"Each cup of tea represents an imaginary voyage.”

[apennyworth]

Alfred Pennyworth carefully arranged the plate of cookies next to the teapot and lifted the fully stocked tray with steady hands. He had managed to coerce Bruce into agreeing to join him in the sunroom for a tea. Young Master Bruce did not take nearly enough time to rest, in his eyes, and Alfred grew more and more concerned as each day passed

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[cyfor]

There's a cat by your feet, Alfred, peering up at you with huge and unsettling goldenrod eyes. She's small and stubby and fluffy and very, very dirty.

When she blinks, her eyes take a brief blue sheen, and then they're gold again.

"Ha. I found it."

Cy is very pleased with herself.

[apennyworth]

Startled, Alfred looked down at the small cat. "I beg your pardon," he replied instinctively in a proper British accent.

After responding to the little cat, he realized he had spoken to a cat...a cat which had spoken first to him.

Sighing, relieved, Alfred kneeled down next to the cat and smiled gently. He was dreaming, naturally. It was the only explanation. Why else would he be in the middle of a park with a speaking cat? Accepting that he was either dreaming, hallucinating, or completely mad, Alfred inclined his head slightly. "May I ask what you have found?"

Surely, Bruce would find him soon and assist him in figuring out exactly what was wrong with him. He simply needed to remain calm.

[cyfor]

"The Caped Cornmuffin's north star." She preens. "Come on Worthapenny."

She whisks her tail into the air and trots down the path toward the street, pausing once to look back and whisper, "He's a bat, you know. It's a problem."

[apennyworth]

If Alfred was confused before, he had now passed confused and reached a state of being utterly baffled. He stood and moved to pick up his tea tray, unable to simply leave it there, then followed the cat toward the street.

"A bat," he said quietly, almost to himself. His thoughts moved immediately to Bruce. While he was uncertain as to who or what the Caped Cornmuffin was, he did not appear to have many alternatives at the moment except to go with the cat.

It would seem the cat knew who he was, however it was only polite to properly introduce himself. "I am Alfred Pennyworth," he said softly. "May I ask your name?" That he was speaking in a civilized fashion with a cat would be something he would think about at a later time.

[rattle_thecages]

Have Rachel Dawes sitting on one of the benches, books piling up on her lap. Rachel values knowledge, above all, and to best confront this situation she needs to have the answers first. She certainly can't begin to do anything without fully understanding what has happened and how everything works.

The books fall from her lap as she spots the familiar figure. It can't be. She wonders if it's only a hallucination, born from the desire to see the man she's missed so dearly.

She doesn't move. The raw emotion is stuck in her throat and she's sure if she makes a sound it'll be as if pushed through broken glass.

What if he doesn't know me either?

She isn't sure she wants to find out.

[apennyworth]

Turning his head slightly at the sound of something falling, Alfred caught sight of a young woman sitting on a another bench. At first glance, he looked away, saddened by the mere sight of someone who resembled the Rachel he'd known since he was a little girl...the one who had died so recently. He had missed her dearly, having watched her grow up beside his Bruce. He could not have loved her more had she been his own child.

The situation he seemed to be in gave him pause, and he looked up once again. It was, in fact, Rachel Dawes. She was alive, and a very short distance from him.

His head tilted to the side and his hand shook slightly as he attempted to lift it. He felt caught, as though the air had thickened, and he had to force himself to step forward. "My dear girl," he said quietly. Did his voice shake? Yes, it did, and if there were tears in his eyes, they would need to be excused.

[rattle_thecages]

Rachel draws in a sharp breath, and it feels like there's are vines wrapping around her heart and squeezing tightly. Her own eyes are watery, and she bites down on her lip to keep it from shaking. Before she can speak, before she can act, what does she do?

"Alfred?" she asks cautiously. Her voice is small and barely audible, akin to when she was a little girl with a scraped knee. She'd hoped, but immediately the hope was trampled with the reality it was possible he didn't know her.

Finally standing, she can't bring herself to take a step forward.

"You know who I am?"

[apennyworth]

The sound of her voice brings him into a heightened state of reality. She is, in fact, there and standing.

"I have known you since you were a little girl," he said, his voice catching slightly on the words. "I have cleaned mud from your face and given you cookies, and when you were very young, you asked me to marry you. I have missed you a great deal, Rachel Dawes."

He walks forward again and decides that if he is dreaming or insane, perhaps it is not such a bad thing. For a moment, he wonders if he has died and his joy at seeing Rachel is only mingled with concern for Bruce. He cannot abide the thought of the young man being alone. At the moment, however, his concern is focused on Rachel. She's there.

[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys has her wagon behind her, humming a tune that is very possibly Little Red Wagon, when she sees the vaguely confused man with-- could it be?

"Cookies!" she squeals, racing over to him. "You have cookies!" she's practically bouncing with glee. She pulls up her wagon close behind her and points. "Me too!" she says.

Clearly they are, um. Cookie twins. Or something. Gladys is kind of strange.

[apennyworth]

Alfred is taken a bit by surprise, but he remembers to bow politely and smile. He looks at the woman's wagon and nods. "Indeed, you do, Madam," he says, returning his focus to the woman immediately.

"I was on my way to tea," he explains, "and I found myself here." Taking a deep breath, he offers his hand. "I do beg your forgiveness for my lack of manners. My name is Alfred Pennyworth."

Perhaps the lovely woman would know what, precisely, was going on.

[cookiesandhugs]

"Ohhhhhhhh," Gladys nods quite a few times, running through several variations of 'understanding' faces. "You're one of those. A wanderer. Well, welcome to Chicago, motherfucker!" She grins broadly at him. "Only kidding, of course."

She takes his hand and pumps it up and down several times. "Oh, no need to apologize for manners. I just said motherfucker, for crying out loud! As my WELCOME! But yes. It's lovely to meet you, Alfred. I'm Gladys."

Oh, Gladys has a vague idea what's going on, sure. Getting it out of her is a whole other deal.

[apennyworth]

If Alfred is shocked, it certainly doen't show. His smile warms as he inclines his head. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintence, Gladys." He is curious about a great many things, particularly the word 'wanderer', but he is a gentleman and a gentleman does not pepper a lady with self-serving questions.

Glancing around the park for a moment, he presses his lips together for a moment before addressing Gladys again. "I am afraid I am not at all certain how I came to be in Chicago. I was in Gotham, and I am very concerned that there are those who will be concerned as to my whereabouts."

Alfred takes another breath and gestures to the tea tray. "Might I get you a cup of tea, Gladys?"