A/N: Thank you for the reviews! I'm so sorry this took me soooooo long! And thank you to my wonderful beta, Angel Queen.
Chapter Nine - London Calling
That evening, Sarah looked up from her laptop at the soft knock to see Alfred standing in the doorway. He did not appear pleased. "It is past your bedtime, children," he reminded them. "Put your computer away please, Miss Sarah."
Sarah nodded. "Just two more minutes, Alfred."
"No, dear, now," he said gently.
"But I've almost... Got it!"
Curiosity piqued, Alfred stepped further into the bedroom. "Got what?"
"She's hacking into the Ritz's computer system," Nick explained casually, "changing Dad's reservation."
"Nicky!" she scolded, thumping her brother on the shoulder. "I can't believe you just told him that!"
"Well isn't that what you're doing?"
"Yeah, Nicky, but it's illegal!" she complained.
His jaw dropped. "You didn't tell me that," he complained.
Alfred cleared his throat. "Now, children, don't quarrel. And, Miss Sarah, before I reprimand you, can you please elaborate as to just why you are doing this?"
"I'm changing Daddy's reservation so that he and Mommy are in the same room," she explained, biting her lip in concentration and returning her gaze to the screen in front of her.
"Ah," was Alfred's response. He paused for a moment, and then continued, "Well, in that case, I can see that the two of you are having trouble sleeping. I shall go and make some hot chocolate. I trust that when I return the two of you will no longer be...quarrelling?"
They both nodded, wide grins on their faces. "Oh no, we'll have stopped fighting by then."
Alfred nodded and left the room, deciding he hadn't heard the giggles that broke out behind him.
Bruce slept for most of the flight, which Diana had really expected; it wasn't often he got time away from Gotham, in either of his alter egos, and there was literally nothing to worry about whilst on the flight to London. Gotham was in safe hands with Nightwing watching over it, and the children were under Alfred's excellent care.
She'd opened her book early on in the flight to indicate that he didn't have to talk if he'd rather get some much-needed rest; he gave her a grateful smile, then thirty seconds later was fast asleep. Diana had smiled and helped herself to more complimentary champagne. A girl could get used to traveling first class.
As the pilot announced they were coming into land at Heathrow, she touched his hand. "Bruce, we're landing," she said softly.
"Mmm?"
She smiled at his groggy expression. "You really are tired, aren't you?"
He nodded and yawned, then buckled his seatbelt. Soon the plane banked, and within twenty minutes they were taxiing to a stop outside the terminal building. The stewardesses smiled and thanked them for flying with British Airways as they left.
Bruce still looked half-asleep, and chuckling gently, Diana steered him through passport control and into the limo that met them. He yawned again. "Don't know what I'd do without you..."
Diana smiled and looked away. "I take it you didn't get much sleep last night?" she asked quietly.
"Riddler, Ivy, and Freeze," he said wearily. "Then the kids got up early for God knows what reason."
"When was the last time you had a full nights' sleep?" she asked.
He thought about it for a moment. "Nineteen eighty six."
Diana laughed shook her head. "I'm sure we can remedy that while we're over here."
When they stopped outside the Ritz Hotel, they walked to the reception desk and were greeted by an extremely polite receptionist. Now looking much more alert, Bruce gave his name and said that he'd reserved two rooms for them.
She checked, fingers moving swiftly over the keys. The computer made an ominous little beep. She frowned, tried again, but there was still nothing. Finally she looked up with an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne, but I've no record here of you booking any room."
"Could you check again? I'm sure I did," he said politely, a suspicion growing. From the expression on Diana's face, it was the same with her.
The receptionist did as he'd asked, but shook her head. "I'm sorry, but all we seem to have left is the Brönte suite."
They looked at each other. It didn't take a world-class detective to figure out who the culprit behind this mess was. "Sarah."
The receptionist looked enquiringly at them. "Excuse me?"
"Are you absolutely sure you don't have anything else?" Bruce asked.
"Positive, sir. That's it, I'm afraid," she said apologetically. "Will you be taking it?"
"Yes," Diana sighed. "Thank you."
The woman smiled and handed over the key-card to their room. "Floor four," she said. "The porter will take your luggage up for you. Enjoy your stay, sir, madam."
They entered the elevator in annoyed silence. Until Diana let out a chuckle, and then another. "I cannot believe she did that!"
Bruce grinned. "I can."
Diana sighed. "They're both quite determined aren't they?"
"Can you blame them, really?" he asked softly. "It's what every kid wants, isn't it?"
