Legendary

When I woke up again, Eira was nosing my hand and Damian was awake too. I automatically checked his readouts, dressings, and bowel sounds and things looked good. I helped him to the bathroom and then made him lay still for another scan, which could detect developing abscesses or peritonitis, but he looked fine and I started to feel better. I rolled him back to bed and went up to the kitchen to feed Eira. I found some of Alfred's delicious chicken stock in the freezer, thawing enough for a small meal in the microwave and adding a little finely shredded chicken and a few noodles for garnish. There wasn't any apple juice, but I found some cider instead, which seemed close enough and had some flavor, and took the tray down to my husband.

"How much longer do I have to eat the baby food?" he asked, the edge of a whine on his voice, which I decided to ignore. For now.

"A few days, then we can start to add more robust foods to your diet," I said implacably. "Once I'm convinced that the surgery was without complications, I'll use the accelerator to heal the incisions and we'll go home." He looked interested. "And just remember, patients who are docile and don't complain too much can have a milkshake later." He grinned.

"I remember when I was sick when we first moved into the manor," he said. "I've learned my lesson." He scooted over carefully and patted the bed next to him. "I'm pretty sure that if you were to take a nap with me I'd heal a lot faster." I laughed and crawled onto the bed next to him, glad it was a full-sized bed. I put my head on his shoulder and he took my hand as I told him that the organisms had been delivered. Then I yawned, making him and Eira yawn. When I woke up again, I felt better for the nap, but there were a couple of men I didn't recognize in the door. Instantly, I was at the end of the bed with Eira, who'd joined us some time for the nap and who was growling, my wings snapped out to add another layer of protection between Damian and the strangers.

"Who are you and what do you want?" I asked the men, who were looking askance at the wings.

The red-haired one raised his hands. "Sorry to startle you. We've met before, back when Damian was still a kid. I'm Jason, Jason Todd. This is Tim Drake." The one with the black hair waved at me, a little uncertainly. I sat back and combed my memory, then I remembered the man sitting at Damian's bedside the first time I saw him get a beating. And there was something about his predecessor Robin. Red Robin. Right, Tim Drake. Ok. I packed the wings away, although it had felt really good to have them out again. Maybe I could fly around the estate some before we went home.

"Sorry, but you did startle me." It was a good thing I wasn't going around armed these days. Eira let her snarl fade and she stopped growling, although she was still alert. "How'd you get in?"

"Through the batcave," Tim said. I liked his voice even though it was a tenor; it was like smooth caramel. Maybe I needed something to eat.

"Ah," I said. "That's how I got in the first time too."

"Where's Alfred?" Jason asked. "I'm kind of surprised he didn't catch us."

"On vacation, believe it or not," I said, smiling. "Exploring the Aztec ruins."

"What are you guys doing here?" Damian mumbled, waking up and rubbing his eyes, then looking around.

"Hey, Dork," Jason said cheerfully, walking over and giving him a noogie. Damian swatted at him.

"Todd. Took you long enough," he said. "Drake?"

"Hey, brat," Tim said. "Who's the babe?"

"You can address her directly," Damian said testily.

"I thought she and the dog were going to take us apart," Tim said, looking at me warily. "She's kind of... extra."

"This is my wife, Alex Barnes," Damian said in a tone that was simultaneously proud and gloating, squeezing my hand. I smiled at him. "She's tough in ways that will require a lengthy explanation, so it is best if you remain respectful."

"I still can't believe you got her to marry you, punk," Jason said, shaking his head. "And that you're still together. I thought for certain she would have done better the second time around."

Damian's face lost its amusement. "Undoubtedly she could, but fortunately for me, she has not." I slid off the bed.

"I just had a more exciting afterlife than most. Damian is recovering from appendicitis and a beating, so don't get him riled up and you can visit," I directed, bringing in another chair for the guests. I went upstairs, Eira electing to stay with Damian. I took my time, rooting around in the kitchen, slicing frozen cookie dough and doing a little baking. I left a plate of cookies for anyone who wandered in and took some downstairs.

"You can have two," I told my husband. He grabbed the two biggest ones off the plate, and I rolled my eyes, smiling, before offering the rest to the visitors, taking one for myself and giving Eira a Greenie, settling next to Damian again.

"I've never seen a dog like that," Jason said to me. "It makes sense that Dork would have a dog, but it is weird that you guys only have one pet."

