i_open Thresholds [open]
Door was running like hell again.
Those boots, laced up tightly, splashed in the murky water as her heart pounded and her ankle, which she'd twisted what seemed like hours back, throbbed viciously. She was certain that staccato rhythm must be audible to anyone or anything within fifty yards of her. Croup and Vandemar never ran; they always wore out their prey: slow, steady, then suddenly appearing just when you thought it was safe. Croup’s slick voice resonated through the tunnel:
"It’s quite all right, Lady Portico. You needn’t worry – for such a lovely girl, we shan’t make it hurt.
Much."
Panic seized her chest, squeezing down harder on a heart that was already strained from the exertion of running for she wasn’t sure quite how many miles. They were closer – still closer, that fox and that wolf. There was no way for them to have returned – she didn’t know how they could have returned. Much less did she know why they were after her.
Though that wasn’t quite true. It was clear why they were after her.
Revenge.
Croup and Vandemar were not the sort to split hairs about how their own evil natures led naturally to their own demises. No – if Croup and Vandemar were to fall, then those that pushed them – or even simply stepped out of the way to allow it – would certainly fall thrice as hard and ten times as bloodily.
In a moment of panic, Door wondered about whether Richard and the Marquis were safe.
But there was no time for that. She heard those onerous footsteps echoing through the tunnels (these accursed, doorless tunnels), until finally - finally - there was something. A long-forgotten door, not meant for use anymore. She’d never seen it before, but it didn’t matter, not for a moment did she hesitate, no; her hand was out, there was a whisper in her mind, and suddenly, like a breath, she was out.
+ + +
The place she passed into was unrecognizable. It seemed as though it shared some sort of distant kinship with London Above - buildings, grass, sky - but above all...
Daylight.
The sun blinded her as she stumbled out of a door to a building she didn't know. It was true that she didn't know London Above nearly so well as she knew the Underside, but it was impossible that this edifice - any of these that surrounded her - were a part of London. They didn't fit, as much as anything fit in the Upworld. Even before she turned around, she knew that the way that she'd come was now closed - and when she did turn around, she knew that Croup and Vandemar had not been able to follow her through. That knowledge allowed her to collapse to her knees, which in turn immediately sent excruciating blades of pain all the way up her calf, through her knee, into her thigh. Somehow, she managed to shift, dragging in breaths in impossibly large gulps, stretching out her injured leg in front of her, pulling the other close to her chest so that she could rest her forehead on her knee.
That she might be safe would be a foolish assumption - but given how close Croup and Vandemar had been, Door might feel comfortable saying that she was safer.
From: i_crusade Date: 06/28/2006 15:12:16
The door of City United Industry Tower swung open and Bruce Wayne stepped out, already tugging on his tie. It had been a long day. A long, boring, highly uninteresting day. He was ready to go home and start gearing up for the real work. More than ready.
As he stepped onto the sidewalk, he couldn't help but notice the soft sounds coming from his left. When he turned, he saw something he really hadn't expected.
"Excuse me, Miss," he asked, walking over to the girl who looked like she might be lost or crying or both at the same time. He offered his hand to her, to help her up. "Is everything all right? The cement's not all that comfortable. Want to sit down somewhere else?"
From: i_open Date: 06/28/2006 15:37:16
Door's head rose from her knee to look up at the stranger who'd greeted her. Her cheeks and eyes were dry, but she hadn't even thought her gasps would get her noticed Above - even if it wasn't London Above. The man was tall, and dressed like Richard had been when she'd first seen him; he was clean cut and everything he wore looked new. He was an Upworlder, he had to be - but he was genial, and friendly, and made a good show of concern... and he'd noticed her.
It hadn't occured to her for a moment that someone Up Here might notice her.
Deaf, for the moment, to his questions, she looked at him dumbfounded for a moment before replying,
"You can see me?"
