8 Heylel
The morning sun looms over Heylel as she felt the soft cushions of her new bed try to web her back in. Still, her natural clock, cultivated over years pushes her up and awake.
Instead of the wooden roof of her parent's home, the open sky of the street, the attic of the stripper club, and the concrete ceiling of the orphanage, she was greeted by a chandelier. An upgrade to be sure.
"Miss Mira, you are awake," The butler of the house, the one who'd been taking care of her when all the rest had to 'work' spoke to her.
"I am Alfred," She replied to the man. He smiled as he said, "New clothes for you in the cupboard, please freshen up."
"Will do."
She said as she sent him away. Getting out of bed she walked over to the washroom door, but her hands stopped at the knob. Alfred had prepared her some clothes, their quality was bound to be excellent—she felt a genuine desire seeding inside her. Admittedly a stupid one. She trotted over to the cupboard, and for the first time in her life, she had time to indulge in a desire. So why not? Click. The door opened. Her breath got caught in her throat.
From day-to-day to the ultra-stylish there was everything one could ask for. And it was, "Beautiful." No more hand-me-downs from strippers that smelt like shit, no more clothes picked up from donation bins.
She didn't need to worry about choosing between a bag of rice and toilet paper. Well, she had left behind that need ever since she ran away to the orphanage, something which she in all her wisdom had stubbornly avoided. In hindsight, it should have been her first option—her horrible perception of orphanages from her previous life had kept her from there, or maybe it was only because this one was 'essentially' Wayne-owned.
Regardless she was now a free girl, and as she fished out a black hooded jacket from inside the closet, she swore to never get to that level again.
———
"Master Bruce, it's hardly healthy to have so many dark circles," Alfred said as he passed over tea to Bruce who was as usual ignoring the mild migraine that was hammering his head.
"Yeah, I know," He smiled bitterly, "I will turn in after finishing this delicious tea you have made."
Alfred smiled, "As you should. Oh, the little miss is up."
"How is she?"
"Adjusting, intelligent, and obedient," His words were straightforward, with not much deviation from his assessment, "Issues?"
"Some—might be bipolar."
His brows raised at the words, "How?"
"I managed to get bits and pieces of information about her life on the streets. She was quite the character," He said as he recalled the testimonies, he would have gotten photos if he could.
At his words, Bruce's eyes narrowed, "Any lies?"
"No sir, she was being truthful. Surprisingly," He said as he stirred the cup before presenting the tea to him.
"So, what kind of character?"
"A survival-dedicated one, she did what she could to survive—she could be very valuable in one moment then ice cold the next—before joining the orphanage."
Deep breath, he relaxed, "The streets are a tough place. Things happen. She came clean to us, she wants a home," He disregarded that possibility, it was more likely than not acting. Talents to be the next Batgirl? Maybe."
"I believe so, she bonded with master Damian rather quickly too."
A look of surprise coloured his face, "Damian?" Then a slight smile, he had grown too, "Good."
———
The smell of gunpowder flickered and gained off her hands as Hill let loose another few shots into the dummy down the range.
"Yikes, that dummy's dead," Madison said as he shook off his noise-cancelling headset and called out to her.
"Very funny Madison," She scoffed as she pulled off her own set, "So what's up?"
"Nothing really, just haunting," He replied as he picked off a gun from the rack, an AR-15, his hands gripping it with familiarity.
"Better train with something you are gonna use."
"We do," He said as he pulled over to his side of the range, but before he could a hand held his shoulder, "No. Train with your pistol, that thing is only for special occasions,"
He shrugged her off, she was a new one here, transferred and promoted from halfway around the country. She didn't know how things worked here. She would though, soon enough, "Madam, special occasions? This city is built on them. We hold these guns in the back of every JLVT."
"Seriously?" She looked him over, the man was young and joined the GCPD straight out of the academy, he had plain black hair and brown eyes, surviving the worst of Gotham. Participating in the blood-letting wars and coming out with multiple kills. Dressed in his uniform he looked ready for action anytime, by all accounts a very sturdy man. Yet all of this information came from her files on him—nothing she gleamed off of him in their time together.
"Commissioner's perms, we only get them out when we are in trouble but other than that, yeah."
———
"We are going to be sending you to school," Bruce announced to the little lady who trodded along the halls of the mansion exploring it, as he scooped her up, fully surprising her leading to a small yelp and a tight grasp on the coat.
Barely managing to orient herself she nodded, "Sur—e."
"Glad you liked the idea."
She looked at him and nodded, "I do like the idea. And please don't do that," She begged with her eyes, "Seriously."
"Alright, alright, so how is your new home?" He asked to which she looked around at the architecture that looked straight out of the Victorian era, with huge archways, massive windows and a spectacularly symmetrical view, with everything looking about ten times her size.
"Big? Does Alfred do all the cleaning himself?"
Bruce who heard her couldn't help but laugh, "Some bots but mostly himself."
Just looking at those intricate archways that had so may corners for the dust to hide in, she really wondered if even bots could help that old man.
"Right."
—————
[A/N: Thanks for reading and we will continue next time, also Madison is monthly a stand-in for the GCPD, but that would imply he is corrupt won't it? Well, there is an event we will show in the future which will clear that up.]
