to watch the stars. I like winter constellations."
"We have a telescope, but it just sits in the game room," shrugged Misha. "I should start using it again."
"Let's explore!" said Lily, rather suddenly.
"Lil, cool it," said Misha, rolling his eyes. "We can't leave the party."
"No, no," said Ella, the idea of exploring suddenly overwhelmingly enticing. "I can show you around. Parties aren't my thing, and if I have to make small talk with one more lawyer, I'm going to go insane."
"Yes!" giggled Lily. "Where to first?"
"Follow me," said Ella, doing a quick scan to make sure Bruce or Alfred didn't see her slip away. "There aren't secret rooms or hallways, but it sure seems like it with the maze of doorways in this place." They hurried across the bustling room, though twice they stopped to smile politely at several doting women, but finally burst free into an empty hallway, the sounds and laughter of the gathering suddenly muted considerably. "Holy Toledo," sighed Ella, stretching her arms, "I didn't realize how horrendous it was in there."
"Everyone acts so fake at these parties," said Misha, his hands now tucked casually into the waistband of his pants. "It feels unnatural and weird."
"I don't!" said Lily, spinning in a circle so that her dress billowed out around her.
"You never feel weird," said Misha.
"Okay, let's go," said Ella, feeling enthusiastic about the tour. For the first time since moving in, she suddenly had someone to share in the excitement of the large manor. Bruce had grown up here, so he never could fully appreciate Ella's awe at the wonder of the size. "First of all," said Ella, "I want to show you the main staircase."
"Oh, we saw that when we came in," said Lily.
"Yeah, but we're going to go up it," said Ella, leading them down a hall to the right. Comments on the height of the ceiling or enormity of art were muttered continuously by the Pavler siblings during the out-of-the-way walk to the main entrance, and twice Lily let out a sort of shrieking giggle at the elegant décor of a room.
"Stop!" whispered Misha, his arm wrapping suddenly around Ella's waist and pulling her back against the wall. He instantly released his grip, but for the quick second that it happened, a funny feeling blossomed in Ella's stomach and caused her cheeks to blush as deeply as Misha's had when they shook hands.
A server scurried by the doorway just a few feet away, and the children giggled in the darkness.
"We are spies and mustn't be caught," teased Misha, using a forced Russian accent similar to his mother's. "Lead on, Commander."
Ella, feeling utterly thrilled at the concept of play that had been gone so long from her life, put on a stern face and nodded, "You saved us, Lieutenant. Is the prisoner secured?"
Lily slapped the palm of her hands against her forehead and groaned, "Oh, how I hate this wretched slavery. Just let me be free, my captors!" The Pavler's instant participation pleased Ella, and she felt the fatigue previously troubling her slipping away.
"Onward," she whispered, hurrying to the doorway and peering both ways. "It's clear." She led the little group across the hall and into a grand room; voices brought her to a stop, and she slid up to a doorway directly to their right. "We have arrived, folks," she whispered, nodding to the large entry foyer of the manor. A few people were arriving and handing their coats to valets, but it was mostly empty. "I say we act like we own the place and walk right up," suggested Ella.
"You do own the place," replied Misha.
"Excellent," nodded Ella. "We have that on our side, then."
Misha chuckled, and it made Ella blush again. Was it possible to have a crush on a boy you had met just moments before? She pushed the thought aside. No. No crushes allowed. She had never had one before, and she wasn't going to start now. Misha was just a friend – hopefully, a friend. Ella wasn't even sure of that yet.
"Okay, here we go," she said, stepping out. "Act natural."
The valets, of course, paid no mind to the three children as they hurried up the first portion of the grand staircase. Once they were around the bend, Ella rested against a pillar and grinned.
"Good news, men," she said. "We have accomplished Phase 1."
"Am I still a prisoner, or am I one of the spies now?" asked Lily.
"It changes by the minute," replied Ella. "Upward. Glory awaits."
"For our country!" said Misha, running up the stairs two at a time. Lily and Ella followed, somewhat inhibited by their dresses, but once on the main floor, all three ran in the general direction of the bedrooms, laughing and dodging chairs and statues.
"Okay," said Ella, completely caught up in the play-acting, "we have one objective. We must rescue the kidnapped tiger."
"Kidnapped tiger!" said Lily, bouncing from one foot to the other. "Who kidnapped him?"
"The kidnappers," replied Ella, her voice eerie and low.
Misha chuckled again, "Ah, those darn kidnappers. Okay, let's find Roger."
"Who is Roger?" asked Lily.
"The tiger," said Misha. "His name is Roger."
"Excellent name," said Ella. "They have hidden him on the roof. We have to make it before sunset."
"Sunset happened three hours ago, Commander," groaned Misha.
"Then we have to hold our breath or the night air will suffocate us," said Ella, leading the way down a hall towards the balcony that wrapped around Bruce's bedroom. It had a secondary door in the main hall, and they would use that to access the outside roof staircase. Throwing the door open, Ella stepped outside and smiled as the night air washed over her. It was an unusually cold April night, but it still felt much better on the balcony than it did inside the stuffy ballroom.
"This is so neat!" exclaimed Lily, running to the railing and looking over.
"Don't fall or the crocodiles in the moat will eat you," said Misha, staying close to Ella but enjoying the spacious balcony as much as his sister.
"There is the staircase," said Ella, pointing to her left. She started up the steps with Misha and Lily close behind, and they reached the top in no time.
"Hello."
Ella jumped and spun to face the voice coming from across the roof.
"Dad?" she asked, her heart beating furiously at the shock of a voice.
"Ella," nodded Bruce, walking across the flat part of the upper roof, cane in hand. "And who have we here?"