From: i_crusade Date: 06/28/2006 15:42:34
"Plain as day, Miss," he said, squatting down now instead of waiting for her to take his hand. The smile he wore was genial and courteous, with something of a mischevious, charming glint. "Why wouldn't I?"
He gave her scratched knees a glance, then eyed the boots. They were freshly wet with mud and gunk, which was strange. It was a clear day outside, and no sign of mud around the street. In fact, when he looked, he saw no muddy tracks to show that she'd walked any distance to get here.
Oh.
"Let me guess," he said dryly. "This is your first time in the City."
From: i_open Date: 06/28/2006 15:51:30
There was a moment of hesitation, and her eyes narrowed slightly as he got down next to her - an even stranger move for an Upworlder. It shouldn't matter where she'd taken herself to - a normal Upworlder should not be able to see her.
But he was acting normal... she supposed. She'd observed Upworlders who were genial and helpful before... and sometimes, they were even sincere. Occasionally.
There was something not right here. But then he said something even stranger.
"The City?" she echoed, in her distinct, proper English accent. "Do you mean London?" She looked around.
"I live in London... well... in a manner of speaking."
Her gaze moved back to him.
"This isn't London. Have I somehow found my way to Edinburgh?"
From: i_crusade Date: 06/28/2006 15:56:44
Brand spanking new. And British.
"No, Miss, it's not London. It's not Edinburgh. It's not New York or Metropolis or Gotham or Chicago. But I bet if you look hard enough, you'll find bits and pieces of every city I just mentioned - and more - here. It's The City, and..."
She would find out soon enough anyway.
"No one that I know has been able to leave. We try, all of us try at one point or another, but it seems like the only way to get out of The City is by death. Sometimes, not even then."
He waited, arms resting on his elbows. Waited for the incredulous expression, then the struggle to try to understand. There would be no picking her up off the concrete until she went through that, he knew. So he waited.
From: i_open Date: 06/28/2006 16:23:16
"The City," she blinked. No one could leave? Door was not entirely untroubled by his statement, but nonetheless, she wasn't going to panic about it either. If he was an Upworlder, it made sense that he'd been so easily trapped... and if he wasn't...
Well. It was at the center of her very being to open things. If she couldn't open a way home, well then...
The very idea was ridiculous.
Wasn't it?
"Well, I have a sort of... talent... to finding ways through things," she said reassuringly.
Really, she wanted to find somewhere Underground as quickly as possible, take her boots off, give her ankle a bit of time to heal, and then be on her way.
But it did require getting up first.
Considering her position, she asked a bit sheepishly, "I don't suppose you'd mind helping me up now, then?"
From: i_crusade Date: 06/28/2006 16:27:09
"A finer idea I've never heard," he said, grinning. "Wish I'd have thought of it. C'mon, then."
And he stood again, offered both hands, and waited. The look she'd given her left ankle suggested that she might need more than just a hand up. He was patient. And as he waited for her to decide to take his hands, his Ferrari pulled up to the curb and the valet hopped out.
It was clear she didn't know who he was, and he was perfectly fine with that. It was refreshing, even. But the Ferarri... Well. There wasn't much to do but sink further into his playboy role.
From: i_open Date: 06/28/2006 16:38:31
As her hands slid into his, she offered him a smirk at his joke. She tugged more than just a little on his hands, drawing herself up with a hiss as she tried to avoid putting weight on her ankle. With the (obvious) danger over, the throbbing in her leg seemed to have decided that it was high time she know what it was about, and she very nearly fell once she did get herself to standing. It was only by sheer force of will (and gripping the not-an-Upworlder's hands inconsiderately tightly) that she managed to balance herself on one foot.
Then, that automobile pulled up, and she blinked at it, then looked at him suspiciously.
"Is that yours, then?" The way her voice moved over the words, it sounded as though she'd just been presented either with some sort of alien spacecraft on which it was certain experiments were about to be performed on her that involved rubber gloves and very uncomfortable instruments, or fifty kilos of dead squirrels, each with his name on it.
