Detective-Verse. In stately Wayne Manor.

[detectivebats.livejournal.com]

It was late afternoon, the sun was a deep golden yellow even though the hour was still early, as late fall was wont to do. The shadows were long in the quiet manor, silence permeating every inch of the estate. No sounds of footsteps, no voices, nothing. The only sound was the thunk of the refridgerator opening as a heavy hand reached out to grab a carton of milk. Bruce glanced around, even though he knew Alfred was not around, and drank right out of the carton. Something he couldn't do when the gentleman was here. Feeling a bit juvinile, he stuffed the milk back into the 'fridge and on second though, reached in for some leftover apple pie. He had a couple hours to kill before dusk--a few rare hours--and wanted to keep up his strength, work on a few leads down in the cave on the computer, and add a few new toys to the 'mobile. He was still musing on his odd visit to that 'universe', and was thus a bit absentminded at the moment.

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Bree glanced around puzzledly, wondering how she'd come to be standing on the front doorstep of the big house when the last thing she could remember was getting on the bus to go with her form to the museum in Nice. Icey blue eyes swept over the grounds from under black hair pulled into neat pigtails, then turned to the door as the six-year-old stood on her toes and let herself in. She was unaware of the silent alarm she'd let off.

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The seemingly innocuous gunmetal gray watch on his wrist began buzzing, and immediately the half-eaten apple pie was placed on the counter, Bruce was on edge. It couldn't have been Alfred, he wouldn't have tripped the alarm, would he?

He hit one of the cabinets with his fist and behind the canned food there was a secret door, where some spare batarangs were kept. He stuffed them in his khaki pants pocket, and untucked his blue polo shirt and pulled it over, just in case . Bruce slinked around the corner and out of the kitchen, catching a glimpse of the main hall. He could have easily made a run for the cave and come back as Batman, but really, that would take way too much explaining.

His blue eyes opened wide when he saw the pigtails. It was a little girl. He breathed a sigh of relief, but still snuck up behind her. There was not even the sound of breathing before the voice behind her said sternly.

"You ought to knock before you enter."

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Those icey eyes turn up to him indignantly. "What are you doing in my house?" Her accent held a trace of France.

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She tossed her head and kept going, to disapear into the hall.

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Bruce watched her with slight interest, wondering vaguely what she would do now, or even if she would simply...disappear suddenly.

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There was the far off sound of a door opening and closing upstairs, then a silence that dragged on.

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Her forhead furrowed slightly. "I never knew them. However, I loved Sister Agnes before she died."

To anyone else the way she said it might seem cold and distant, but to Bruce the signs of emotion are probably very apparent.

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He nodded slowly, indeed understanding. It was sad, however, that at least he had several years of knowing and loving his parents, however little Bree had none. Of course he wasn't going to hug her or anything, he didn't even know that was the proper thing to do, or if it even was.

"So I guess we ought to make the best of this...situation then." Optimism wasn't his strong point, though. He glanced at the window, seeing how the sun was very slowly waning. What would Alfred do? "Oh. Are you hungry or anything?"

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She looked at her wristwatch and nodded. "Oui, it is time to eat." Then she frowned. "The sisters will be... be...." Her face screwed up as she searched for the word.

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"Milk, thank you." She still looked at him curiously for a moment before she looked around and then walked over to set her plate on the table in the breakfast nook. This done, she scrambled hopped onto the seat and settled herself comfortably before bowing her head expectantly.

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He rummaged around some more in the fridge, and picked out the carton of milk that he drank out of not too long ago. Bruce eyed it suspciously, then shrugged, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and pouring it for the little girl.

"Hey Bree, uh...you know I have to go to work really soon," he glanced at the window as the sunlight was going slowly from golden to red. He loved this time of day, this was where he could finally get to his real work.

