It's was a rare, cloudless night in Gotham. The moonlight unhindered as wind blew wispy clouds away. An unfamiliar brightness to the slums of The Narrows. Marcus was to her left, hands clasped behind his back, Damien to her right, looking appropriately menacing for such a slight figure. She could hear the ruckus from her diner in her back alley, apparently Two Face was making a move and his goons had taken their free time to grab food to-go before their "work" started.
The Chef sat on a spare milk crate, watching the smoke from her cigarette slip away as wind howled through the alley way, making sure if the wind shifted, Damien wouldn't get a face full of toxin.
Her bad habit didn't need to be his.
A car pulled up to the mouth of the alley, headlights off, and she could make out the sound of a car door opening, before closing.
Deker and Tazer guided Mouse to her, blocking his path to freedom.
He wouldn't get out one way or another.
Mouse usually lived up to his name. Quiet, meek, small, but as he stood tall in front of The Chef, he didn't fidget, or avert his gaze as he normally would.
He looked resigned, calm.
He seemed to accept his fate.
"Mouse." Smoke trailed from her lips.
"Mama Chef." Even his voice was firm.
"You're working with Red Hood." It wasn't a question but he nodded an affirmative. "Was this before or after he kidnapped me?"
"Before." He had the grace to look ashamed, wincing as he spoke the word.
"Did you have a hand in that?"
"Yes." From the corner of her eye, she saw Marcus shift slightly, Damien stayed still. Deker and Tazer both shook their heads in disappointment. Mouse was a fence. He wasn't one you took on a job, he was the guy who knew several guys. He pointed you in the direction of jobs, or sold loot for cash.
Now, Mouse was a Mole.
"Why?" The Chef brushed colourful ribbon aside as she unscrewed her flask, she was too lazy to burn the knot securing the streamers away. She took a sip, still staring Mouse down.
"He... He said you wouldn't be hurt, that you were bait." Mouse's strong demeanor cracked, and he shifted from foot to foot. "The Joker is weirdly soft on you, I figured his possessivenous would lure him to Hood."
"Killing Joker won't fix this city." Damien flinched.
"Yes it would! We'd be a hell of a whole lot better!" Mouse's voice steady rose. "Hood is trying to take over, we'd be united! No more terf wars! No more bullshit and we get decent cuts!"
"He killed Falcone, and it led to a power grab. How many goons are dead because of that?" The Chef kept her voice even. "How many, Mouse? How many faces are we missing each week in Hodge-Podge?" Mouse fumbled a moment but plastered a sneer to his face.
"They weren't goons, they were Mafia 'Family'. They weren't like us."
"You know how many of our friends died rescuing Mama Chef!" Deker growled out, Tazer holding him back. "They ate at the same tables as the rest of us, Mouse!"
"So?! Just because we have a meeting once a month at the Goonion doesn't make us friends! Just because there are a few places in the city we aren't allowed to fight doesn't make us friends! How many times have you been jumped because you wondered into the wrong burrow?" Mouse started to wring his hands. "We're a ticking time bomb with a faulty counter. We're one second away from all out war with each other at the whims of crazies who try and kill the city all because they got something to prove to a dude dressed as a bat!" His voice was raising in pitch. He was nervous.
"So you would take a chance at a crazy with a biker asthetic who's looking to shake things up, than the tentative peace we have is flipped on it's ass, for... What? A decent cut? A dream and a prayer?"
"I'd take a chance on someone who's not hellbent on world domination, a sane criminal who just wants to live dirty. Who isn't some evil mad scientist who can freeze the city or has a gas that makes you laugh to death or have a heart attack from your greatest fear." The Chef laughed hard, giving him her most winning smile, and he visibly gulped at her twisted grin.
"Mouse, he ain't sane. Trust me, I know." It was somewhat of a bluff. She wasn't entirely sure what Talia Murderpants meant by 'The Pit', or why it it didn't leave people 'whole', but she knew one thing. "He's from Gotham. No one in Gotham is sane." Mouse seemed stricken at her words.
"I just want things to go back to normal."
"When has this city ever been normal?"
"Before The Bat showed up, it was just thugs and goons and guns and drugs. Your occasional terf war. But we knew what we were getting into. The only risk was Blackgate, maybe a few deaths. Now it's freeze rays and Arkham. A guy can't go out at night, even with heat, without worrying they'll be the next contender in a psycho's schemes. Red Hood can fix this, make it like it was before The Bat!"