From: i_crusade Date: 06/28/2006 16:49:32
Letting her keep her pride was frustrating, but he understood the value of it. Because of that, he stayed still and didn't comment at all about her practical inability to walk. Where would she stay? Perhaps the City had built her a home somewhere, but how would she get there?
He glanced over at the car, shrugged once, and said, "Yeah. 'Fraid so. It's terribly uncomfortable, but the others aren't as much fun. If I knew you were going to pay the sidewalk a visit today, I would have brought the Rolls."
He paused, then gave the death grip she had on his hands a meaningful look.
"I know an expert on sprains and broken bones, goes by the name of Alfred. When I was a boy, he was always the one who watched me, and he was usually the first to get to me when I managed to make a mess of myself. He's a good man. I imagine he could set you to rights in no time. And then maybe we could get you home?"
Testing for her "home" was easiest like this.
From: i_open Date: 06/28/2006 17:18:06 The issue was this.
This wasn't London Above. It wasn't anywhere near it or much like it, according to this person. Her body was shaking just a little from exhaustion, and she wouldn't be able to open many more things without some rest or something to eat. Thus far, he didn't seem sinister - and when she looked into his face...
He was not a normal Upworlder.
It was possible that he might have nefarious plans for her. It was a certainty, though, that he didn't work for Croup or Vandemar... and if he did, her throat would have been slit by now. With that assurance, she wasn't entirely sure that she could trust him, but she could open her way out of most of the trouble she bet he could give her, if he tried... or she could open him.
That thought made her shudder, and she shook it off. For the moment, there were other choices beside trusting him, but they weren't many, and none of them were particularly attractive. Finally coming to a decision, she said, rather graciously, actually,
"I appreciate your offer, and I accept. Though..." she hesitated. "I'm not certain you'll be able to get me home. Though I appreciate that as well."
There was another pause, and she looked at him with a slight smile.
"I suppose we might want to do introductions, first though. My name is Door Portico."
She managed an impressively graceful curtsey for him, though she still held his hands.
"And you are..?"
From: i_crusade Date: 06/28/2006 17:26:43
He was struck first with her grace. She'd clearly taken up charm school or some such priviledged course, but at the same time, she seemed to have a revulsion for his car. Not the typical response from a rich little girl. He wondered what Daddy out there was missing her.
He also took note of the distrust lurking behind her eyes. The fact that she accepted his offer - again with grace and charm - showed just how lost she must be. The City was nothing familiar to her, then, nothing that made her feel as if she could make her way alone. Had he been her, he would not have gone with a strange, affluent man, no matter where he offered to take her.
Which brought him to the thought that she may very well be armed, or in some other way dangerous. He would watch her carefully, then, but he did not feel it necessary to refuse her just yet.
"And I," he said, forgoing the bow and carefully guiding her to his car instead, "Am Bruce Wayne. It is my pleasure to meet your acquaintence, Ms. Portico."
Strange name. It made him think of villans with their names... Another thing to make him wary. But it did not show at all in his face or in his expression. To the rest of the world (as it had to be), he was just indulging in his strange philanthropist ways, saving some damsel in distress. It was not uncommon for him.
"And now," he said, sliding her grip on both his hands so that it only gripped one instead, and using the free one to open his door. "May I assist you into the car?"
From: i_open Date: 06/28/2006 19:23:57
"You're very gracious, Mr. Wayne," she said, using the honorific she'd heard Upworlders employ for men that seemed to be appropriate according to the one he'd used for her. As he opened the door for her, she had to wonder.
It was simply bizarre. Clearly, he had somehow successfully acquired at least some of the trappings of a successful Upworlder. Of course, there were those who straddled the worlds of Above and Below both, but generally, they rarely possessed more than what they could carry on their backs or in their hands. They remained on the fringe of Upworld society, either begging or playing music for spare change or the like. As she took in this very new, very shiny, very low-to-the-ground auto, she had to wonder if he really was just an Upworlder.
