Part 2

Chapter 6: Homecoming: Part 1

Fandom: Gotham

Pairing: Bruce/Selina

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Rating: M

Alfred

The cold did strange things to the city.

Earlier that evening when he had left to fetch the young master from the police station, if he hadn't been such a confident man he may have worried that he'd driven in the wrong direction. For a City that boasted a populace well into the multi-millions, Gotham appeared utterly desolate.

Snow plows and street sweepers were parked idly on every street, but there were no cars, no people. Silence had settled over the city.

If Gotham had been quiet, Bruce had been quieter. He didn't talk during the long drive back to Wayne Manor, or the dinner Alfred had made him.

"Starving yourself won't bring her back," he'd reminded the boy, but Alfred had only received a glare in return.

He wasn't exactly sure what kind of pull the young Miss Kyle had over Master Bruce but he knew it went deep, deeper than mere hormones and a pretty face called for. And if he was a betting man, he'd bet that pull wasn't one sided.

He spotted her not a month after their first fight, the one that had ended in confessions, tears and a shattered snow globe. He'd been talking to the new gardener, asking about a certain tree that the master wanted planted when he'd caught movement in his peripheral. The unnatural disturbance had caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up as he'd watched a shadow glide away. There had been an unnerving intelligence to that silhouette, but when he'd went to investigate all that had been left among the hedges was a trail of small boot prints leading away from the manor.

Soon after, he'd hired a man he trusted, the top security specialist from Wayne Enterprises, to install the most state-of-the-art security system. But even with technology that would impress the most hardened Las Vegas pit boss, he barely caught sight of the little troublemaker.

Maybe it was something preternatural, but he knew it was her. Even analyzing the security footage he barely caught glimpses of her, and certainly nothing that would ever hold up in a criminal case. Unnatural agility let her work the angles and she was able to cling to the most minuscule shadows. It was like trying to catch smoke.

Smoke or not, it didn't take Alfred long to begin piecing together what she had been doing all those times, what her intentions really were. She was just like any good predator, she was watching and waiting.

One evening, not long after 'the Gala Incident,' he had sat alone in the monitor room watching the security tapes from the day as he always did. And sure enough, he watched as that familiar shadow climb into one of the many trees that lined the property.

Noting the time stamp, he kept his eyes trained on the small black mass as he fast forwarded. Watching the numbers tick by he couldn't help the furrowing of his brow.

"What in the world could entertain you for so long?" he asked no one in particular.

Switching monitors, he immediately saw what had caught her attention. Two fencers, their white uniforms contrasting brightly against the dark grey of the grass, danced backward and forward, neither able to really get a hit or retain the right of way.

He couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. Poor Master B, he had no clue what was waiting for him in that tree.

Slightly disappointed, he watched as his young master feinted and lost the right of way before he took a hit to the chest that left him on the ground.

Visibly frustrated, he quickly climbed to his feet, flinging his mask to the ground. Even through the monitor he could tell Bruce was breathing hard, his face most likely ten shades of red. Despite his temper, he politely took his instructors hand and Alfred couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at his well kept manners.

Ignoring his equipment, the boy was turning back toward the Manor when he paused mid-step. From this angle, Alfred could only see the back of his dark head, but imagined equally dark eyes were surveying the tree line.

When Bruce turned back, he had expected the young man to be worried or at the very least concerned, but his curled lip and smiling eyes seemed to be only mildly curious. Eyes back on the tree line, he watched as she slithered down.

He could see it for what it was now, a cat watching a caged canary.

It would be two more weeks before she turned up again. He was careful this time his tread whisper soft as he walked the perimeter of the property. If the girl was anything, she was clever, but her youth gave her arrogance and he knew her eyes would be trained forward, completely unaware of the man following behind her.

Her dark grey hood was pulled over her unruly hair as she kept her head bent down as she approached the tall brick wall that fenced the property. He watched silently as she cracked her knuckles before her slim fingers reached out and caught unseen grooves in between the bricks. It was impressive, the speed and grace in which she pulled herself to the top of the wall. Her hips and legs were still resting on his side, when he made his presence known.

"What do you want?" he barked, halting her progress.

Ignoring his abrupt voice, she quickly swung a single leg over, straddling the brick wall and letting a foot dangle on either side of the fence.

"Was just in the neighborhood?" she answered her body language as arrogant as ever.

"Was just in the neighborhood," he mumbled, doubtfully. "Right? And what bout last week," he asked, bluntly. "Or the week before that,"

"Strollin'," she said, shrugging one of her delicate shoulders.

"Strolling," he repeated, his eyes conveying his doubt.

"Yeah, it's good exercise," she said, pulling up her opposite foot and propping an elbow on her knee. "Maybe you should try it sometime."

"That's enough cheek for now Miss Kyle," he said, already tired of this conversation. "What are you really doing here?"

She merely smirked, her head tilting away from him as she gazed at the trees and the road behind him.