"Her name is Eira, and she doesn't actually have a breed. She's like a dog, but different. The god Baldur developed them and has been overseeing their development for millennia. She's still a puppy, but she'll be big when she is fully grown; her mom's head comes up to here on me." I held my hand to my sternum, just above my breasts. "And she's intelligent, she actually does understand everything you say and we can communicate."

"Shit," Tim muttered. "I hope I didn't offend her. In any way." I felt Eira's equivalent of a laugh in my mind.

"No, you entertain her."

"So how does this work?" Jason asked, leaning forward. "How did you get her?"

"She chose me," I said, grinning at her, letting my fondness for her roll through our communication. "She was tiny when I saw her first, about the size of a smallish Keeshond. But quite determined." She made a happy sound. "I met her parents, and while they weren't happy about her leaving Asgard, she does get to visit them when she wants."

"She doesn't look like an alien," Jason said, looking at her carefully.

"No, but then Thor doesn't either."

"Huh." After Jason's response, I could feel Damian suppressing a yawn.

"Thanks for dropping by, fellas, but it's time to go now," I said cheerfully. They got up without protest and I gave them key cards that would give them access through the doors, having gotten in contact with Daniel for approval when I was baking the cookies. After they left, all three of us went back to sleep. It had been a long night for Eira and me too. We woke up when Martha Sr poked her head in to see how her grandson was doing and to offer dinner. Eira went with her to have her own dinner and a good run outside. Martha had turned down my help, telling me to take it easy, and she and Bruce brought down more chicken soup for Damian and the meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and veggies that was the family dinner for me. I felt ravenous and polished it off quickly. People popped in to see Damian as we ate and afterward, while we had the news on. Martha called from London, still up, ironing out a problem in a new Wayne Enterprises acquisition over there. J came over and double-checked my work, giving me a begrudging approval. I felt a lot better having somebody competent checking Damian.

The next day I was scheduled to go into therapy early, then to work to check the tanks, then I planned to do some advanced reading. Alfred was due back that afternoon, thank heavens, and with Thanksgiving the next week, I wanted to be on hand to offer any small help he could use.

Apparently getting my marriage straightened out added stability to my mental state; I was making great progress with my PTSD and we cut my therapy back to once a week. I felt pretty good as I walked up the street toward the lab.

There was some kind of disturbance in the building, I saw as I approached. There was an ambulance and a crew in hazmat suits going inside. I went up to a police officer who was stationed at crime scene tape. "I'm a partner in a business in this building," I said. "What's going on?" The officer looked at me carefully.

"May I see some identification, please?" She was polite, but it was still an order. I showed my drivers license to her and after studying it, summoned over someone in plain clothes.

Detective Jimenez asked my name and business, then nodded. "We're investigating a break in at your lab," she said. "You said you're a partner? You can either give us permission to look at the security footage from your cameras last night or we can get a court order."

"I'll give you immediate access if I can watch them with you," I said, and after a moment of hesitation, she agreed. I pulled up the footage through an app on my communicator and we fastforwarded through several hours of no activity, beginning when Tony and Ann left for the night. I identified them absently for the police officer. Around 3 am, the door opened and two figures entered the room.

"That first man is the guy who delivered the tanks of algae and bacteria," I said, puzzled, as the man stepped into the streetlight shining through the windows. I winced as he took a pipe and smashed all of our tanks, the water and organisms slopping out onto the floor. The second man stayed back the whole time, but as he turned to go, light from the hall lit his face and I swore.

"You know that guy?" the detective asked, and I nodded.

"That's the Joker," I said, pissed. "A returned crime lord. But why would he be in the lab, and why would he want the tanks smashed?" I rubbed my face.

"That's the trillion dollar question," the detective said dryly. "As near as the folks from the crime lab can tell, there was something toxic in the stuff in the tanks. When your partners walked in, they were affected immediately. They started to laugh uncontrollably, then collapsed on the stairs as they tried to get away."

"Joker venom," I said grimly. "Are they ok?"

"They're being treated at one of the hospitals. It seemed to come from those tanks."

"Those are common strains of bacteria and algae that were slated to be modified to consume old plastics and metal garbage in the oceans," I said, mystified. "Ann hasn't even started to modify them. When the place is safe to enter, I'll get you the invoices for them." She nodded and continued to question me until she had a good idea about the scope of the business, what we were trying to accomplish, how I knew the Joker, and where my husband was. At the ancestral home, recovering from a beating--from a mugging, I implied. I didn't mention the surgery, not wanting to get into trouble for a surgery that I really wasn't qualified to perform, or reveal the surgical suite.

