40Well, not really much to say...let me know your thoughts as to how this should progress...I love hearing possibilities, and I haven't quite made up my mind yet as to where this is going! Thanks for reading and enjoy!
Arwen
Alfred gazed at the woman across the room. She was not conventionally beautiful, but she was striking, with a bone structure that caught the light in interesting ways, almost like a European runway model save for the fact that she was too curvy to fit into most couture pieces. Her eyes were very green, almost like emeralds save for the sardonic flash in them, and her scarlet-rimmed smile, no doubt about it, was very…feline. Her golden hair was pulled back somehow, he couldn't really see it. Then she turned her head, just a little, and he saw that she had braided her tresses and then pinned the excess braid against the nape of her neck, tucking it back in on itself to allow for her mask.
Her mask. Alfred allowed his eyes to stray to it, just for a moment, there on the floor like a dead rat. Or cat. Her action was easy to understand psychologically, but it didn't really fit with the criminal dossier that Master Bruce had compiled on Catwoman. At his side, Lucius turned back to the microscope with the smallest of sighs, eschewing the drama unfolding before him. Perhaps he didn't know the enormity of Catwoman's—Selina's—action. Perhaps he didn't care. Alfred decided it was likely the latter.
It was easy now to allow the surging protective instincts within him to rise to the surface, now that he had a face to go with a real name, not some psychopathic criminal pseudonym. He felt his face settle into its oft-worn mask of indifference touched with a cold aloofness. "So, Miss Selina, after your grand finale, what exactly do you plan on doing to save Master Bruce's life?"
Selina blinked at the butler. Was he…angry? Didn't he realize what she had just sacrificed for the man he obviously cared very deeply about, didn't he realize what she had just lain on the altar of the mighty Bruce Wayne, playboy of Gotham? She felt her hackles rise. "Well," she began, but he didn't give her a chance to finish. He wasn't looking for an answer, not really.
"Because if you do anything more to jeopardize Master Bruce, if you cause him to so much as break a nail—"Alfred walked around the edge of the bed, eyes sharp as daggers, voice deadly smooth and calm—" I will personally hunt you down and make sure that all your nine lives are ended. Is that clear?"
Selina raised her eyebrows at the butler, who had managed to close the distance between them to mere inches. "Crystal."
"Good," said Alfred. He held her gaze for a moment longer to ensure that his message had been taken seriously. She stared back unblinkingly, not ruffled but obviously not making light of his words. He nodded briskly in satisfaction, tugged once at the bottom of his jacked to straighten out invisible wrinkles, and turned heel, striding smartly back to his post on the left side of the bed. Selina shook her head a little in wonder.
"You've got to tell me where you hired him so I can get one too," she said in a low voice to Bruce Wayne.
"Oh, I'm not for sale, Miss," Alfred replied. "But I am known to be rather fond of a good pinot noir."
"I'll keep that in mind," she said. It was odd, the way this man worked, alternately threatening and gently teasing her—strangely familiar, in a way. "You remind me of someone. Wait—I've got it! Alfie, you definitely remind me of my grandfather."
Alfred made a sound of disgust, his eyes twinkling. "Oh, dear, please." He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, brows arched as he continued, dry humor coloring his cultured voice. "I can assure you, I'm much older than that."
Lucius cleared his throat pointedly. Selina and Alfred immediately paid attention, the banter effectively ended. "It looks as though this inhibitor solution isn't able to be duplicated."
"What?" Alfred said sharply.
"It's a living organism. I can see whether I can culture it, but that's out of my area of expertise," replied Lucius darkly.
"Do you know how it works, at least?" Selina asked hopefully, glancing at Bruce Wayne. It would be a horrible way to die, never to wake up, to slip into it unknowingly.
"Well," said Lucius slowly, "from blood samples, I can see that the poison is a living organism as well."
"Of course it would be," muttered Selina. "It's Poison Ivy. She can't help herself."
"May I finish?" Lucius looked at her with raised eyebrows, pronouncing each word slowly and carefully as if she would misunderstand. "As I was saying, it is a living organism that attaches to red blood cells. Somehow—I can't see the exact mechanics of it on this microscope—the organism is a parasite. A leech of some kind."
"What does it do?" Selina put her hand over her mouth after the words popped out.
"From the symptoms, I'd say that the organism is using the oxygen on the red blood cell. The dizziness, loss of consciousness, even the seizures could point to a serious deficiency in the brain." Lucius held up a hand to stem their questions. "But that's the best case scenario."
"What's the worst case scenario?" Alfred asked, the lines in his face deepening at every word.
"Worst case…the parasite is just using the blood as a sort of taxi system to get the the major nerves."
"The major nerves?"
"The brain," Selina said grimly with a glance at Bruce Wayne. Lucius nodded.
"How long until we know for sure?"
"I'll have to take these back to the lab to analyze further. I need more equipment than you have here."
"Isn't this state of the art?" Selina heard herself ask almost desperately. "Wouldn't Bruce Wayne make sure he had every piece of the latest technology?"
After a moment, Alfred answered her. "Master Wayne never allowed himself to dwell on his mortality…on the Batman's mortality. He allowed himself to view the Batman as other people viewed him: indestructible, incorruptible." He paused. "God love him, Master Wayne prepares very little for worst case scenarios...and now he finds himself in one."
"He's got to have had close calls before," insisted Selina. There was a slight rattling in the backround as Lucius packed his samples for the lab in a cushioned case.