"Mouse, he won't." The Chef stood, her knees popping from sitting too long. She walked the few steps to him, looking down at his nervous face. "He's just as crazy as the rest of us. He's a Gothamnite, his plan is just as insane as the Rogues, and he's not going to win. Even if his plans go the way he wants, it won't last long. He might have a good few years of rule, before someone with a college science degree decides they want to be in charge and we'll be right back to where we are now. A newer era of Batman versus the rest of us. But at least we know what to expect from The Rogues. At least the actual Rogues are willing to let goons have the Goonion. At least Batman doesn't kill all of us. Hood was willing to kill me and my Brat. All he cares about is killing Joker and Batman. He doesn't care about this city. He doesn't care about you." Something in Mouse seemed to fold, and his strong front crumbled.
"I just wanted..."
"I know, Mouse." She didn't. She came to Gotham a couple of years after Batman rose to fame. A good six months before Joker's debut. All she knew of Gotham was the cat and mouse of Batman and The Rogues. Mouse sighed, head dropping.
"Can you at least not ditch my body in the Harbor? Couple of the street kids that run for me hang out there, don't want them to see me like that." The Chef blinked, taking a quick sip from her flask to mask the shocked noise she knew would escape her lips, buying time.
"I ain't killing you, Mouse. That ain't my style." Mouse's head jerked and he gazed wide eyed at her. "You can't be on Hood's payroll, but I can't let you run free. You put me, My Diner Boys, and Smokebomb in danger. Not to mention your actions led to exactly what you been preaching about happening. A war between Hood and the rest of us, goons dead trying to save me, because of you."
"I didn't kidnap you!" Mouse shouted, and The Chef backhanded him. Her knuckles split open, and throbbed in pain. Mouse pressed his hand to his reddening cheek, looking surprised.
"You ate my food while feeding him info!" She fisted the collar to his shirt, her cigarette burnt out, and pulled him close, nose to nose. "What are the rules, Mouse?" She hissed just loud enough over the wind.
"I-I-"
"What are they?!" She barked, spittle landing on his nose.
"Cause no trouble, b-bring no trouble, g-g-get no troub-ble."
"Exactly." She jerked him back, keeping hold of his shirt. "I'm handing you over to the Goonion. You're unaffiliated to any gang, officially, but you're still one of us. I've put in a word for leniency, but whatever they do in the meantime is on them." She finally released him, and his arms were grabbed by Tazer and Deker, to keep him from stumbling back. Marcus walked up to stand next to her, Damien still hanging back.
"W-what are they going to do to me?" Mouse looked stricken, afraid.
"You're going to be a fall guy I think, but afterwards you're mine. I've put word in that since it was your info that led to my little 'vacation', ultimately you're mine to deal with. I've pulled some strings to get you a P.O. who will work with me." It was Bruce who pulled the strings, she had to fight to get him to keep his end of the 'Don't ask questions, don't dig into it' bargain. "You'll be in Gotham county jail for a bit, but you know how to keep your head down, you can get out on good behavior." Mouse looked relieved and terrified in a strange way.
"For what it's worth, ...I'm sorry Mama Chef."
"Your words don't mean shit to me, Mouse, you got people hurt. Killed. You didn't pull the trigger, but you loaded the gun. Take some time to think about how what you hate about the city and what you did are the exact same thing." The Chef nodded to her Patrons, Deker and Tazer dragging Mouse away. Before they got too far, she added. "I want you to think about every body buried, everyone who the state cremated, and everyone who was tossed in the harbour."
She just made out the tear that fell down Mouse's cheek, but he was pushed into the backseat of the car.
"Still think you should've let me ice him." Marcus huffed, offering The Chef a fresh cigarette and lighter.
"Like I said, not my style. Besides," she pulled a drag from the smoke, lighting the menthol. "Your arm doesn't have enough space for a new daisy."
"They're carnations." Marcus rolled his eyes.
"Sure, Shakespeare, carnations." She flitted her gaze to Damien. "Alright Brat. What did you learn?"
"That you are surprisingly merciful." Alexandera took the turn to roll her own eyes. "And that you misunderstood The Bard."
"No, Brat." Damien had an overly innocent expression on his face. "That some people are just stupid. They don't think things through and end up doing exactly what they never wanted to."
"Are you speaking from experience?" He gave her a smug grin.
"I oughta smack the sass out of you, but I'm so proud you're joking like a real boy." Alexandera smiled briefly before her face fell, sighed. "No. Some people just need an outside perspective to prove their dumbassery."
"As I said, Uhkti, merciful." Damien ducked, missing the soft blow he would have received to the back of his head. "By all rights, his life was forfeit, and he was ready to accept his death. It was almost admirable."
