The Wendigo and The Lionheart (A Gotham TV: Bruce/Selina fan fiction)

Homecoming Part 1

Alfred

The cold did strange things to the city.

Earlier that evening when he had left to fetch the young master from the police station, if he hadn't been such a confident man he may have worried that he'd driven in the wrong direction. For a City that boasted a populace well into the multi-millions, Gotham appeared utterly desolate.

Snow plows and street sweepers were parked idly on every street, but there were no cars, no people. Silence had settled over the city.

If Gotham had been quiet, Bruce had been quieter. He didn't talk during the long drive back to Wayne Manor, or the dinner Alfred had made him.

"Starving yourself won't bring her back," he'd reminded the boy, but Alfred had only received a glare in return.

He wasn't exactly sure what kind of pull the young Miss Kyle had over Master Bruce but he knew it went deep, deeper than mere hormones and a pretty face called for. And if he was a betting man, he'd bet that pull wasn't one sided.

He spotted her not a month after their first fight, the one that had ended in confessions, tears and a shattered snow globe. He'd been talking to the new gardener, asking about a certain tree that the master wanted planted when he'd caught movement in his peripheral. The unnatural disturbance had caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up as he'd watched a shadow glide away. There had been an unnerving intelligence to that silhouette, but when he'd went to investigate all that had been left among the hedges was a trail of small boot prints leading away from the manor.

Soon after, he'd hired a man he trusted, the top security specialist from Wayne Enterprises, to install the most state-of-the-art security system. But even with technology that would impress the most hardened Las Vegas pit boss, he barely caught sight of the little troublemaker.

Maybe it was something preternatural, but he knew it was her. Even analyzing the security footage he barely caught glimpses of her, and certainly nothing that would ever hold up in a criminal case. Unnatural agility let her work the angles and she was able to cling to the most minuscule shadows. It was like trying to catch smoke.

Smoke or not, it didn't take Alfred long to begin piecing together what she had been doing all those times, what her intentions really were. She was just like any good predator, she was watching and waiting.

One evening, not long after 'the Gala Incident,' he had sat alone in the monitor room watching the security tapes from the day as he always did. And sure enough, he watched as that familiar shadow climb into one of the many trees that lined the property.

Noting the time stamp, he kept his eyes trained on the small black mass as he fast forwarded. Watching the numbers tick by he couldn't help the furrowing of his brow.

"What in the world could entertain you for so long?" he asked no one in particular.

Switching monitors, he immediately saw what had caught her attention. Two fencers, their white uniforms contrasting brightly against the dark grey of the grass, danced backward and forward, neither able to really get a hit or retain the right of way.

He couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. Poor Master B, he had no clue what was waiting for him in that tree.

Slightly disappointed, he watched as his young master feinted and lost the right of way before he took a hit to the chest that left him on the ground.

Visibly frustrated, he quickly climbed to his feet, flinging his mask to the ground. Even through the monitor he could tell Bruce was breathing hard, his face most likely ten shades of red. Despite his temper, he politely took his instructors hand and Alfred couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at his well kept manners.