I do not own Leslie Thomkins, Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne, or J'ohn J'ones/Martian Manhunter. DC does. Please enjoy for free.

Manager's Office of Most Profitable Dancing Girl Club in Gotham's South Side: Present Day

"But it wasn't my fault!"

Russo, the overseer of every club in the Red light district for the South Side Cartel, shrugged behind his desk. "Thing is Sam, we don't need ya. You were great at recruiting and keeping gals in line, but now with the Bat …"

"Bat only shows up at night. Put me on recruitment in the daylight hours!"

"I can do that … but watch your tone. You've lost me four girls …"

"I gave up two of them to catch the Bat!"

"And you were compensated. Acetta told me you blew that compensation at one of his places."

Samson's face went from red to pink as he paled at that and bowed his head. "I … was cheated."

Russo shrugged. "Not my problem … but the Bat is still bothering us, so I wouldn't bring up your 'sacrifices' to get em to me."

"That 'wasn't me!'"

"Bottom line now is, less money is flowing through me, cause four of your girls are gone … With others up and going thanks to the Bat, our whole branch of the operation is feeling the pinch. Things are changing. We gotta consolidate. So, you better think of how to make yourself useful in the new world we live in."

"What if I get the other three back?"

Russo's eyes narrowed. "They're living with Dr. Thompkins … You may not be a local boy, but I thought you knew. We don't bother members of the old Families. 'Thomkpins' are off limits. That out-of-town assassin was 'way' out of line nabbing her, and, as you might have noticed, it didn't help him nail the Bat either."

Samson shrugged. "The Doc's not always there … I can at least get Alice back. She'll listen to me."

Russo shrugged back. "If you can do that without alerting or harming a bit of Dr. Thompkins person and property … alright. Otherwise … forget it. And don't forget the Bat seems fond of those girls and the Doc."

Samson's eyes widened a moment. Then, they narrowed and sharpened. "What if I actually manage to kill the Bat? Would that make me 'useful?'"

Russo laughed before looking up to meet Samson's gaze. "Well then Sammy, you'd be our hero."

Samson gave a smug grin.

Leslie Thomkins Home: Eleven Years After the Death of the Waynes Early hours of an Autumn Morning

Leslie sat in her kitchen sipping calming tea in her comfy pajamas and a modest dressing gown waiting to see Alice off. Alfred was taking her to her sister's mansion in the country to dust shelves and collectibles, polish the silver, and feed and groom the dogs miles away from the abusive man who'd shackled her mind with false words of love and falser insistence on her showing him gratitude for housing her and getting her a "job" in the Red Light district. Hopefully, if she wanted, and once she had skills and some time serving her sister to put onto a resume, she could work as a maid or something else somewhere else able to negotiate and stand up for herself. Even if she never left her sister's home, though, her new situation should be far better than the old. Alfred would both drive the girl there and give her some more lessons in advanced housekeeping once they arrived.

Most men, Leslie would wear more than a nightgown and dressing gown to see. However, she had raised her godchild with Alfred Pennyworth. Her childhood best friend's brother and his wife had left her and their butler shared custody of Bruce. She and the British manservant and ex-secret agent had had some thorny conversations about what was best for their godson over the years. They had known each other for closing in on thirty now. Even during their sharpest disputes, he'd been a gentleman. If he were anything less, she wouldn't let him give a fragile feminine mind coming out of an abusive relationship a car ride let alone housekeeping lessons.

She sipped her third cup of calming tea, eyes half shut. The doorbell rang. Her brow creased. Madge should've opened the door for Alfred before he rang. "Madge! Alice! Let him in!"

Leslie heard two sounds at once beyond her kitchen door. One, was the opening of her front door. The other was Madge's angry hiss. "No!"

No? Why would Madge say "no?" She thought Alfred had gained her full trust weeks ago?

Leslie walked into the living room. The visage of a man about her and Alfred's age in a trench coat and hat with a rather long sad face stood in her doorway. It was not Alfred.

