Disclaimer: I do not own Gotham or anything related to the Batman universe.

There were hundreds of situations that Charlotte would consider horrifying if Alfred ever caught her in them – what she didn't realise was, crying into a cream puff in the middle of the Wayne's kitchen during a social event was going to be one of them.

"Miss O'Brien, what are you doing?" came the Butler's gruff voice from behind her.

Charlotte dabbed the tears from her eyes with a napkin as to avoid smearing her makeup before turning around to face the man. Holding up the pastry half heartedly in her hand she replied, "Sneaking dessert."

Alfred sighed in frustration. "That's not what I meant. Why are you crying?"

In the sum years that Alfred has known Charlotte, he had rarely seen her cry. Usually the woman was full of laughter and smiles when taking care of the young master and interacting with their employer. He had seen her eye's well up with pride when Bruce would do something wonderful and occasionally he'd catch a glimpse of her crying along to a sad movie but never had he seen her truly upset.

"I think the Wayne's are trying to get rid of me." Was the only reply he seemed to get before Charlotte had begun to cry again.

"Now why would you think that?" he asked awkwardly. He didn't do well with emotions. He was a military man, they were taught to toughen up and move on. The last time he had dealt with any kind of emotion was when his father had passed away. "Did what I say earlier really upset you that much?"

"No," Charlotte sniffled. For crying out loud she was thirty four years old, she shouldn't be wallowing in self pity over a few dumb comments. But the reality of having to eventually leave behind Bruce and the Wayne's was breaking her heart. "The women mentioned that the Wayne's won't need me soon and that I should think about looking for new employment options."

"Now, Charlotte. There is no need to cry over something so trivial. Those women don't know what they're talking about – it would be a surprise if half of them even know their own children's birthdays," Alfred said trying to cheer up the younger nanny. It felt weird and slightly uncomfortable but what else was he supposed to do, at least he got a small laugh out of her.

"But you said the same only a little bit ago and Martha was very quick to pawn me off on those vultures."

"There is a difference between me saying it to get on your nerves and it actually being true. The last thing the Wayne's want is to get rid of you. I haven't the slightest idea why, but they have grown rather fond of you."

The nanny had managed to calm herself down mentally enough to snort and roll her eyes. "You're too kind, Mister Pennyworth."

"Feeling better already I see," he replied, his voice going back to being laced with dry sarcasm. "Now please remove yourself from the kitchen. You're disrupting the caterers."

Charlotte finished her cream puff and exited the kitchen back into the dreaded party. Unlike Alfred, she didn't grow up around the kind of social norm the Wayne's had. She had grown up in Dublin with a single mother who worked three jobs just to put food on the table for her and her younger brother. By the time she was sixteen she was on her own, working her way through the rest of high school until she had enough money to buy herself a ticket to the States. From there she had spent quite a few years as a housekeeper for different families until the Wayne's took her in as their nanny. Being around people with money made her uncomfortable and overwhelmed, she never felt like she belonged and assumed everyone looked down at her.

The mix in sound of classical music and mindless chatter was beginning to make the nanny feel dizzy. Every noise seemed to be getting louder and the room was started to feel smaller. She needed to get out. Agreeing to attend the party was a mistake on Charlotte's part. An overwhelming amount of stress had been thrust upon her the minute questions about her employment came up and soon an anxiety attack would set in. As she made her way through the different rooms she finally found herself at the bottom of the staircase before she was stopped by Martha.

"Oh Charlotte there you are! Darling, did you find Alfred? Is everything going all right with the caters?" Martha asked gently touching the woman's arm. As Charlotte turned to look towards her employer and long time friend, Martha's face grew with concern. "You look as though you have been crying. Are you all right, Charlotte?"

The nanny gave Martha a tired smile before saying, "Yes. Thank you for your concern, Mrs. Wayne. I just suddenly do not feel well and wish to retire for the evening, if that is okay."

The woman looked like she was about to say something but then stopped herself. She gave Charlotte a smile in return and nodded her head. "Feel better."

-:-

"She had been crying, Thomas. Crying," exclaimed Martha as she shook her head resting in her hands. "Charlotte doesn't cry. I didn't even know Charlotte knew how to cry. She's always so happy."

"I'm sure she was just overwhelmed," Thomas said trying to reassure his wife.

"Oh Thomas, it was just awful," Martha said looking at her husband through her vanity mirror. "They were telling her to find new employment as though we were going to let her go any day now."

"Martha. Darling, Charlotte knows better then to believe those women. When have we given her a reason to believe we wished to terminate her employment?"

Martha turned around, both her hands raised to one ear about to remove an earring and gave her husband a frown. "But what if... what if she wants to leave?"

Thomas gave a small sigh as he stood up from his place on the bed and walked over to his wife, pulling her into an embrace. "Then she'll leave. As much as we would want to... we can't keep her here against her will."