"We all die someday, Brat, but he ain't gonna die by my hands just because he got swept up in pretty promises."
"We learned something, too, Boss." Marcus stared down the alley way, brow pinched. "Hood's pretty words are hella convincing."
"Yes, he spoke with the ferver of a... Cult." Damien seemed uncomfortable.
"Everyone's got something that keeps them going." The Chef pulled another drag from the smoke, tapping away the ash. "I'm not worried about Hood coming for me, we've established I can handle him... I'm only worried how far he's willing to go. Only thing more scary then a psycho, is a psycho who believes in his own words."
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The diner was slow after Two-Face's goons left, Deker and Tazer had returned an hour before closing, relaying the message that Mouse was apprehended and being processed, with only a broken arm. Tazer locked his gaze towards the kitchen window where Damien stood at the grill, his good arm holding a pair of tongs.
"Any chance he's one of Mouse's?" He asked, grabbing his favorite ottoman and sitting heavily, the springs groaning.
"No, he's mine." The Chef defended immediately, but a thought struck her. Absently, she held her flask out, Tazer grabbing it in a reverant gesture. "Stay, you gave me an idea." She dodged a Two-Face goon who nodded respectfully, as she walked into her kitchen. Marcus eyed her as she gently grabbed Damien's shoulder and dragged him to her office.
"Yes, Uhkti?"
"How'd you adjust yourself to civillian life?" Alexandera asked, sitting in her creaking office chair, crossing her legs and resting her knees on the arm rests, resting her chin on interlocked fingers. The wounds on her knuckles throbbing, but keeping her train of thought rolling. Damien knelt before her, sitting on his knees with his good hand resting on his thigh.
"We are given training, to help blend in during missions."
"I don't care about the assassin shit, I'm asking how you did it? A mission is different from suddenly being enrolled in school." Damien hesitated.
"I ... I did not assimilate. I had no desire too. I saw the Academy as useless, so I only put in enough effort into my schoolwork to receive a good grade to appease Father."
"Something changed. You joined a club, a club where kids like you. Did you join because of Brice or did you join for yourself?"
"Pennyworth suggested it, I joined to humor him." Alexandera snorted a laugh.
"And?" Damien gave a quick quirk of his lip.
"I never changed myself, I saw no need to. My infiltration training was never put to use, yet my classmates warmed to me, as I am, as the animals did. They ..." The hand on his thigh fisted. "Are as close to friends I can have."
"I have an idea, a mission if you wanna call it that." Damien immediately sat straighter, face void of emotion but eyes alert, ready.
"Naeam, ahtki." Alexandera's brows rose, looking him down hard, but didn't ask or correct him.
"Mouse had kids who worked for him. Possibly orphans, some with families but who the fuck really knows. With Mouse gone, they'll scatter. I don't want Hood getting them, but sending an adult to snatch 'em won't make a good impression."
"You wish for me to establish contact." Damien confirmed.
"Yeah. Want you to explain what happened, and get them to come round. My diner can give 'em food and a warm spot to hang. Food carts can keep an eye on them, but I can't give them homes." Damien's eyes closed, and he hummed thoughtfully.
"What if ..." He cut himself off. Missions had clear outlines and directives, questioning was unheard of. Even Father's orders were to not be questioned. But his Uhkti merely grunted, waiting for him to continue, and his chest warmed. "Perhaps your men could offer their homes. They are loyal to you, as far as we know, and it would allow you to monitor any children who could be possible threats." The sound of a chair creaking had Damien opening his eyes, watching as his Uhkti leaned back, a hand to her mouth, biting the skin between her thumb and finger as she thought, until it slipped over her face and threaded through her hair, smoothing frays from her ponytail back.
"I'll ask around, see who'd be cool with it. But shit, Brat, that's a good idea." She gave a ghastly, blood curdling smile, and Damien felt that warmth in his chest burn in pride at her happy expression. "Marcus will be a good vet, he's a family man and all that."
"When do you want me to begin?"
"Sooner than later, Mouse has already been processed, so news will get out by morning. Deker and Tazer know his haunts, take them. Make sure the kids know it's you who's in charge, throw my name out if you need to." Damien nodded and swiftly stood, before bowing. Alexandera frowned at the gesture, and countered by gently gathering him into a hug. He hesitated briefly, before wrapping his good arm around her. "I know I told you that I want you to live for yourself, but this is so important. We can't let Hood get them, but if you don't want to do this, say the word, and I'll figure something else out." The Chef whispered out, and Damien grinned.
"I want to help." He heard her shuddering exhale of relief.