Juniper, the St. Bernard her sister loaned her for protection, marched up to Alice's side and growled at the stranger. The man glanced down at him. Then the St. Bernard's lips fell back over his teeth. The growl ceased. The dog stared at him another moment, turned, walked away and flopped down on the rug with every indication he was taking a nap.

Leslie stared at the dog a moment. Then she looked back up into the staring, waiting eyes of the man in her doorway. Her voice came out weaker and softer than she wanted. "John …"

Madge's gaze swiveled. Alice was keeping hers on Leslie. Alice's body was stiff with fear waiting for an indication she was about to be praised or punished. John finally spoke himself. "May I come in, Dr. Thompkins?"

Leslie opened her mouth, closed it, and blinked. Then she sighed and gave a head jerk nod. "Kitchen." She looked at the young women. "Don't open the door this time unless it's Alfred."

Madge spoke up her own wary eyes following John as he indeed strode toward the kitchen door. "Should I tell Teach, 'John' is alone with you in the kitchen when he arrives?"

Leslie blew out a breath before nodding. "Yes."

John froze at that right in front of Leslie who walked past him and opened the kitchen door. He passed her to go in and she followed slamming it behind her. She walked past him again, then turned on him, still holding her tea cup, and let out a breath. John turned back to her once he stood beside her table and said, "Thank you for letting me in."

"Where have you been?"

"Many places since I left Gotham."

"So, you did leave the city?"

"Yes."

"You. Left. My. Godson. In. A. Freezer."

"He took us both into the freezer to protect us from the fire."

"The firemen found him alone!"

"Yes, they did. I … did not leave until I saw they had discovered him, though."

"Are you, were you, running from the law?! Was that it?! You left Alfred, Lucius, and I with a child suffering from hypothermia and abandonment issues! He was in the hospital for days! He was worried for you! We hired detectives!"

"I'm sorry …"

"You could have made a phone call! You could have sent a letter! To any of us!"

"I know."

Leslie blew out another breath. She ran a hand over her messy hair. "Why have you come back?"

"To apologize. To all of you, but especially him."

"Are you dying?"

John paused before answering. "I had a close call, but I am not sick. I am old though …"

Leslie let out another long breath. "Why did you come here first?"

"I read in the Gotham Gazette, Bruce left the city years ago, and there has been no mention of his return. I assumed if someone knew where he was and might point me in the right direction ... or at least relay my apology to him, it would be you."

"Will you panic and run again if I contact him for a face to face meeting?"

"I would like a face to face meeting with him if that is possible."

"You didn't say, 'no' to my question."

"I cannot guarantee I will be able to make whatever meeting he agrees to. It depends on certain things."

Leslie shut her eyes and ran her hand through her hair again. Then the kitchen door flew open. Alfred strode in his mustache bristling and eyes narrowed. His spoke with his clipped British accent as he swept his gaze up and down the other man. "John."

John nodded to the other man more slowly and calmly. "Mr. Pennyworth."

"So, you are back."

Gotham South Side Free Clinic After Working Hours on a Hot and Dry Summer Evening: Two Years After the Death of the Waynes

"No."

"Alfred …"

"He could be dangerous Master Bruce."

"You can protect me from him, but who's going to protect him from everyone else?"

"That is not our concern."

"You wouldn't have dared say that to Dad or Mom!"

Alfred raised both brows and Bruce's own face went drawn and pale. He even stepped back looking down. "I'm sorry Alfred … I just …"

"My main concern is 'you' Master Bruce. They left me partial custody of you along with your Aunt Leslie."

"I know … and I just …" Bruce rubbed his nose with his sleeve. "She brings me here where Dad used to help people, but most of the time, I just watch. I don't help anybody." Bruce looked up at Alfred fixing him with his watery eyes. "Today, I helped someone Alfred, but what will that matter if we just send him out to die somewhere else tomorrow, or the next day, or even next year? The streets of Gotham are dangerous. You and Aunt Leslie always say so to me."