His gaze was direct and heavy, so it was impossible for Diana to ignore his implication. He wasn't trying to guilt her into anything, but it wasn't only their children that wanted it. She wondered if he knew it was the same for her. If he didn't yet, then it wouldn't be long. She'd wanted a chance, as Dinah had said. Away from the children, an opportunity to test if she loved him as a man. London was that chance.
The Brönte suite was enormous, and beautifully furnished. Thankfully, it had more than one bedroom – Diana knew she wanted something, but she wasn't sure if she was ready for sex just yet. Especially since she still had no recollection of their first time, when the twins were conceived.
After tipping the porter, Diana stood and looked at her suitcase. She really couldn't face unpacking just yet. Her stomach chose to agree by rumbling loudly, and she tried to remember the last time she ate. On the flight, but airline food, even in first class, wasn't great.
The phone on the wall rang. "Hello?"
"Miss Prince? I have your publicist waiting to speak to you, madam."
"Oh, thank you. Put her through."
"Diana?"
"Hello, Stephanie," she replied.
Stephanie Steele had been her PA since her first publication, and as far as Diana was concerned, was worth her weight in gold. She'd organised every detail of this trip – apart from the rooms – and all Diana had to do was show up on time. She was grateful for it, since it afforded her more time to spend with the children.
"How was your trip?"
"Smooth," she said. "There was a little hiccup at the hotel, but it was all sorted in the end."
"Okay, good. Get some rest, and the car will be at the Ritz at nine tomorrow morning to take you to the book signing at Waterstone's, off Trafalgar square."
"Thanks."
"Take care, Diana. Call me if there are any problems."
"Will do. Bye."
"Enjoy yourself!"
Yes. I think I will, she thought. Still hungry, she left her bedroom and knocked on Bruce's door. "Come in."
She pushed open the door to see that somehow Bruce had already unpacked and was also speaking on the phone. To Nick, it sounded like. Seeing her, he motioned her inside and pressed speakerphone.
"– long to get there, Dad?"
"About six hours, but we're at the hotel now. Your mother's here too."
"Oh, hey, Mom!"
"Hello, little sun," Diana replied, smiling fondly.
"How come you're in the same room as Dad?" he asked innocently.
Bruce and Diana rolled their eyes at each other. "There was a mix-up on the hotel's computer system," she said.
"Aw, shame. Guess you could've used Sarah, huh?"
"Where is Sarah?" Bruce asked.
"In the kitchen with Alfred. We're having blueberry cheesecake for dessert."
Diana's stomach involuntarily rumbled again. Bruce grinned at her. "Cheesecake sounds good. Give our love to Sarah, alright? And be good for Alfred."
"We will. Bye, Dad. Bye, Mom! Have fun!"
Nick put the phone down – but not before they all quite clearly heard him say, "Sarah, it worked! They're in the same –"
Diana chuckled. "I cannot believe how sneaky she can be sometimes."
Bruce had the good grace to look ashamed of himself. "Well, we know who to blame for that."
Diana motioned with her head toward the door. "I'm hungry. Do you want to go and get dinner?"
"Sure."
The hotel's restaurant was Michelin-starred, and the food exquisite, but Diana found she couldn't focus on the food. This felt like a date, and wasn't helped by the fact that Bruce seemed to be almost as tense as she was. He ate slowly, almost as if something was blocking his throat. Between the fish and main courses, he finally got it out.
"She knows," he said suddenly.
Diana raised an eyebrow. "Who knows what?"
"Sarah. She knows about me."
Diana felt her jaw drop. "What?!" Then outrage filled her. "How could you tell her? Bruce, we agreed that we'd keep the children out of –"
He closed his eyes for a brief second. "I knew you'd react like this. Diana, of course I didn't tell her! Have you met our daughter, for God's sake? She's smarter than most adults I know!"
"If you didn't tell her, then how did she find out?" she asked frostily.
"I don't know, alright? She refused to say either, but a few nights ago...there she was, in my chair at the computer when I got back."
Diana sighed and forced herself to think clearly, and not about the fact that finding the Batcave was the first step to her daughter becoming immersed in the dangerous world her parents inhabited. "Alright," she said, "is it possible that her powers have developed? That that's how she found the Cave?"
"I had considered it," he said. "But she hasn't shown any signs yet. Said she'd used a chair to open the clock, which if she could fly she wouldn't have needed to do."
"True." Diana ran a hand through her hair. "Hera."
"Exactly," Bruce agreed.