"I'll give you the real recipe for baklava when you get back to the manor." Damien stiffened, and pulled away quickly, his expression accusatory, and she grinned slyly.
"I knew it!"
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The Diner Boys were sitting in a booth, Marcus across from her, Gary to her right, Kyle to her corner. The doors were locked, but the blinds were half open, enough to block their faces, enough to show that it wasn't a good time to come in the back door. A large plate of fried pickle chips in the center of the table.
"So yeah, Marcus I want you make a list of people you'd trust with kids. Kyle, Gary, if you got any people you know, add them too."
"I'mma be real with you, Boss, I don't think I'd have enough for all of Mouse's kids " The Chef popped a fried pickle in her mouth, her face questioning. "Mouse has a good fifty kids in his network."
The Chef choked on the fried chewed mass.
Forgoing her flask, which had been filled with a mix of liquors when Tazer had it, a bastardized Long Island, she gulped down Kyle's water until she could cough freely.
"Fucking hell, I thought I'd be at most ten."
"Mouse was good to his network, and I'm turn he got more and more runners over the years. He started when he was ... Seventeen, I think."
"Damn, so this is way more important than I thought. He's established." The Chef leaned back and slumped. "This is bigger than I assumed."
"You know what they say 'bout assumin', Boss." Kyle lazily joked, and The Chef snorted a laugh.
"You and me, bud. Asses, all of us." Came her deprecating response, before she groaned. "I hate kids. And I don't have enough space in my apartment, I don't even trust my apartment now. Hood was living next door for Fucks sake." Kyle and Gary jolted, not having known, while Marcus frowned in anger.
"The place is empty now. Whatever you did at Sidonis Tower sent him running." Again, Kyle and Gary jolted.
"You faced him down?!"
"You knew he was livin' next to you!?" The Chef lazily waved them off.
"We had a little tiff, I shot him, gave him a warning. I'm hoping it's enough to stall him until I can get a plan to finish all this."
Kyle looked stricken, but Gary looked at her with new respect. He shifted in his seat, contemplating, before he reached for a fried pickle and spoke.
"Boss, I, uh, I can help..." The Chef turned her head to look at him.
"I'm open to any ideas." Gary had sweat on his unibrow.
"I've been lyin' to you." He haltingly started, Kyle looked betrayed, Marcus's hand went below the table, touching his piece.
"Mouse lie, or omission?" Was her only response, and Gary inhaled shakily, that she was willing to listen.
"Omission. Um ... Anyone remember... Before Falcone?" Kyle gave a non-committal shake of his head, Marcus shook his head, and The Chef didn't move. "there was another Family. Before Falcone took over."
"The Vecchio's. Falcone took 'em out and took over." Marcus supplied, remembering his first Boss's old lessons, when he was young. Gary nodded, his single brow dipping lower.
"Lorenzo Vecchio had a son..." The Chef was just listening, but Kyle and Marcus both froze in surprise.
"No fuckin' way." Marcus finally put both hands on the table.
"Gary?..." Kyle looked stricken.
Gary laughed.
"I didn't want to be... I was happy being unseen. Then Falcone... And then Joker. Joker did what I could never do, and I was fine just being... A goon." Alexandera put two and two together and sat straighter. "Joker and Falcone never touched the Family assets. Couldn't , or didn't want too. Mama has been taking care of it, but it's rightfully mine, so ..."
Marcus and The Chef both waited for the pudgy man to continue, Kyle was the first to break the tense silence.
"You're Giovanni?"
Gary nodded, and Kyle put a hand to his mouth.
"I'm Gary now, but I'm still... Gio. Boss," Gary, Gio, turned to fully face The Chef, his rotund stomach pressing her thigh. "I have a near empty mansion that could house Mouse's kids. Mama has been keeping it intact, and I have enough money to take care of them. I'm sorry for never telling you."
The Chef merely blinked.
"Don't fuckin' apologize. I don't really care about your past." Gary slumped in relief at her wide gaze. "I'm more surprised you're a mob kid."
"Boss, I'm older than you."
"I think that's the biggest surprise of the night ." And it was, Gary looked to be the youngest of the group, even if it was technically Marcus. "If we do this, we gotta do this legally."
"Why?" Kyle cocked his head. And The Chef ran down a list of why's and lies, before shrugging, pulling her flask out.
"I have a deal with Batman."
The entire table froze.
"What?" Marcus choked out. The Chef grabbed another fried pickle.
"I know who Batman is. We have a deal. I got goons under me, behaving, he leaves me alone."
The table was in quiet disbelief, before Gary whispered.