"Master Bruce …"

"If I shouldn't be on them after all the training you gave me, why should we let him go back to them without it?"

Alfred shut his eyes and pressed his lips closed to keep in all the curse words he wished to say inside his head.

Leslie Thompkins Home: Eleven Years After the Death of the Waynes Early hours of an Autumn Morning

J'ohn met the British Ex-Secret Agent's scowl with more courage than he felt. The British butler's voice was no more friendly than his stare. "So, you are back."

"For now."

Alfred harrumphed. "Of course."

Leslie jumped in. "He wants to see Bruce."

Alfred's gaze did not even leave John as she spoke. His mustache just bristled further. John tried himself. "I wish to apologize to him."

"Do you think words will be enough? You broke that boy's heart!"

"I know …"

"Do you?"

"I can imagine. And I'm here to attempt to put things as right as I can."

"Do you need money?"

"Almost everyone in this world needs money, but that is not what I'm after."

John put the hat he'd removed while stepping into the house back on. Then he fished something out of his pocket. "Here is a card with the number of the hotel room I'm staying in written on it. Call if Bruce wants to meet, I can come up to the manor, we can meet in my hotel room, or we can even meet elsewhere. Just give him the information, and let him make up his own mind, please. I'd truly like to see him again and apologize." He set the card down on the table and stepped backwards gesturing behind him. "I'll just leave the back way."

He did. Alfred blew out what Leslie assumed was quite a hot breath through his nose after the man disappeared. She let out a sigh. "Alfred. Bruce is an adult now …"

The British man turned on her. "That man ripped Master Bruce's heart out when he was ten! He has no idea how to do anything but run from his problems. Bruce was more of a man at ten than he was at forty!"

"Perhaps. But at least Bruce might be able to put this behind him now …"

"Either of us can just 'tell' him the man showed up here hale and hearty."

"And if that's all he needs, it will be enough, but we need to let Bruce decide."

"I must say 'Doctor' Thompkins. I find it quite ironic you've lectured me about protecting him and convincing him to make healthy decisions for himself all these years, only to encourage him to spend one more second with that man!"

"I'm only saying we let him decide."

Alfred strode out of the kitchen. Leslie opened her kitchen door to call after him. "Don't drive angry!"

Alice shrunk away as Alfred came to the front door they were both supposed to depart through. Alfred stopped, heaved a sigh, and Leslie swore she saw him shake the stiffness in his posture away in a split-second, then turn and give the most charming smile she could only see in profile to the girl. "Are you ready Miss. Alice? We should be off."

Immediately, Alice smiled back. Her form relaxed as well as she nodded, grabbed a bag off the floor, and offered him her arm, which he took. Madge raised her eyebrows as well. When the two had closed the door behind him, Madge spun to stare at Leslie. The older woman looked at her cup. "I need more tea …"

Alleyways Behind Leslie Thompkins' House: Eleven Years After the Death of the Waynes

Samson Roberts peering around the corner of a building across and down the street from the backdoor of Dr. Thompkin's house. He stared at it contemplating if he could sneak in or even just look in a window to get Alice's attention. He started as a older looking man in hat and trench coat came out of it. He drew his rotund body back around the wall and waited for the footsteps to fade away before peeking around to continue his vigil and contemplation.

He could talk his best girl into coming back. She'd forgive him for selling her for an ungodly amount of money, more than he got to keep for keeping the girls coming and housed in half a year all in one night. Especially when he told her he'd blown it and was more broke than ever. Her bottom lip would pop out in the baby way, her eyes would water, and she'd tell him not to worry. Man, they had a lot of nerve keeping his best girl from him not that he trusted her with everything. She was changeable, but her sympathy could be aroused, and she could be easily scared, and he could always remind her she owed him …

A deep voice suddenly filled his right ear. "Don't even think about it."

Samson spun to look straight into two burning red eyes right before blacking out.

What do you think now?

God bless

ScribeofHeroes