But he could see her. Granted, Richard had been able to see her, but he'd lost everything shortly thereafter. The thought gave her cause for alarm, until she looked up at him again. No, Richard had always been good at blending in himself. This man - this man was Someone here. Perhaps a Lord of some kind? Why hadn't he stated his title? It nagged at her, the fact that not only could he see her, but he was attentive, not dismissive, and didn't rush to get away from her. He was taking her somewhere, supposedly, to get help.
This was not home. Things were making less and less sense.
One of those things was the car itself, and how she would get into it. It was very, very low to the ground, and even with two whole legs, she wasn't quite sure how she would get in without climbing headfirst. However, given the state of her ankle, she knew that this wouldn't be a good idea - and most likely not even possible. And so, she looked up at him and said,
"Thank you. I'm afraid you may have to - I'm really not certain how to do this." It wasn't a deliberately ambivalent statement, but the fact remained that she was as much talking about how to get into the car without injuring herself further as she was how to get into the car at all.
From: i_crusade Date: 06/28/2006 19:28:49
He didn't risk letting her hurt herself even more by letting her try to hobble into the car. But he was not so blind to how uncomfortable it would make her feel when he picked her up bodily and did the necessary thing for her. He threw a hefty dose of joking gallantry on top of it.
"Anyone knows that a knight could never let the princess do a single thing that he could do for her. You are a princess, aren't you? Ah, I thought so. Allow me, My Lady," he said, easily sweeping her up into his arms, and just as easily bending from the curb to set her in passenger's side bucket seat. All of this was done with a devil-may-care grin. When she was safely inside, he even fastened her seatbelt, to maintain the charade.
"And now..."
He closed the door, then vaulted himself over the hood of the car and slid into his seat on the other side.
"Away, we go, into the sunset... Well, if you squint, it might be sunset anyhow."
Another grin, then he gunned the engine and set out to Wayne Manor, where Alfred was about to have to pull out the first aid kit.
From: i_open Date: 06/29/2006 08:26:50
It wasn't so much that she held herself stiffly as he deposited her into the car, but it wasn't at all that she was in any way at ease.
"Not a princess," she smiled slightly, unable to hide the slight sadness behind it. The days since her station had meant anything to her were long over - the House to which she'd been born was all but gone, except for her. It didn't seem worth mentioning.
"But a knight? I'd have thought an Earl or some such... of what barony or fiefdom are you a knight then, Sir Bruce?"
But before she could listen to his response, he was racing off, sending her heart trying to rocket out of her chest, and she let out a little yelp, her eyes wide. The car was tiny and strange and closed in, and he was going so fast that she was sure that they were going to die as they wove in and out of traffic. Her hands grabbed at the seat and the door for purchase.
"By the Temple and Arch," she breathed, telling herself that this must be some kind of Upworld magic, that kept them from being killed.
From: i_crusade Date: 06/30/2006 18:54:28
Not a princess. Interesting. And so she ran away. Or she was cast out. It would explain the way she avoided speaking her mind, the reason why she did not give the seeming of a spoiled rich girl. She did not have that power backing her up any longer. No family to speak of. Perhaps.
Once he'd displayed the utterly foolish need for speed that all utterly foolish playboys showed with their foolish, overpriced, over-horsed cars, he slowed to a reasonable speed and gave her a sheepish grin.
"Sorry. Sometimes I forget that the road wasn't built just for me. Temple and Arch?" he asked smoothly. "Whatever is that?"
Wayne Manor was close. The streets were parting for him, the City shifting to his desire (as it seemed to), and it was beginning to look familiar now. Two more turns, the shore, and then his home. Would she give away any more of her secrets in the few scant minutes they had left?
From: i_open Date: 07/03/2006 09:05:29
"It's quite all right," she said, catching her breath and trying to relax. "I'm simply not used to... things like this."