"The Kid."
It took everything The Chef had to not immediately attack him, and when she spoke, her voice was soft in tone, but hard in bite, her knuckles, under pink stained gauze, were tight on her flask.
"Damien is mine. Mine! If any of you go for him, hurt him, I will kill you." She hissed, and all the men nodded.
"You trust him? Even though he's ..." Kyle trailed off.
"Robin? Yeah. If you breathe even a syllable of a word about it, you're done. I've never killed before, but I'll get my first tattoo, and it'll be a fuckin' daisy."
No one moved.
No one breathed.
Marcus started laughing.
Gary chuckled after him.
Kyle leaned back with an exhausted look.
"You're probably the most dangerous person in Gotham, Boss."
Relief flooded The Chef's veins, and she sipped her flask.
"And don't forget it. But seriously," she turned back to Gio, Gary. "If I want him to stay off my back, and send a happy fuck you to him, we need this to be legit. Are you cool with turning your home into a legal orphanage?" Gary, nodded, wiping sweat from his face.
"You're my Boss, I'll do whatever you say."
"I'm asking. If you don't want to, then you don't have to."
"I know, Boss." Gary smiled. "But Mama always wanted more kids."
The Chef waited a few minutes, just in case he changed his mind. When. He merely smiled, waiting, she sighed.
"Thank you. Talk with your mom and The Brat, and get shit settled."
"You got it, Boss."
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Alfred held the Manor door open for her, and Alexandera grimaced.
"You know you ain't gotta do that, Al."
"I am the only person here with a key, Miss Fox." Alfred serenely smiled, and a delighted squeal bounced and echoed in the foyer, a tiny child came stumbling fast toward The Chef, before latching onto her leg. Alexandera looked down, confused, at Little Lexi. Her mostly gummy grin bright.
"Welcome back!" Noriko greeted, Gene holding her side as Tim bounced baby Levi in his arms. "You're home early!"
"...Yeah, the diner quieted down early, so we closed up." She glanced back down to the toddler firmly attached to her leg, before sighing and began a heavy shuffle inside, Lexi squealing at the thrilling ride. "Is Damien back yet?" Tim shook his head, eyeing her as Levi gnawed on his shirt sleeve.
"He said he'd be late in the family group chat." He eyed her suspiciously, but she raised a hand placatingly.
"Sent him to do some real good, don't worry. He's orphan snatching." Gene and Noriko looked confused, but Tim cackled.
"Sounds like Dad!" The Chef scowled, her hand snaking out cobra quick and popping the crown of his head with a quick but light smack.
"They won't be running around in Lite Brite tiddie widdies." Tim groused under his breathe, rubbing his hair, as The Chef turned to Alfred. "You start dinner?"
"I have pork loin defrosted, but have yet to start dinner." The Chef nodded, swinging the leg with a toddler to the side, making her way to the kitchen, Lexi giggling happily at the ride.
"I'm commandeering the kitchen tonight. White gravy apple pork loin. Dutch oven is under the knife block, right?" The group followed behind her, as Alfred pulled forward to walk with her, smiling down at the child on her leg.
"We'll need to make something for Damien." Alfred absently commented as he stood down briefly to mess with Lexi's hair.
"Uuuuhh, why? I thought he liked apples?" Alexandera's face pinched, she definitely remembered him eating apples for breakfast. Gene piped up behind her.
"He's vegetarian."
Alexandera stopped short, before turning to look at Gene.
"...No he's not." Tim scoffed, switching Levi to his other arm.
"Yeah, he is. He's big about it."
The world seemed to shrink, and Alexandera heard ringing in her ears.
"No ... No he's not, he's helped me with food. He cooks meat! He ..." The Chef thought back to all the moments she could remember, forming burger patties, breading chicken to fry, his grimace as he cleaned bird cavities.
"Master Damien has been vegetarian for many years, he's an advocate for animals. While he sees no problem with handling meat that has already been processed, he does not eat meat." Alfred cocked a brow. "You've truly never known?"
The Chef blanched in horror, a hand coming to her mouth.
"I'm a horrible person." Gene laughed, clapping her back.
"Sooo... Want me to make tofu?" Noriko smiled eagerly at her husband's suggestion.
"That sounds good sweetie! Mister Alfred, you have soy beans, right?"
"I keep some on hand for Master Damien." The group passed The Chef, Lexi leaving her leg to follow her parents, and Alexandera smacked her cheeks, grounding herself harshly.
"I'm a terrible fucking person." The Chef briskly walked towards the kitchen, rethinking many moments and cursing herself for never noticing.