Never Fear

55

"Careful! It's priceless you know? Priceless as in: you break it, you've not bought it, you've destroyed it." Willow huffed and crossed her arms as two people manhandled items from the collection. "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap." She pouted when she got glared at. "I've not been sleeping well." She explained although the people helping set up the exhibition didn't look like they really cared. Willow was more talking to herself than to them. In fact, she half thought she'd get a better conversation from a brick wall. Even Hannibal held better conversations than these people.

Admittedly, the exhibition was a week late. Craig's fault entirely. He happened to think it was a sabotage revenge to instruct people to misplace items. It took everyone a whole week to get everything back and catalogued. Willow really was starting to dislike him. "Reformed," she slapped her cheeks. She was stopping her mind from wandering. She'd have no qualms in wanting to deal damage to Craig, he was annoying, and deserved it in her eyes. The fact of the matter was a part of her wanted to. Yet she kept pinching herself to keep her mind on track.

Standing in the last room to get sorted out she checked over the list and nodded slowly. Everything was on track and nearly finished, which she was a little thankful for. Willow was happy with having this job, honestly she was, but she had been out of swing with working a proper job. Blowing up buildings, terrifying people and making bombs, was not a proper job.

"Miss Butler?" A voice called from behind her. Turning around Willow gazed at a young girl who was doing this exhibition as her work experience. "This just came for you."

"What?"

"A letter." The girl waved the envelope at her.

"Seriously?"

"Miss are you going to take it or not?" The girl asked bluntly.

"Fine!" Willow took the envelope from her hands and turned it over. The girl looked at her expectedly. Willow frowned, she was not opening this in front of her. She wouldn't understand it, nor would anyone else really. Admittedly, Willow hadn't opened any of the other four letters she'd received. She couldn't.

The advice from Fletcher was to continue as normal. Which was a little unhelpful. All Willow told him, when they met up, was that a part of her memory was missing and she thought she'd dreamt an old friend up. It killed her a little bit to class Thomas Elliot as a friend, sure, the man saved her life. But it was clear he hated her. From dreaming Thomas up, she told Fletcher that he'd told her an old friend was still alive. Willow didn't name names, it was better this way. Fletcher seemed to just nod and tell her that she'll be fine and that it was normal for memory loss to happen from what she went through. Useless. He was useless.

----

The day and opening night of the exhibition was good. Great even, Sue and Kevin popped down to see their daughter's organisational skills at hand. They enjoyed the exhibition the best they could with what artefacts and paintings which were around. Kevin joked about some pieces which caused some higher up Gotham citizens to look down their noses at him. This caused him to cough awkwardly and shuffle off muttering to himself. It was quite funny, Willow had to admit.

"Willow," turning around and seeing Bruce, she smiled. "You did an excellent job here."

"It would have gone even more smoothly if a certain someone didn't try and move everything around."

"Ah," Bruce nodded slowly. "Craig. Yes, you two never clicked did you?"

"Hey, I did steal his job."

"Only for these past few weeks." Bruce paused. "Technically."

Willow laughed lightly and nodded. "Only technically, and I think that was a few weeks too many for Craig. Noticed he's not here tonight?"