Door motioned with her hand to the vehicle in general. In general, she had no compunction about revealing her origins to people she met. Normal Upworlders generally didn't notice her, and even if they did - even if Upworlders would, for some reason, begin to want to come down Below - they were no threat. Generally, untrained Upworlders couldn't survive more than five minutes Underground. Who she was - that was something of a different story. But even if who she was meant anything to him - which was unlikely, though not impossible - he wasn't likely to figure that out unless she did something stupid.
He threw her off slightly in asking about the Temple and Arch, but she answered nonetheless.
"Oh," she looked at him in surprise for a moment. The phrase came so casually out of her mouth that it didn't even occur to her that Sir-Bruce-Not-An-Upworlder wouldn't likely understand it, even if there was something more to him than he seemed.
"It's just an oath, of sorts... I suppose it's rather like 'Holy Toledo,' or some such," she said, trying to recall something an upworlder would say that compared.
From: i_crusade Date: 07/03/2006 10:46:12
Not used to "things like this," this being a perfectly reasonable car for a wealthy man. Either she had never been around any wealthy men, or she wasn't from a wealthy family. Both assumptions sounded equally preposterous. What an interesting woman this Door was.
He pulled up to the side entrance of his home, and then into the garage, fully aware that the girl in his car would probably not be as un-astonished as he had thought she'd originally be, at a place like Wayne Manor.
"That's an interesting oath," he said, as he hopped out of the front seat and started around the side of his car. When he opened the door to the passenger side, he gave her an apologetic look.
"Might hurt a bit, the moving and all. Do you think you'll be all right? It might make it a little easier if you held onto my neck at first, so that the lifting will not jar so bad."
From: i_open Date: 07/03/2006 11:58:52
It was an enormous estate, certainly - such a large building. It was strange, a place with so much of itself readily visible. It was a grand manor, to be sure, a mite overwhelming in its sheer obvious size. There was wealth in the Underground - palatial estates, even. Her own home was extensively large, but there was no way to tell this until you were inside. The rooms were all independent of each other, only accessible by the Portico family's singular power. There were more rooms than Door could count off the top of her head, but only the family knew that. In London above, there were certainly places of great wealth and beauty - there were palaces, and manors. But the larger places were well-protected by guards and the like. She saw no guards here, though there was a gate, surely. Upworlder security seemed terribly inefficient and ineffective compared to the Underground - after all, London Below managed to create the Floating Market in some of the most opulent buildings in London Above and dismantle the same in one night - and this every few days.
Once they were in the darker, more enclosed garage, however, she was more at her ease. When he opened the door, she looked up at him with a slight smile and murmured,
"Of course." As she slipped her arms around his neck, she took note that he had many carriages such as these.
Then, her curiosity getting the better of her, she asked, "Mr. Wayne... forgive my rudeness, but... how do you protect your home when it's so large, and so exposed on so many sides?"
His expression had shifted ever so slightly, and there it was - that something else, which, beside the fact that he could see her clear as day, told her that there was something more going on here. Oddly enough that something more made her a bit more comfortable, rather than making her feel ill-at-ease. Her question seemed to perplex him slightly, though, and once again she was confused by him.
It occurred to her that if there was a convergence of worlds afoot, that things might not be quite the same for him as they were for her - and yet, Door did not accept that there was any world anywhere that didn't have an idea of "Above" and "Below." For every shining surface, there must be a darker, deeper Underneath. It was simply the way of things. And since she'd met Richard, Door knew that sometimes, that which shone brightest could as easily hide an Underneath deeper than London Below. Perhaps things were just... different where he came from.
A sardonic smile appeared on her lips as she shook her head.
"Well, no, I'm afraid. But then, neither are you, are you?" she inquired.
Before she could continue to tell him a bit more about where she was from - what harm could it do? - they were in the kitchen and there was someone else there. As the older gentleman moved toward her carrying what looked like simple bandages and other healing supplies, she looked at him. He was dressed in what she supposed what the manner of a servant must be here Above, and yet he didn't carry himself as such at all. This man was at his ease in this house - was trusted, possibly family. Her eyes went back to Mr. Wayne-Sir-Bruce, then her smile gentled slightly.