The detective told me to stick around and went back to supervising the situation. I moved away and called Bruce. He was pissed to find out that the Joker was up to his old tricks, and said he'd start to investigate, feeling like this was a direct attack on my husband. And possibly me, since if the Joker had a watcher on the building, I'd have been seen going in and out a lot more. I called Damian reluctantly, but while he was disturbed about what had happened, he seemed glad to have something to work on. He directed me to cooperate fully with the police as I'd planned to do and said he'd call the insurance agency.

It was almost an hour later when things started to show signs of being wrapped up. I was cold despite my coat and gloves, and grateful when the detective summoned me. "The hospital reports that your business partners are recovering," she said with no preamble. "Apparently they had files on this stuff from before and they found it hasn't changed much. The chemical spills team has completed the cleanup, so I want you to go up with me, get those invoices, see if anything else is damaged or disturbed, and call the security company to get them to send us a copy of the footage from last night." In the lab, the only change that I could see was that the tanks were gone. One of the windows had been damaged from a chunk of tank cracking it, but that was the only damage I noted. I found the invoices where Damian said they'd be, made copies for the business, and handed the originals to the detective, who wrote me a receipt for them. I phoned the security company, went through the identity process, and authorized them to release the footage from our security camera to the police, and Detective Jimenez said she'd be in touch before leaving.

I waited for the insurance adjuster, who was supposed to be on his way, and put things that the hazmat cleaners had moved back into place. I'd retreated to my office and was playing solitaire on my communicator when I got a call from the lawyers; they'd filed the lawsuit over the documentary. I'd been expecting it and wanted them to hurry so we could get this thing settled, but somehow the formal notification made it game on. I wanted to suit up for battle, but unfortunately, my swords weren't going to be any help here. Mr Black arrived while I was contemplating this, tutted over the increase in crime, watched the security footage, noted the damage to the window and the door lock where somebody had clumsily forced it--I'd overlooked that, recommended a locksmith, and said that he'd process the claim quickly. We shook hands and I made the call for an emergency locksmith. While I was waiting, I called the company we'd used to supply our organisms and blasted them. They were horrified by what had happened and looked up their records, locating the deliveryman. They checked their timekeeping and found that the man had never returned after the afternoon when he'd made our delivery and told me they'd notify the police. Furthermore, when we got our new tanks, they would replace our organisms free of charge. I mellowed with their reasonableness, which was all I could wish for, and said that one of us would pick it up. Then I called the scientific apparatus company we'd gotten the tanks from, explained that our tanks had been destroyed in a break-in, and placed an order for new ones as well as the system that would agitate the water gently like a tide and splurged on an upgraded monitoring system that would keep the oxygen, pH, and turbidity within a set range. Then the locksmith arrived with a few locksets to choose from; I got the one that was sturdiest and hardest to circumvent. I asked if he had one that would electrocute somebody who was trying to diddle with it, but he thought I was joking and laughed it off.

After that was taken care of, I called Tony, who picked up to my surprise. He and Ann had been treated and released and were ok. He swore quite a lot to get it out of his system, then told me that they'd retreated immediately when they caught the odor in the lab. The hospital staff thought that this limited exposure saved their lives. I caught him up with the progress I'd made, and we agreed that they should take time off until the tanks were shipped. "I'm sorry, Sparky, this is my fault," I said miserably. "It was the Joker, he was captured on the security recording."

"It's not your fault," he said sternly. "Whoever did this is whose fault it is." We took a moment each to work through this convolution.

"I've involved my father-in-law," I said with a sigh. I knew Bruce was probably already all over it since the Joker had shown up.

"That's good," Tony said. "We can use all the help we can get." After telling him to let me know if there was anything he or Ann needed, I hung up.

And then, because there was time and I was tense, I went to the tower and helped my uncle with lessons, getting in on the last two. Afterward, I told him my troubles as I stretched. It felt good, both the stretching in the familiar environment, and getting advice from my uncle. There wasn't much he could do, but I felt better for having told him anyway. "There isn't much you can do right now, but if you see the Joker again, sweetie, don't hesitate. Put him down first, call a lawyer second. Given your history and this latest thing, there shouldn't be any trouble over it." I went in for a hug, enjoying his new plum-colored flannel shirt. Then we went upstairs together, and he said that he knew what he wanted to do now. My ears perked up.

"I want to be a zookeeper," he said.

"Wow," I said. "I did not expect that." He grinned.

