A/N: Double update! These next two chapter I imagine take place during episodes 13-14 of season 1.
"Close your eyes, so many days go by.
Easy to find what's wrong, harder to find what's right.
I believe in you, I can show you that I can see right through all your empty lies."
"Dance with the Devil" –Breaking Benjamin
Chapter Twelve:
The next day was quite pleasant, warm and sunny, with a brisk little breeze. It was the kind of day that made Margot glad to be working outside.
She was fertilizing the vast green lawn when she caught sight of a familiar figure approaching.
"Good to know you're still hanging around here, gimpy," said Cat as she neared.
Margot smiled. "I could say the same, kid. Are you coming back to stay?"
"Just for a visit," she responded glibly as she sauntered past. She turned and walked backwards towards the manor as she called back to Margot, "When are you going to take me on another ride?"
"Whenever you want."
"How 'bout when I'm done here?"
Margot checked her watch. "Yeah, I suppose I could use a break."
"Cool." Cat grinned and disappeared through a window.
Margot continued to fertilize, realizing how relieved she was that the girl was safe. She hadn't realized it, but Cat had grown on her. Maybe it was just her resemblance to the actual pet cat that Margot had had as a child.
It hadn't been more than a few minutes when Cat reappeared through the window, racing across the grounds as fast as she could go.
"Hey!" Margot shouted to her. "Where are you going?"
The girl didn't respond. She didn't even look at her. She just leapt up over the wall and disappeared.
Margot couldn't help but feel uneasy. She'd never seen the girl so upset. She glanced at the open window, watched the curtains breeze lazily through it as she wondered what had happened.
Margot was still a little preoccupied with Cat as she made her way to the kitchen, where she'd left her homework after lunch. She found Alfred sitting at the table, quietly nursing what looked like a glass of gin and tonic. He'd undone his waistcoat and rolled up his sleeves, his tie hanging loosely from his neck.
He glanced up when she entered, murmuring with a hint of surprise, "Margot."
"You haven't seen my backpack near here, have you?" she asked, glancing around.
"That wouldn't be the one that smells of fertilizer, would it?" he inquired.
She grimaced wryly and nodded. "Probably."
He slowly got to his feet and reached into the storage closet, pulling her backpack from it. "I nearly tossed the thing," he told her. "It's hardly more than rags."
"Sorry," Margot apologized. "I didn't mean to leave it lying around."
The man shrugged and returned to his place at the table.
Margot was about to turn and leave, but something held her back. She looked at Alfred, noticing the invisible weight that seemed to sit on his hunched shoulders, deepening the creases on his face.
"Is something wrong, Alfred?"
He glanced up and distractedly shook his head. "No," he murmured. "Nothing." A heavy sigh escaped him as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Just a spot of adolescent drama, I suppose."
"I noticed Cat come by earlier," Margot noted. "She left in a hurry."
Alfred scoffed. "Yeah, well…" Sipping at his drink, he continued, "Master Bruce was quite worked up about it."
Margot shrugged and joked softly, "You know how we women are."
Alfred met her gaze with a wry smile. "Cunning, and lairy, and damnably irresistible the lot of you." He extended one leg, pushing a chair out with his foot. "Sit," he invited her.
She sat, mostly out of surprise for even being invited, placing her backpack on the table.
The man nodded at it, his eyes landing on the book that peeked out through a hole in the broken zipper. "I couldn't help but notice that you're studying Chaucer." He took a drink and added, "So is Master Bruce, coincidentally enough. He requested it this morning."
Margot thought she could withstand the suspicious look he leveled at her, but she broke after a few moments. "All right. Yes, it's true. He's been helping me with my lit class."
To her surprise, an amused smile played on Alfred's lips. "Tutoring from a twelve-year-old boy?" he inquired.
"It was his idea," she explained. "He told me you knew all about literature and offered to relay what he learned to me."
Alfred sat forward in his chair, cocking his head curiously to the side. "And you didn't think to come directly to me?"
Margot flushed a little with embarrassment. "Surely you have far more important things to do."
"You wouldn't be wrong there," he agreed. "Still, I've been known to have the occasional free evening once Master Bruce retires for the night. I'd be happy to help."
"You would?" she asked in disbelief.
Alfred finished his drink and turned the empty glass in his hands, staring fixedly at it. "One can always benefit from a rigorous study of the old masters," he told her quietly. Glancing up, he inquired, "Can I offer you a drink?"
Margot was tempted to accept. But then she remembered how late it was, and that her mother was expecting her. Even if she stayed for just one drink, that meant waiting for it to settle before she'd be fit to drive herself home. She shook her head reluctantly. "I really should be getting home." Rising, she shouldered her backpack and regarded the man at the table with a small, grateful smile.
"Thank you, Alfred."
He nodded and watched her go in thoughtful silence.