"Perhaps you could introduce us?" she asked quietly.
From: i_crusade Date: 07/03/2006 15:11:27
When he settled her into a kitchen chair and pulled out another one to prop up her leg, he glanced back at her. Heh.
"I guess I'm not, at that," he commented quietly. Straightening, he gestured to Alfred then to Door. "Door, this is Alfred. Alfred, this is Ms. Door Portico."
"A pleasure, Miss," Alfred said, in a polite English accent. Like a gentleman, he did not ask to shake her hand. After introductions, he began setting the bandages on the table. "It seems to me that you're hurt. Would you allow me to see to it?"
Bruce didn't smile, but the subtle signs of tension were dissolving. Alfred was always a calming influence.
From: i_open Date: 07/03/2006 15:44:53
Door's face lit up at hearing Alfred's accent. It sounded like London - just a touch, just a tiny touch, of cockney.
"It's lovely to meet you, Alfred," she replied with a little smile. The car drove on the wrong side of the road for it to be England, but Alfred was certainly not American. "And of course... just let me..."
With impressive speed and nimbleness of hands, Door managed to unlace and loosen her left boot to the point where it could be pulled off easily - though she couldn't do it herself without bending her ankle uncomfortably. As soon as the pressure from the leather was relieved, her ankle felt like it had swollen to four times its previous size. There was a wince and a tiny, sharp sound of pain from the back of her throat. Taking a breath, setting her jaw, then turning her gaze away from her ankle to Sir Bruce, she asked,
"So then... if you're not from here - wherever this is - where is it that you are from?"
From: i_crusade Date: 07/03/2006 15:58:37
Bruce noticed how she deliberately diverted her eyes, and pulled a chair up beside her. He positioned himself so that when he leaned back, his shoulder would obscure her vision of her ankle. And then he realized what he was doing.
He leaned forward instead. Behind him, Alfred began the careful work of finding the damage and repairing it.
"Gotham," Bruce responded. "Some things are like Gotham, here. The City saw fit to allow me to keep my manor. Wayne Enterprises was merged into a sort of... Well. Needless to say that my business is still... intact. Just different."
Watching her face for any sign of pain, he asked her, "Can I get you a drink?"
From: i_open Date: 07/03/2006 16:23:23
"Water would be lovely," she replied, swallowing as Alfred necessarily felt her swollen, throbbing, slightly discolored ankle. Her eyes darted back to it, and she winced. It looked rather uglier than she'd expected... It was a fact that she would heal quickly, but also a fact that if it wasn't set right, it might not heal properly.
"Gotham?" she echoed quizzically. "I've never heard of Gotham. It is American, though, isn't it?" Sir Bruce's accent sounded distinctly American... but Door couldn't place quite where, possibly because she wasn't at all familiar with America, possibly because the city he lived in didn't exist in her world. "Is there a London in your world? England?"
She took a breath. The mention of London brought her mind back to Richard and the Marquis, and what state they might be in. Door had left Croup and Vandemar behind, but they were still in London Below with Richard and the Marquis... who didn't know they were back. Suddenly, she knew she should have waited on tending to her ankle, and looked back to Sir Bruce.
"I'm sorry... I really ought to find my way back home... I have friends who may be in... trouble. I'm certain I can find a way if I can only find the right door..."
From: i_crusade Date: 07/04/2006 19:53:04
"Yes, it's American," Bruce confirmed. "And there is a London here, too. At least, I assume that there is, out past the City walls. No one has ever made it past them however, none that we know about anyway. So who knows if London's out there. Who knows where this is. It is a strange thing, this City. I wish I could give you more information, but it is somewhat new to me as well."
Alfred was carefully searching the injured ankle for breaks, but found none. The possibility of a fracture was high, however, and so he was particularly careful to wrap the ankle tightly, with precise positioning of her ankle first. When he was done, he went to the freezer, where a great abundance of ice packs were stored.
