Saving Grace: a Batman fanfiction

Chapter 3

    Usually, Bruce was unwelcome to people knocking on the door of his home anytime before eleven o’clock-- hey, he needed the sleep. But he was particularly irked this time because he knew it was Katherine and the foster child. 

    “Seriously, Kate?” he said, one hand up to shield his eyes from the sun as he stumbled to open his front door in just sweatpants and an open robe. “It’s a bit early, don’t you think?”

    “Early bird catches the worm,” said the familiar clipped voice cheerily, and Bruce moved his hand to look at the woman.

    “Not if the early bird is up at seven o’clock and all the worms are asleep underground,” he scowled. 

    Kate just laughed.

    “The kid’s in my car,” she said. “I just wanted to go over some last-minute details. You’ll be making some public appearances with the kid… I’ll let you know the details on those later. Most importantly, I hope you don’t already have a date to your Charity Ball, and if you do, cancel on them. You’re taking the kid. The press will melt, it’ll be sickeningly cute.”
    “What?” Half of Kate’s words went in one of Bruce’s ears and out the other. “It’s too early for me to be talking to you.”

    “I have a meeting,” she said impatiently. “I’ll call later to check in.”

    And then Bruce watched blearily from his front porch as the door to Kate’s car opened and two slender legs in white heeled sandals poked out of her car. Bruce watched with a sinking, dead feeling in his stomach as a girl (a girl!?!?) slid out of the car and slammed the door-- hard. Then she raised her eyes to meet his and glowered at him. 

Oh good God, what in the world was he getting himself into? 

The girl turned, never breaking eye contact, and disappeared to the back of the car where she was 

presumably getting her bags. 

    She was tall and tan (latina, maybe?) with slender legs and long dark brown hair with copper highlights. But the first thing he noticed about her were her huge eyes. She was wearing a white shirt with 

a baby pink trim and a baby pink heart in the middle of her chest, and a matching pink miniskirt. (So much pink. Bruce wanted to scream. He didn’t sign up for this.)

    When she reappeared from the back of the car she had a battered pink suitcase in each hand and was still glaring at him.

    She marched stiffly besides Kate until they reached the front door and then stood stiffly, averting her glare to the orange hydrangeas Alfred planted a few weeks ago.

    “Bruce, this is Grace, Grace, this is Bruce, your new foster parent.” Kate looked all too pleased, like this was actually what she’d had in mind; and if that was the case, couldn’t she have at least told Bruce it was a girl??

    “Put on a shirt, Bruce,” snaps the young girl-- he’d guess she was sixteen, mabe seventeen. He just stared, confused and horrified, self-consciously tying his robe around his waist. There were so many words he wanted to say but she left him speechless. Speechless in horror. 

    “Hello, Miss Grace, might I lead you to your room?” Alfred appeared, Bruce’s savior, and Grace swung her withering glare to him instead.

    “Whatever.” 

    Kate stepped forward as Grace followed Alfred into the house and eyed Bruce.

    “This is going to be the best thing that ever happened to your reputation, Bruce,” she said confidently.

    “You didn’t tell me it was a girl!” Bruce spluttered indignantly.   

    “You never asked,” retorted Kate, icy eyes narrowed in determination. “And the public likes girls better, Bruce, I’m sorry to say. It’s sexist, sure, but whatever they’ll eat I’ll feed them. That’s my job. Bruce Wayne Taking in a Hardened Street Kid-- It was good headlines but not particularly endearing. Bruce Wayne Taking Pity on Sweet Orphan Girl-- that’s another thing entirely.”

    “Sweet?” Bruce hissed unbelievingly. “Yeah, good luck trying to sell that one.”
    Kate just smirked, shrugged, and turned to go. “Wait-- wait-- you’re leaving?” Bruce said desperately. “You can’t!”

    “Sorry, Bruce,” said Kate, not sounding apologetic at all. “Duty calls.”

    Bruce watched her go, then ran a hand over his face.

    He did not sign up for this.

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