"I like animals, and after the life I've led, even big animals are more peaceful," he said placidly, and I smiled. "The clinic ran tests on my arm after we returned, and it's part natural, part Emma's alloy from the last arm she made me. It has a hefty chunk of vibranium, so it's still damage-resistant. I need a bachelors degree in zoology, ecology, something like that and experience working with animals, but there are several zoos around here and they offer internships too."

"That sounds cool," I said.

"I may be joining you at Columbia," he said as we walked onto the the street. "They have a degree in environmental biology that provides courses on animals, the environment, physiology, and conservation."

"You might want to be a zoo vet," I mused, and he looked surprised. I shrugged. "It would be a way to really help the animals and sick or injured animals can be dangerous. You could take additional coursework just to lay a foundation for that if you want to consider it in the future after you've gotten some experience. I could tutor if you need help in the biology or chemistry, at least the lower level stuff. Who knows what advances have been made since the last time I studied." We walked for half a block.

"I might," Bucky said finally. "It's something to consider." We separated at the corner after a hug and I faded into an alley where I poofed back home. Well, to Damian anyway; wherever he was was home for me.

I was just in time to bundle him into the wheelchair to get a scan done before J arrived. He looked at the new scan carefully and thought that it would be ok to get everything healed up as there was no signs of infection. He took care of it himself, but I hovered. He was annoyed, but I didn't care. The patient was precious to me. As a reward for not being snarky, I told him about our uncle's plans.

"Huh," he said. "I can see him working with animals. After what he's been through, it would probably be pretty soothing." Eira had been listening too, and I laughed.

"She likes the idea of having a personal vet," I said, and both J and Damian laughed too.

After that, I went upstairs to help Martha with dinner and we discussed the goings on at the lab. "I don't know what this world is coming to," she said, shaking her head. Since people have been saying that for at least as long as I've been around, there really wasn't much to say to that. Instead, I asked how her job was going; she was working in the sales department at Wayne. "Learning all the products we're selling in my unit is a challenge," she said. She was assigned to the pharmaceutical sales group. She'd done this before having Bruce, but she said that the process had changed considerably, and of course there was so much to know about all the new drugs too. It was very interesting, and I asked a lot of questions.

"How lovely to see two of my favorite people," a voice said from the door, and I turned to see the return of Alfred. I grinned, put my knife down, and hustled over for a hug.

"How was your vacation?" I asked, letting go and returning to my vegetables. He described eight days of exploring the fascinating ruins and joining a team of British archaeologists on a dig in the jungle. He seemed energized by the adventure, which included an encounter with tomb raiders hoping to loot the site; the archaeologists had uncovered the base of a monument of some kind that had been dismantled, possibly to reuse the stone in another project.

"And how were your days?" he asked us, quickly checking the pots Martha had going and shooting a swift glance at my chopping. I felt self-conscious about my less-than-perfect dice.

"Damian was hurt in a beating and Alex performed an appendectomy," Martha said. "The Joker broke into her lab last night and destroyed the tanks, and there was a release of that gas he used. But otherwise, it's been very calm." Alfred's eyes opened wide.

"Damian's downstairs still," I chipped in, and he murmured something and hustled off. Martha and I looked at each other and held off until we heard the door to the batcave close softly before laughing. "He finally takes a vacation and the place goes to hell," I said, setting us off again.

Martha threw a couple of baguettes Alfred had made and frozen into the oven, and we press ganged Thomas into setting the table. J had said that Damian could come up to dinner and eat lightly, so we had a full table, forcing Alfred to sit with us and tell us about his adventures in more detail. I smiled as I listened intently to the story he was telling; only Alfred could go out doing touristy things and end up capturing several of a gang of archaeological heritage looters. "It is good to be home, however," he said.

He insisted on retaking his role of postprandial libation dispenser in the library, doling out coffee, tea, and brandy as we preferred. After that, Eira herded him to a chair and put her head on his knee for skritches. Damian and I would spend one more night at the mansion because I was being paranoid and wanted another clean scan before going home. "Eira doesn't mind," I said, looking at her and Alfred and smiling. "She loves running around." After another couple hours of conversation, I insisted that Damian make an early evening of it and took him up to our former suite. I found Alfred had somehow beaten me to it and brought up our things from the recovery room. I was beginning to suspect him of magic. I got Damian settled; he was more tired than he wanted to admit, and after he went to sleep, I went back downstairs for a little. It was nice to chat with the family. Damian had had an almost constant flow of visitors, I'd found out, which accounted for his fatigue. He thought he shouldn't be that tired, but was overlooking the serious nature of his injuries and illness.