Mumbling into his chest she replied, "I could try."

Thomas let out a small chuckle.

As she pulled away, Martha looked up at her husband and continued speaking. "Perhaps we should have a conversation with her about our intentions of keeping her on as an employee even though Bruce is no longer in need of a nanny. Maybe it's time to explain to her our will? That in case anything happens to us... if anything happens to us, that she has guardianship over Bruce."

"Perhaps that would be best. If it will keep hers and your mind at ease," he replied with a nod. "Although I was hoping her and Alfred would have been married by now to settle any confusion about her stay with us."

She laughed at his attempted joke and shook her head. "You're not going to give that up, are you?"

"Not until the day I die, or when they finally see the truth. Whatever comes first." Thomas leaned down a stole a kiss from his wife.

"Good luck with that."

-:-

The party had been over for several hours before when Charlotte made her way out of her room. The nanny decided to go downstairs and see if there was anything that needed to be cleaned up. She may have been hired to look after the Wayne's son but she still tried her best to help with housework. Especially when Bruce had started going to school, Charlotte got antsy waiting around for the boy so she began cleaning and cooking to help pass the time. More often then not she would spend the day's baking which in turn kept Bruce and Master Wayne's sweet tooth happy and a certain Butler somewhat annoyed. The kitchen was supposed to be his domain and he didn't particularly like sharing.

The kitchen happened to be where Charlotte found herself after having checked the rest of the rooms that were opened to the guests. Everything had been cleaned up and put away. The kitchen was spotless and the counters seemed to sparkle in the moonlight shining through the windows before she turned on the light. She hadn't planned on staying until her stomach started growling and she realised the only thing she had eaten that evening was a cream puff. Making her way further into the kitchen, Charlotte grabbed a bowl and cereal out of the cupboard and placed them onto the counter top. Just as she was taking the milk out of the refrigerator Alfred walked into the room.

"Had you not felt the need to hide in your room for the rest of the evening, you could have something a little more sustainable," the man said glaring at the bowl in offense as Charlotte continued to pour milk over the cereal.

Charlotte snorted, placing her cereal on the island in the middle of the kitchen and sat down on one of the stools. As she lifted the spoon to her mouth she looked up at the man and said, "And put up with all of Martha's snotty friends acting like I'm less of a person? I think I'd rather eat cereal for every meal then have that happen."

Alfred rolled his eyes as he leaned both hands on the island just across from his fellow colleague. "Or you could have asked me to prepare something for you."

"You're not my butler, Pennyworth," she stated, raising an eyebrow to the man in front of her. "Besides, I am perfectly capable of cooking for myself but alas I was too hungry and too lazy to do anything more."

"Really? I didn't realise you were capable of making something other then pies or cakes," he replied, letting his sarcasm seep through his words.

Angrily, Charlotte took another bite of cereal and continued to glare. She noticed Alfred was still wearing his suit from the evening but had long done with the jacket leaving him in just his waist coat and dress shirt which now had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Alfred was everything she found attractive and then some – and it was one of the things that pissed her off the most about the man. He made every little thing he did look good; cleaning, dusting, laundry, cooking – oh god cooking. Charlotte couldn't be anywhere near the kitchen when Alfred was cooking without getting weak in the knees. Which may or may not be the reason why she didn't even consider asking him to make her something after the party.

Her school girl crush on the butler not only made her frustrated with said butler but also herself. The attraction had started not even a week after being introduced to her fellow coworker and had lasted for thirteen years even though he had not once shown any interest in her. Alfred seemed to only tolerate her at best and in turn it made them bump heads more often then not. A little part of her couldn't help starting tiffs with him though and it didn't help that all she could think of when he began lecturing her on whatever, was how good-looking he was when he was irritated.

Blushing at where her thoughts had taken her, Charlotte broke the eye contact she hadn't intended to make and looked down at her bowl. "What are you doing in here anyways?"

It was Alfred's turn to raise his brow at the woman. Usually when he made quips about her cooking she'd fire back. It was clear whatever happened that night had upset her more then she originally let on. "No rebuttal or snarky come back? You really are upset."

"If you came in here just to rub my meltdown and moment of weakness in my face then you can leave," she sighed resting her head on her fist as she leaned on the counter, stirring her now mushy cereal around the bowl.

"I blame Master Bruce's bad habits on you," Alfred said as he watched Charlotte play with her food.

Charlotte let out breath of air and looked up once again. "And I blame you every time the kid acts like an emotionless little prick. So I guess we're even."

For once Alfred gave Charlotte a rare smirk before turning to walk out of the room, putting an end to their conversation. "Please remember to clean up O'Brien. I'd rather not have to look after your mess in the morning."

Out of spite, Charlotte left her dishes as well as the box of cereal where she'd placed them. She would look forward to Alfred's annoyance in the morning.

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