"Are you working for someone? 'Casing the joint' as they say," he asked, his tone thick with accusation.

At his question, her head fell back against her shoulders, her even white teeth exposed as she chuckled. "Nobody says that," she said, mockingly. "And no, I'm not working for anyone."

"Then what're you doing here?"

"Like I told you," she drawled, quickly swinging her leg over so both of her feet rested on his side. "I was just strolling through the neighborhood."

"Then you can stroll yourself along, Missy," he ordered, stepping back to offer her room to climb down.

Snorting, she looked away before she planted her hands by her hips. Effortlessly she pushed herself off the garden wall landing gracefully on the dry road in front of him. She shook her head, her hood falling back as she stared up at him, her green eyes tilted up curiously.

Wordlessly, she turned on her heel giving him her back as she started down the long road from Wayne Manor.

"See ya round ole' man," she called, dismissively throwing up a hand.

"Not if I can help it," he called after her.

Exhaling, he focused back on the monitors ahead of him. Their pale grey screens bathing himself and the dark room in a sickly light. Unfortunately the electricity, a main grid he assumed, had failed hours ago, plunging the manor and he could only assume the city, into blackness, but unlike the city the manor switched over to its alternative energy sources.

The gentle hum of the generators was easily drowned out by the howl of the Northeaster. The wind cut through the trees, the eerie call carrying all the way inside the manor. Cut off from society, alone in this big house with nothing but his surly young ward, a whimsical man could easily see himself as the character of a Gothic horror novel, but Alfred Pennyworth was far from fanciful.

Stifling a yawn, he gazed at the screens, his eyes widening on the small red dot glowing in the corner of one of the monitors the motion sensors having detected movement coming up the lawn. Sitting up, he set his cup of tea on the nearest surface.

The cold had a way of disorienting all the senses, ice masked scents and snow covered well worn paths. All night deer had been wandering aimlessly onto the grounds before the floodlights and their internal compasses had them scurrying back onto their original paths.

But this this was no deer. The way it moved so slowly, its small body hunched and dragging, like every step through the steadily growing snow was a monumental accomplishment.

Despite the storm and the crippled gait, there was something vaguely familiar about the faceless shadow. But he didn't have time to reflect as he watched it stumble and change directions, the dark trail it left behind disappearing in the white down pour.

Standing, he grabbed his gun off the desk, quickly checking the clip. He might not recognize this faceless person, but he had a fair idea of where they were headed.

The fireplace hadn't been extinguished giving the room a warm glow and lengthening the already dark places around the master's study. Carefully sticking to the shadows, he kept his back to the wall as he stepped toward the double doors. It still stood on the opposite side, a silhouette against a moving backdrop.

He shifted his feet, instinctively planting them in the weaver stance. Despite his nerves, he kept his gun lowered, as he heard the jingle of the door knob as the intruder tried it.

Discovering it was locked he expected the stranger to walk away, to try another door another point of intrusion. It drifted away and he was beginning to exhale when it suddenly came charging back. A dark blur broke through the double doors in a whirlwind of black clothes and dirty snow.

Unconsciously he lifted his weapon.

"Stay where you are!" he barked, his voice hoarse from the early hour.

The figure froze, the smell of cold and blood wafting from it.

"Hands up!" he ordered, his fingers relaxing against the trigger at the individual's obedience.

Surprisingly it continued to comply, but he could see its arms shaking from the effort. It was much smaller than had appeared on the monitors, but there was something in the way it held itself, something that kept him from completely lowering his weapon.

"Now step forward," he ordered, eager to put a face to this fairy creature. "Into the light."

He thought he heard it snort, but it stepped forward, or as close to step as the half-frozen creature could manage. The golden light from the fireplace did nothing to soften the image it illuminated. There was nothing recognizable about the creature in front of him, just that whatever it was, it had walked through Hell's gauntlet.

"Nice tasee you too, Ole' Man," a reedy voice croaked out.

For once in his life Alfred Pennyworth was stunned, and could only stare as Miss Kyle crumbled to the floor.

Author's Notes:

I feel the need to apologize for this update taking so long and being so short. I never intended to put this story on hiatus, but shortly after I posted chapter five, I unexpectedly lost my mother. The loss was hard enough but the show was something we shared and to return to watching, reading, and writing about it has been harder than I thought. But ultimately I know she wouldn't want me to stop doing something I enjoy and honestly, I might be the only one, but I really care about this story.

On that note, full disclosure this was not my favorite chapter. It was difficult to write Alfred and he and the chapter kind of got away from me. It was originally much-much longer but after having proofread it, I decided to post and see if anyone would still be interested in reading about Selina and Bruce's little adventure.

Special thanks to CircleintheSand, GreenGem96, The Sorrowful Diety, and especially to Byzniah Lestrange- you inspired me to come back.

Thanks for reading and let me know what I can improve on. Constructive Criticism is always welcome.