"Uh, this is Misha and Lily," said Ella, stepping aside and letting the siblings step off the staircase.
"Hi, Misha and Lily," grinned Bruce, shaking each of their hands. "I'm Mr. Wayne. It's wonderful that you could join us tonight. Is Elly doing a good job of showing you around?"
"Oh, yes, Mr. Wayne," nodded Misha, smiling. "Your house is amazing."
"Thank you," grinned Bruce, putting an arm around Ella and pulling her close. "I'm glad you like it. You are welcome over anytime you like. Well, I'm going to head back down to that swinging party. You kids don't know a fun time when you see it." He jabbed his elbow playfully into Ella's side, and she giggled, relieved that he wasn't upset.
"He's joking," she assured the other two. "Can I show them the telescopes?"
"You may show them the telescopes," nodded Bruce, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "I'm going to give a very heartfelt and beautiful toast in about a half-hour, so make sure you are back down by then. That's what I came up to tell you."
"Sure thing, Pops," nodded Ella. "Thanks. Hey, how'd you know we were coming here?"
"You're Ella, and I know you," shrugged Bruce.
"Wow, am I that predictable?" asked Ella, beginning to walk towards the telescopes.
"Always, sweetheart, always," teased Bruce, starting down the stairs. Ella smiled but felt her heart drop a little when Bruce winced slightly, his limp slowing him down considerably. She had almost forgotten about his injury. Ella felt a jolt of fear when she realized Misha and Lily would probably want to know all about his injury.
"Wow, this telescope is amazing!" came Misha's voice, breaking Ella from her thoughts. She smiled and turned to face him, remembering her excitement to show him how it worked, and all thoughts of Bruce flooded away.
Thirty minutes came and went, and it didn't take long for Alfred's soft tones of a reminder to sound from the top of the staircase and the three children to race for all they were worth back to the ballroom. The rest of the night passed reasonably quickly, and the Pavler's were the last to leave the manor after other guests trickled out full of champagne and hors d'oeuvres.
"My mom will let you know about my birthday party," promised Misha as the adults chatted near the front door.
"Okay," smiled Ella, "I'm glad you came tonight. I don't know many people my age."
"I'm glad I came, too," grinned Misha. "See you soon, Ella."
The Pavler's left and Ella waved goodbye from the front door, her arm wrapped around Bruce's waist.
"So," began Bruce, pulling her inside and closing the door, "how terrible was the party?"
"Not incredibly awful," shrugged Ella, "and I'm so glad I met the Pavler's."
"I'm glad you met them, too," grinned Bruce, loosening his bowtie. "Shall we get out of these silly clothes?"
"Please," sighed Ella in a dramatically exasperated tone.
Alfred seemed to appear out of nowhere and chuckled. "I think a hot bath is in order," he suggested.
"That sounds amazing," groaned Bruce, resting his weight on his cane.
"I meant for the young miss," said Alfred, placing a hand on Ella's head. Ella giggled and looked back and forth between the butler and her father.
"That sounds amazing," she mimicked Bruce.
"Who is going to turn on the water for me?" griped Bruce, a tone of jest behind his voice.
"I believe you can manage, sir," called Alfred over his shoulder as he walked with Ella towards the staircase.
An hour later, Ella was tucked into bed, the exhaustion that had slipped away in her excitement with the Pavler's resurfacing the moment she touched the pillow. Ella's dress lay draped over a chair in the corner; a robe, slippers, and book made a trail towards the bed where Ella had dropped them on her way.
Bruce had stopped in to say goodnight, and now the room was dark, a faint glow from the moon streaming in through the large windows. Ella had a slight pull from her sleepy state when she thought she heard a phone ring, but her eyelids were too heavy to care, and seconds later, she was slumbering deeply.
…
"Ella! Ella!"
The voice was so light and soft in her dreams that Ella almost thought it was her mother's voice. No. It was not her mother. It sounded more like a boy.
"Ella! Ella, wake up!"
It sounded like the boy she had met at the party. Her dream was too fuzzy to find his name.
"Ella!"
Ella opened her eyes. This was not a dream. She sat up and looked around the dark room, her eyes landing on a sliver of light coming through her door, cracked open.
"Ella!" came the voice again. There was a silhouette of a body.
"Misha?" she asked groggily.
"Yeah, can I come in?" asked the voice. "I promise I haven't even looked in the room. I just cracked the door and saw your dress on that chair."
"I…what?" Ella slowly climbed out of bed, her entire body heavy with exhaustion. She stumbled across the room and flicked the light on, which was a mistake since it instantly blinded her. She blinked hard, trying to accustom her vision, and then pulled the door open. Misha Pavler stood before her, anxiously looking up and down the hall.
"Hey," he whispered nervously. "Your look different. Your hair is really curly."
"What the actual heck are you doing?" asked Ella, trying to figure out if she was still dreaming or not, and half wondering just how crazy her hair looked after tumbling out of bed.
"I'm a spy," shrugged Misha, grinning. "Well, not really, but we were playing that earlier. And so, I decided to do some real detective work. Just a hunch, you know."
"I have no idea what you're…why are you…how did you get here?" asked Ella, her brain still trying to catch up with whatever it was that was happening.
"I never left," answered Misha, his voice low. "I got in the back of the limo then slid out the other door. My parents never noticed."
"What on earth?" muttered Ella. "What time is it?" She tried to look at her alarm clock across the room, but her eyes were still too hazy.
"3:12 a.m.," replied Misha. "I found this on the roof." He held up a batarang. "Is it true? Is your dad Batman?"
Ella stared at him. She looked down at the batarang. She looked back at Misha. She looked back at the batarang. Then she shut the door hard in Misha's face.
…
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