"Well, if Sarah knows, how long until Nick does as well?" she asked. "They share everything. And me? If her powers have developed, then by a process of elimination I'm the only parent she could have inherited them from."
"Yes – but as I said, I don't believe she has her powers yet."
Diana sighed again, and pushed her plate away, no longer hungry. She stared into space, heart fully of worry and head full of questions. Bruce put his hand on hers. "We always knew this was coming, Princess," he said gently.
She nodded. "I know. I was just hoping to postpone the inevitable for a while longer."
"Like for the next thirty years?" he smiled.
The corner of her mouth curled up. "Something like that." She squeezed his fingers. "I just... now that they know, how much longer can they stay innocent?"
"Children, lunch!"
At Alfred's announcement, Nick looked up from his drawing and left the drawing room, walking slowly to the kitchen. Sarah joined him, chattering away about something she'd learned in science class the other day, but Nick wasn't really listening. He missed Mom and Dad – they'd been gone three days now, and London had been on his mind for a while. He'd been trying to draw Big Ben, but having never been to London – or even England – he really knew nothing about it.
However, he knew someone who did.
As the twins entered the kitchen, Alfred had his back to them, making the finishing touches to their lunch. "Hey, Alfred?"
He turned. "Yes, Master Nick?"
"You're British, right?"
Alfred's mouth twitched. "Yes, Master Nick, though I have been an American citizen for some years now."
"What's it like? Britain, I mean," he added.
"Is it really different?" Sarah asked, climbing up on the stool next to her brother.
"Not really," the butler said, placing sandwiches in front of them. "There are a few differences in language, the weather, et cetera. And we drink more tea."
They both giggled before Nick sobered. "Yeah, but like...it's a lot smaller than here, right?"
"Correct," Alfred confirmed. "A small country, but a great one. Hence Great Britain."
"Cool," Nick said, not quite getting to his point, "but if it's really small, does that mean everyone knows the Queen and stuff?"
Alfred smiled. "Well it is small compared to many other countries, Master Nick, but is still home to over sixty million people. You don't know the President, for instance, do you?"
"Daddy's met him," Sarah piped up. So had Mommy, in the course of saving the world, but she wasn't going to tell Alfred she knew that. "Anyway, what's London like? That's where the Queen lives, right? Have the people there met her?"
"Yes, she does live there some of the time," Alfred told them. "And London is... Well, I imagine it's changed somewhat since I was last there."
Neither twin missed the slight sadness in his voice. "When was the last time you were there?"
Alfred took a deep breath. "Two days after VE Day 1946, when I crossed the Atlantic Ocean to come here. I've not been back since."
"Why not?" Nick asked. "Hasn't Dad ever given you a vacation?"
Alfred smiled. "He has, but I found being there too painful. I couldn't face returning."
Both children were rapt now, hanging on his every word. It was the first time in Nick's memory Alfred had spoken this candidly about life before working for the family, and he had no desire that he should stop now. "Why is it painful, Alfred?" Sarah asked. "Who...?"
Nick could see what she was thinking. In this family, pain meant love. It meant losing someone you loved.
Alfred took another sip of his tea before replying. "A young lady called Evelyn, whom I loved very much. We were engaged to be married when I was only eighteen."
"So why didn't you get married?"
"She died," he said simply, his grey eyes no longer seeing the children in front of him. "In one of the German bombing raids on London."
"... why?" Sarah whispered, her eyes brightening just a little with tears.
Alfred focused on her once more. "It was war, my dear. Both sides did terrible things. Though many British people lost their lives that night, many German people were also killed when the Allies bombed Germany the following year."
"You must miss her," Nick said quietly.
Alfred nodded. "I do still, sometimes, but I've lived a good life. I know that is what she would have wanted."
Sarah stayed quiet. "Tell us about her?"
Diana wiped her eyes and tried valiantly to pull some air into her lungs. Her chest was shuddering with laughter at the image Bruce's words were conjuring. "Just – her IQ is one-fifty-six?" she gasped.
He nodded, also laughing. "And then when she said that she was a genius, I wanted to tell her she was a princess too!"
Diana laughed again, then had to consciously stop and take several deep breaths. After a few moments they calmed down enough to talk properly. She sighed, though far more good-naturedly than she had when discovering how much Sarah knew. "What are we going to do with them?"
Bruce smiled. "Love them. And deal with everything else when it comes."
They were currently strolling through London together, having escaped from the cocktail party that had come after the award ceremony. Diana hadn't won, but didn't mind, since it hadn't really been the point of coming to London anyway. Or at least it hadn't been since Bruce had offered to come with her.