Bruce, on the other hand, was shaking his head. "It's late already, you're new in the City, and it's dark outside now. If you'd like, you could give me your friends' names, and I'll do my best to search for them here. They may not have arrived yet. But with the way your ankle's looking down there, and the fact that it'd be pretty hard to find your way around now, even if you were an old pro at navigating The City, let me suggest that you just take it easy for the rest of the night.
"In the morning, if you like, we can take you wherever you want to go. But will you stay here tonight? You'd make me feel a great deal better if you did."
From: i_open Date: 07/04/2006 22:02:41
Alfred earned himself a bit of a smile and a "Thank you" with his attentive care. His work would set her ankle to healing faster - it would be easy to walk on by morning.
But it wasn't easy to walk on yet.
But this Sir Bruce... he was asking for her friends' names, and the truth was, it had been a bad enough idea, in retrospect to give him her own. If Croup and Vandemar somehow managed to follow her here somehow (and she put nothing past them), he could be in danger just for knowing that much - and he could point them in her direction fairly easily (which she wouldn't put past almost anyone, especially if they faced Mssrs. Croup and Vandemar).
"Oh, I don't... I don't think that will be necessary," she said. "That is, I can't imagine how my friends would have gotten here..."
Unfortunately, it wasn't entirely true. They could have gotten here through any number of odd means - the Underside was always changing, with passages here and there opening and closing at odd intervals. Nonetheless, Door had already risked her own well-being by coming here.. there was no reason to take the small chance that Richard and the Marquis might be put at risk as well.
As for his offer... under normal circumstances, she would have been gone already. Staying Above for a night seemed like sheer madness. The fact was that Door would have felt more comfortable if she could have somehow found the Underside here - but the Underside you didn't know could be as dangerous as Above, and Sir Bruce hadn't tried to murder her yet.
Indecision reflected in her eyes, and she looked down at her hands, worrying her lip for a moment.
"I suppose..." she began slowly, then shook her head. "That is, I thank you for your hospitality, and I appreciate and accept your offer to extend it further."
There was another pause, then she said,
"Thank you."
From: i_crusade Date: 07/05/2006 11:09:07
"Very good," Bruce said, letting the issue of her friends drop. "Then I suggest we get you up to your room. We can have dinner brought up for you, and you can lounge around like a real princess for a while."
Alfred finished wrapping the ice pack around her ankle. It had velcro to keep it in place, and it was balanced so that it would not put too much pressure on any one area. When he heard that the little miss would be staying, he did not restrain his smile. Perhaps Bruce would finally stop moping around.
"I'll have to carry you upstairs, though," he cautioned, as he eyed Alfred's suspicious grin. He knew what the old man was thinking. Would he ever be free of the man's romantic machinations? "Is that okay with you, Ms. Door?"
From: i_open Date: 07/05/2006 12:37:43
"A real princess? That sounds lovely," she replied.
Almost against her will, Door smiled at him. He was sweet, this one, and that along with her exhaustion was allaying some of her suspicion. Or at least, that's what she wanted to tell herself. There was something familiar about him, though she could hardly place it, and he was being chivalrous and kind. The idea of lounging like a princess seemed as far away as anything could be, and yet perhaps just for tonight, she could be comfortable, she could be safe.
Just as the thought crossed her mind, she had to clamped down on the bolt of fear that struck through her.
Ignoring that, she replied to his second question, perhaps a bit more reticently, but still smiling a little, "Thank you. You've been very kind. I suppose I should say I'll walk up myself, you've carried me about so much already, but I imagine it might take me until morning to get there."
With that, he lifted her gently, and she put her arms around his neck as he carried her upstairs, waving to Alfred as Sir Bruce carried her off.
For tonight, she might not be a princess... but in this strange City, where everything was so uncertain, Door found that she might just be able to rest.