Bruce was then struck with a sudden memory of what happened when he left young Dick alone in the house. Chocolate stains everywhere, even up on the walls where the acrobat had managed to climb or throw himself into. Broken chandeliers as he had tried to leap from the stairs or balconies. A huge mess of sweets in the kitchen. A horrible blender incident. Bruce visibly shuddered. He was a bit torn, not wanting to leave the girl here by herself but as Alfred was not in, what was the alternative? Tim wasn't here right now either, and he would not put off the protection of his city for some random little girl that literally showed up on his doorstep.

What else could he do?

He sighed, digging his hands through his dark hair like that would take the problems away. He couldn't believe he was about to do this.

"Bree, when you're done eating, I've something to show you. What do you think about Bats?"

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"I like bats. They eat insects," she said, looking up at him calmly.

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She nods gravely, accepting the decree without question. "My fencing is not good yet. But I work at it whenever the sisters let me."

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Batman rolled his eyes inwardly. She had absolutely no qualms about this, like it was normal. Maybe she just didn't know any better. Or even worse, maybe she knew too well.

"Maybe I'll...teach you sometime. Wait here for a few minutes, I'll fix up the...costume." He grimaced a bit when he said that last bit, and he was still trying to work on changing his tone talking to her. It sounded like a gruff monster's voice, but he really couldn't help it. Once the cowl was on, he really was a different person. Or perhaps, more himself. He turned around and went towards the back.

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"Yes, sir," she said obediently, then tilted her head back to look at the whispering upper recesses of the cave. "He's like the Count of Monte Christo," she told God in French. "Like the heroes from the books. Thank You for answering my prayers. I will do my best to right wrongs and protect the people."

Solomnly she crossed herself, then settled down to sit cross-legged on the cold floor and listen to the sounds of the Cave.

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She glanced up in silence, then returned her attention to the straps, making a little sound of triumph as she suddenly snapped all the buckles into the right places. This done, she glanced up again and studied what a small child in a big vehicle could see, still not speaking.

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It wasn't too long before he started his normal route when he sensed trouble. A pack of well-kept street racing cars, a nightclub, a small crowd gathering around the door. It could be something totally normal, but he had a feeling it wasn't. He parked the car in the alley next to the nightclub, and his hunch proved right when suddenly a gunshot rang out in the night. Someone was fighting over something.

"Stay here. Under any circumstances, do NOT get out. The car will take care of you. Press this button here if it gets dangerous, it'll take you home." His gloved finger tapped on a nondescript red button on the dash. He opened the door, and without a further word his cape swished off into the night as he rounded the corner of the brick building and dissapeared from sight. The door closed on its own.

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"I am sorry. That is just stupid."

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Batman was totally taken aback and he just stared at her for a moment, not saying anything. Did she just say what he thought she had said?

"Out of the car. NOW."

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She didn't even hear him. She'd cleared her mind so completly that only a touch or a shake would gain her attention now. It was something she'd learned to do in order to survive the boredom of certain classes in which she'd read the book and learn the lesson and then have nothing to do but bring down the sister's wrath by figiting and taking things apart.

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Batman slammed on the brakes instantly, tires screaming, sending them both forwards, pulling on their harnesses so much that their seats creaked in protest, feeling like they would rip out of the car itself. Things that weren't nailed down went flying into the dashboard. He knew what she was trying to do.

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She bit her lip till she tasted blood, but the tears still came. She hated them and fought them, but she was only little and they came.

She buried her face against his chest and wept.

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Huh. It did get worse.

Batman stared down at the tiny figure crying her eyes out on him. He sighed, his shoulders sinking down as he felt rather defeated. What else could he do? He had to do something. He wouldn't hear the end of it from Alfred, for one thing. Finally, something in his icy heart cracked, just a little. His hand hesitated, then he placed the heavy thing on her little shoulder.

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The rest of the night was relatively uneventful for a night of patrol, when he returned to the car the final time Bree was limp in her seatbelt, her breathing deep and even as she grasped one corner of her cape tightly.

[detectivebats.livejournal.com]

The 'mobile pulled into the cave, it had been a very uneventful night and other than a lucky punch to the jaw, Bruce was relatively unscathed. He glanced over at the little form in the seat next to him. The doors opened.

"Bree? We're home." The voice was just a little less icy than usual.