Diana had been to London before, but never outside of her League capacity, so walking along the street and being totally anonymous was a novel – and welcome – experience. She was walking next to Bruce Wayne, so anonymity wasn't complete, but the attention he was getting was far less than it would have been in the States. They were garnering second glances rather than paparazzi.
Not looking where she was going, she tripped on a paving stone. Bruce, of course, caught her hand to stop her falling. Diana thanked him, and then decided that she wanted to keep hold of his hand.
He glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. She shrugged and carried on walking. "Where do you want to go first?" he asked.
"How about the London Eye?" he asked, pointing across the river.
"Is it still open?" she asked, looking doubtfully at her watch.
"I'm sure they won't mind keeping it open a little longer," he assured.
Diana rolled her eyes. "Right, I forgot who I was talking to. What's it like to get everything you want whenever you want it?" she teased.
"Boring," he replied. "But then that's why I keep you around, Princess. Just for the excitement of never getting my own way. Of course I can't claim to be right all the time – that is, after all, your job."
"No," she said, "that hasn't been my job since Sarah was born."
After a hailing a cab to the London Eye, Diana tried not to let her eyes bug out at how thick the wedge of fifty pound notes that Bruce handed to the ticket master was. She had a feeling that their 'flight' wasn't going to be limited to an hour.
She couldn't feel any regret at that – or nervousness. That had faded by the second day, replaced by impatience. She was wasting time by being timid – now it was just getting to a situation where they were alone, unobserved and she could...tell him.
And one hundred and thirty five metres above London seemed to be the best opportunity she was going to get.
"Can I have a cookie please, Alfred?" Sarah asked.
"Yes, dear," he replied, "when you finish the sandwich you have hidden in your napkin."
Sarah coloured, then looked down at her lap. Half her chicken sandwich was still uneaten, but there was no point in protesting that wasn't the case. Neither was their any point in scowling or getting irritated – not at Alfred. It would get her nowhere. So she ate the rest quickly, in big bites.
Nicky had already finished his, of course, and was looking somewhat covetously at hers. Ordinarily Sarah would have been only-too-happy to give it to him, but with Alfred watching them that would be impossible. Finally she finished her sandwich, then looked expectantly up at Alfred.
Only to be rewarded by a fresh fruit salad and a smile. "When you finish your fruit, then you may have cookies," the Englishman said.
Seeing again the futility of arguments, Sarah accepted her bowl of strawberries, grapes, blueberries, banana and kiwi fruit without complaint.
Once Alfred's back was turned, Sarah took all Nicky's blueberries while he took the rest of her grapes. They could just tell Alfred which they preferred, but it was more fun this way. Out in the hallway, the phone rang, and the butler stood. "I'll be back in a moment, children."
"Okay, Alfred," they chorused.
As soon as his footsteps faded from earshot, Sarah turned to her brother with an eager expression. "Have you been practicing?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I think I can pretty much fly on command now." With a slight grimace, he amended that. "Hover, anyway."
Sarah's eyes were wide as she looked up at one of the cupboards. Specifically the cupboard that housed all the treat foods – the ones that generally caused cavities or sugar-rushes. "Can you reach the top shelf?"
His face lit up. "Cookies!"
She nodded, then slipped off her stool, tiptoeing to the door. "I'll keep a lookout," she whispered.
"Okay."
Despite knowing she should be watching out for Alfred, Sarah kept glancing at her brother; his face screwed up in concentration for a moment, then his feet slowly lifted off the floor. "Did it!" he cheered.
"Hurry up!" she hissed, gesturing to the shelves that beckoned invitingly.
"Which ones do you want?" he asked. "Oreos?"
She stuck her tongue out in disgust. "No, not store cookies, Alfred's nice ones!"
He nodded, floated a little higher. "Wow!"
"What?" she asked excitedly.
"There are like twenty different kinds!" he said, looking down at her with excited blue eyes. "Which ones should I get?"
Abandoning the door altogether, Sarah moved to just underneath her brother, lured by the prospect of Alfred-cookies. "Are there any white chocolate ones?"
"Yeah, a whole bunch! With raspberry and dark chocolate and –"
"Ahem."
Nicky's concentration broke, and he fell out of the air. "Argh!"
Right on top of his twin. "Ow! Nicky! What –"
Both of them remembered all at once what had made Nicky fall, and they looked in unison at the Englishman standing calmly in the doorway.
"Oh. Crap."
Sarah offered a nervous smile. "Uh, hi, Alfred."
A/N: Review please!