Re: Gotham log: Bruce W & Zatanna Z
[She recognized him.
Oh, she recognized the man with the face like carved stone and the broad shoulders that wore kevlar as easily as well-fitted Italian wool. He looked as he had the last time she had seen him, stony and uncompromising but the puppy at his feet, that was new. She pictured Bruce with cats, not dogs. The puppy was more apt, and she tilted her head and observed the solemn creature, a river of black hair over her shoulders.
But no, he did not recognize her. She saw unfamiliarity blink in cool eyes and she smiled, simple, the palms of her hands tilted upwards, the remnants of chalk and dust and resins clinging to the roots of her fingers. Harmless, that gesture said, even if she had never been harmless in her life. She slid to her knees, and let the puppy nudge her fingers and the strange smell there.]
I'm Zatanna. You need not ring for Alfred [She spoke knowingly, the lilt in her voice was laughter, and she rubbed the ears of the puppy with a careless sort of caress. And then she looked at Bruce, as she rose.] He will not know me either, though I know him. [Her voice gentled.] Hello, old friend.