Daniel waited until everybody else was drifting away before asking if I could stay for a talk. I moved over and we talked a little about the lawsuit, then Uncle Bucky's plans to be a zookeeper. He was in awe of Bucky; I think Bucky was a personal hero to him. He was always a little shy and deferential when they met. When everybody had left the library, Daniel went to his desk and unrolled a large piece of projective film, spreading it flat on the desk. I went over to look. It was a topographical map of the estate. You could also explore the cave system underneath by adjusting the projection, and make it more or less opaque as you pleased. Daniel poked his finger into a place on the other side of the batcave. "I wanted to offer you and Grandpa this site to build your own house on," he said. "A gift. It would be far enough away from the main house that you could have your privacy, but close enough that you could drop by for meals sometimes, and Eira would have the run of the grounds." He looked at me through his lashes; like Damian's, they were ridiculously long and plush. "I've been thinking about it for awhile, but with Grandpa's injury and the Joker on the loose again, I thought I'd finally discuss it with you. See what you thought. The estate is about 6000 acres, give or take, so a little over nine square miles. Lots of room." He hesitated. "It would take time to build, even if we hired workers from the crews that the company employs."

"It's such a generous offer, Daniel," I said warmly. "I"ll talk to Damian about it tomorrow when he's awake. But if we take you up on this, we'll be paying for the construction. That would be non-negotiable." There was a little argument about that, but I suspected it was pro forma, something that Daniel had already decided to yield on to make the offer more attractive. He was Damian's heir in more ways than one. I took a flight after we talked; the conservatory windows opened wide so I didn't have to scramble around on the roof. I'd forgotten how soothing and wonderful flying was, feeling the air stroking my feathers and cooling my face.

I told Damian about the offer when we woke up the next morning and we talked about it extensively. There was a lot going for it--proximity to the batcave, a fair amount of isolation and peace, access to Alfred, lots of space for Eira to run around in by herself. In the city, she always had to be accompanied and/or on a leash. And we could design a house that was big enough that we could squeeze in a kid or two and some cats. In the end, the pros outweighed the cons, which were mostly the fun and convenience of living in the city. We'd be looking at plans a couple of years out, which suited us both just fine, and we hunted up Daniel before breakfast to accept his generous offer.

After everybody else had left for work--I didn't have anywhere I needed to go that day so decided to spend it with Damian--we went to the library after his last scan (still clean) and curled up in the tete a tete seat, reading and talking. It was cozy with snow falling outside, books all around, a fire in the fireplace. Alfred came in mid-morning with coffee and Damian's tea.

"Miss Alex, I noticed a new vehicle in the garage. Do you know who owns it?" he asked, setting down a plate of croissants with hibiscus jam.

"In all the fuss, I completely forgot," I said ruefully. "It's mine."

"What?" Damian asked, so we all trooped out to see it.

"I had to restock my paramedic kit," I explained. "And there was so much stuff to carry and sometimes cabbies don't want to pick up Eira"--who frisked up, covered in snow, having a great time--"and I'd just had it. It has limited aerial capabilities, so I can use the launching decks to get in and out of the city and avoid traffic, and it's not a bad ride when it's on the ground. They even kicked in a nice blanket for Eira." I reconsidered. "Actually, you can borrow it, so it's 'we' can use the launching decks." Damian grinned.

"That's quite a lovely vehicle, Miss Alex," Alfred said. "Not as elegant as your first Jaguar roadster, but then times have changed, and it has its own charm."

"That's good, because Daniel offered us a site to build our own home on. It'll be nice to have our own transportation too," Damian told him. Alfred perked up, and knew the site when we said it was on the other side of the batcave. He rewarded our decision to accept Daniel's offer with a lunch of unusual splendor, complete with cupcakes. That afternoon, Damian and I talked about what we wanted in our ideal house. We had so many ideas that we'd need to sit down with an architect, but one thing we were in agreement on was the need for gardens. Looking at the topographical film, we could have a driveway swoop in off the main drive. On the other side of the driveway we wanted a fountain and a formal garden of some sort, extending around the sides and across the front of the house. In the back, a patio and informal garden beds, with a special covered spot for Eira. The dog in question loved the idea of moving out here in awhile and being able to go outside whenever she wanted, and had some ideas about her special spot; she envisioned an elevated platform, slatted for the summer, covered to keep the shade on her thick fur, with a drinking fountain nearby. Possibly with some nice flowering vines climbing up the supports for the roof.

"That seems reasonable," Damian said, and so progress was made.