13

Jasmine walked in her door to feel she had picked the wrong address. Her dad was sitting at the table, looking at her coolly. "Um, hi."

"Sit down," he shoved a chair out with his foot. "We have to talk."

She slid into the seat offered her and crossed her arms. "Okay, shoot."

"I saw Zeke today, and asked him how you were doing."

Jasmine leapt to her feet, hitting the table with her knee as she did so. "You did what?"

"Calm down,"

"That twisted maniac and I haven't spoken since he landed me in the hospital. I want to keep it that way."

Brian rubbed his face. "He said you were under a lot of stress, the special assignments Gordon gives you, your friendship with Wayne. Don't get me wrong, I have respect for Bruce Wayne, I just don't think he's the guy to pursue."

Jasmine brought her fists down on the table and leaned forward. "Listen well, because I'm running out of patience. Zeke has no business knowing about my work or personal life. If he has that information, he got it illegally, and I'm going to bust his buns for it. Bruce happens to be the only person who treated me like a person in the hospital, and gave me a chance to get out of the hole I'd been dropped into. I was a cop before that happened, detective. Bet you never knew that. Bruce also happens to be interested in a good friend of mine, Rachel Dawes, did Zeke bring her up? I'd bet he didn't. And finally, if you haven't seen my scars, you don't need to present an opinion about how I should deal with the guy who put them there!"

She turned to walk away, but Brian bounded after her shouting, "Zeke didn't do a thing to you, not a blasted thing! You were hurting and I wasn't there for you, but that's my fault. It's no reason to make crud up about my oldest friend."

Spinning, jasmine pulled her hair back, showing the jagged white line from her hairline to the bottom of her jaw, three inches long, a fourth an inch wide. Just in front of it was a thin, neat line, red a puckered that only extended down about an inch.

"Look at me, Dad! Look at what he did! I went to him for help in a case, now I know it would have lead back to him. Zeke took all the information and promised to help me, and then drug me off in the middle of the night. He beat me up, he carved my face, and he looked me in the eyes and said because of you, I was too important to hand over to someone who didn't know me. He wanted to do it personally out of respect. And then, and then he said no one would ever believe me, and I might as well deal with it." Tears were running down her face, scalding tears of anger and regret. "Do you think I'd forget a thing like that? How could I make it up?"

Brian didn't answer. He just looked at her, really looked for the first time in years. Without a word, he grabbed his coat, and walked out the door.

Jasmine dropped her hair and somehow staggered over to the couch. She finally dialed the number for Wayne manor. Alfred answered, his crisp, clear voice impeccable as always.

"Hey, it's me." She managed, drawing in more air to support her voice. "Is Bruce or Jack there?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Richards, but they've gone out for the night…business you know."

"Oh, right." She said automatically, her mind drifting before she could stop it.

"Miss? What's wrong?" His voice was gentle, with just enough urgency to call her back to earth.

The tears started again, tears she had refused to cry since she had moved to Gotham. "I just had a fight with my dad, Alfred. I told him about my…about an old…I thought the truth was supposed to be better!" She leaned forward and sobbed quietly.

"I'll be over in a minute." He said, and the line went dead.

True to his word, he arrived shortly, bearing an assortment of teas. While the water heated, he let her tell the whole story. Handing her a mug of Australian Bush tea, he sat with her on the couch and frowned thoughtfully.

"You know, I used to be a spy. Truth. I was pretty good at it, matter of fact. It was before Mr. Wayne's father and I became acquainted, but that's another story. Before that, not a day went by I didn't have to lie or fake my way. I hurt a lot of innocent people that just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I didn't want to, but I didn't have a choice." He pursed his lips and patted her hand. "You had a chance to clear the air, and tell your dad the truth about a man that can't be trusted. You came clean about yourself, and for the first time, you said what you had needed to say to someone who needed to hear it. Now, it will cause damage, but nothing that hasn't already been done. All you did was shine your flashlight on the bones. Your father's no fool, and he'll understand that in time. Now, what you have to do is behave in such a way that whatever happens now, no one can say you did anything but the best and most honorable job you could."

Jasmine let her brain process the words for a few minutes, and smiled. "Thanks. Thanks for coming, and listening, and letting me bawl. It's been a long time since I've been able to cry."

The astute butler gave her a wry smile. "My pleasure, Miss."

After a few minutes of silence, Jasmine asked in a more cheerful tone, "Alfred?"

"Yes?"

"Will you marry me?"

Shocked into hearty laughter, he exclaimed, "Well, I'll consider it, Miss."