"Bree! Stop it!" The Bat voice caused strong men to quake in their tracks.
It had no effect on an irate six year old.
Brenda growled as her tiny double lit into Kat like a young pit bull, punching and biting, then tried her best to separate the girls without getting wounded too badly in the process.
Kat let out an angry screech, kicking and punching herself until two strong hands seized her from behind and lifted her into the air with a sharp movement that tugged the two girls apart easily.
"Calm down!" he barked in his best Commisioner voice, eyes angry. Kat froze, then gave a small shriek and kicking him in the face. He started and dropped her, and she vanished away to go seek out her costume before he saw her face.
"Don't wear that upstairs," growled Brenda, holding onto Ace as she bent double and tried to catch her breath from a major kick to the solar plexus.
"Brenda!" Bree gave a little cry of dismay and hurried to her 'older sister's' side with real concern.
"I'm alright." Brenda gave her a stern look. "Go and talk to Alfred."
Bree shrank small and crept from the room, looking totally chastened.
Brenda swallowed and lowered herself to sit on the floor, then held out a hand toward the back of the couch. "Come here, Clara. It's alright."
Dark eyes looked at her, then withdrew.
"They made him with my DNA." She arched one eyebrow at him. "He has my father's nose and my mother's eyebrows."
"Who made him?" Jm frowned.
She nodded, one finger tracing a scar on his finger that she remembered the origin of. She'd been rather amused way back when when the young police detective had taken it on himself to try and get a batarang out of the wall and wound up slicing his finger.
-God, guide me.-
"Contrary to what you've seen on television I'm an old-fashioned girl."
"Then I leave all the shots up to you," he said, looking at her. "I'm here whenever and for whatever you want."
She sighed and held his hand more firmly, feeling a tiny part of herself relax just a little bit. She trusted him, and that felt good.
Her eyes rose to meet his as she nodded. "How was the night?"
She already knew about all the criminal activity and what had been stopped, but she wanted to know how things were for him.
"He doesn't need anti-inflammatories," Brenda pointed out, actually pouting as she watched the setting up. It was an expression she'd used since a child, but it probably looked odd to Jim Gordon, used as he was to the grim Batwoman.
Leslie laughed softly, glad to see the look.
"He hasn't got any in his tea, dear. They're powdered, on the bottom of your cup."
Jim only stared in mild wonder at the human expression on her face.
"I... don't want coffee flavored tea." She peered suspiciously into her cup. "If this is bribery to take my medicine it's not working."
"I never did! This is the first time I even thought of it!" Brenda's brow furrowed. "Wait... Alfred told her about that... I was six years old!"
Bree ducked and set to work very industriously.
"It's alright. We have always tried to get away with certain things repeatedly in life," he chuckled.
She shook her head and heaved a put-upon sigh, but then leaned back into the crook of the loveseat arm and sipped her coffee thoughtfully. "No, she doesn't. But I suspect she's been staying here quite often."
"Thank you." Brenda wracked her brains for a conversation topic, but came up blank. She could chatter with the best of the bimbos if she put her mind to it, but that wouldn't help her in this situation.
Finally she sighed and glanced at the girls, then snapped her fingers for Ace and told him to bring her crutches.
"Need some help?" he asked, setting down his tea and offering her a hand.
Brenda chuckled and called for the lights, which switched on and showed the main computer area.
He blinked,then looked around in awe, jaw dropping slightly.
"Welcome to the Batcave." She reached the bottom of the stairs and crutched over to sit in front of the Crays, her ears as always tuned to the rustling and squeaking of the bats.
"That's not what you said before you took down the signal," she noted.
He stopped, then sighed.
"That was a bad time for all of us," he said softly.
Brenda nodded, her shoulders slumping slightly. But then she looked up and forced a small, rusty-looking smile. "Pull up a chair and let's work on this."
"And then all the paparazzi would have had to dig for the reason why the richest woman in Gotham went for a nobody." She smirked, then sobered and turned away. "He's loved me for sixteen years. And he's not a criminal mastermind."
"Good points," she chuckled. "Well... I'm hppy for you. He's a good man."
"You love the Commisioner!" came a sudden shout from the corner, where Katalyn popped out, looking shocked, offended, and frightened all at once.
Brenda scowled at the girl. "You're lucking he was distracted, or he would have suspected something. Don't ever do that again. No one who sees you will see Nightlife, they'll only see the orphaned ward of Brenda Wayne."