"Most of his adversaries prefer guns and knives," said Alfred. There seemed an especially acidic undercurrent to his voice as he answered her. "A man, however strong, cannot fight what he cannot see. Poison Ivy's plan was brilliant."
She hadn't mistaken it—there was a spark of deep anger and intense dislike smoldering in the depths of Alfred's smooth, steady visage as he gazed at her. To her surprise, she felt a blush color her face, heating her cheeks, reddening her skin all the way out to the tips of her ears. What did he expect her to say? She felt like she was on the edge of a diving board, anticipating the empty plummet before hitting the water. The thought of water elicited a shiver. Then she took a deep breath. "Look. Alfred." It was her turn to be firm. "I'm sorry I didn't act in time. I'm sorry I let Poison Ivy get as far as she did. But honestly, try to give me some credit." There was anger rimming her words now. "I brought him back here to you. I tried to save him and I'm not going to stop trying. I don't leave things half-done."
Alfred looked at her stonily. He turned deliberately to talk to Lucius, leaving Selina fuming. She was almost trembling with anger. Who would have known that a butler was so adroit at getting under her skin, so adept at sending her into the throes of defensive anger? Some small part of her mind whispered nastily that he was right after all, she was no hero, not a good guy. Batman was the only good guy in Gotham, and he was going to die. "No," she said, very quietly, just to herself. She let herself gaze at Bruce Wayne as she thought, hard, feeling her mind straining for an answer that seemed just out of her reach. Her lips tightened and her forehead furrowed.
"Are you all right?" Lucius asked her as he passed by on his way out of the medical room, pausing at her elbow.
"Oh, you know, just mentally constipated," she said brightly with a blinding smile. "Putting together my grand scheme takes some effort."
"Good luck," said Lucius doubtfully. "Alfred, I'll be in touch."
Alfred nodded and shook hands with Lucius, watching the other man leave with world-weary eyes. She watched a hint of the ramrod-straight demeanor drain from him as his shoulders slumped slightly.
"Alfred," she said quietly, "did you receive an invite to the gala for the opening of the Marcellus exhibit?"
"Of course Mr. Wayne received an invite. He's a substantial sponsor of the arts in Gotham."
"Because…I think I have a plan. But we have to wake him up."
Alfred blinked. "Miss, may I remind you that Mr. Fox cannot duplicate the inhibitor solution, and to use it all on a gamble is highly irresponsible, a risk I would not be willing to take on his behalf."
"You wouldn't be willing to take it, but would he?" Selina asked, looking down at Bruce Wayne's pale face.
"Sometimes Master Bruce is incapable of recognizing what is best for him," said Alfred with a decidedly brittle edge to his voice. He looked at Selina with his inscrutable grey eyes. "And that's where I come in."
Selina sighed. "Alfred, just listen. Poison Ivy will definitely be at that gala, as Dr. Pamela Isley or otherwise. It's the perfect opportunity for us to—"
"Miss, that is where you are mistaken." More brittleness, more anger. "There is no us. No we. There is only Master Wayne, and he is fighting for his life right now. I am here to make sure he wins."
Selina growled in frustration and snatched her mask up from the floor of the medical room. She held it at shoulder height. "Do you want Selina or Catwoman here, Alfred? Do you want my help or not?"
"Your help has already done Master Wayne enough damage," Alfred replied frostily. He checked the monitors, making sure the sensors were firmly attached to his patient's chest.
Selina looked at the mask, and pulled it on. She felt whole again. "Fine, Alfred. You wait here in the Cave and do nothing. Watch him die." Her green eyes flared like a burning hedge. "I'm going to go do something about this." Checking to make sure that she had her whip, ignoring the headache blossoming behind her ears, she turned.
"And what, pray tell, are you going to do, Miss?" Alfred sounded like the voice of reason, so utterly sure of himself. She wished for a brief moment that she ever felt that confident in herself.
"I'm going to find Ivy," she growled, "and end her little game."
Alfred and Catwoman stared at each other for a long moment. Then Alfred nodded curtly. "Good luck."
"I won't be long." She was almost to the door when he called out.
"I believe you lost an earring, miss."
Selina turned, paused for a moment. "I don't…wear…" Then she was striding quickly back to Alfred, snatching the tiny object from his palm. It must have fallen from her mask, when she pulled it off: a tiny green leaf, attached to a pin…Without realizing it, she was cursing and spitting like a cat doused with water. "It's a tracking device," she hissed.
"Destroy it!" urged Alfred immediately.
"No." She shook her head and closed her fist on the tracker. "Time to play a little of Ivy's game." Out of her belt she took a small black device. It looked like a miniature cell phone, about the size of her little finger. She unclipped the earpiece and plugged it into her left ear, handing the transmitter to Alfred. "You didn't think Batman was the only one with some technical toys, did you?" she grinned.
"Of course not, Miss," drawled Alfred dryly.
"Well, batten down the hatches. Put on your alarm systems. This place does have alarm systems, right?" Alfred nodded. "Let me know if she tries to get at him here. Since the car's…out of commission, any other rides around here?"
Five minutes later, a sleek black motorcycle rocketed down the tree-lined lane in front of Wayne Manor. Snug in a black helmet and jacket, Selina revved the throttle and pressed herself lower against the bike, racing toward the black silhouettes of Gotham City.