The now blonde Rachel Dawes came back to her apartment in the Gotham suburbs, having parked her Pruis in the driveway, wearing jeans and a white collared, buttoned down blouse, her hair back in a professional ponytail, as she walked in through the front door. Her feet ached from the pumps that she wore, and she kicked them off, as she came in through the front door and tossed her keys onto the table. Her black cat, Isis came down from upstairs, meowed and slinked across the floor to rub its body against her leg, and she picked it up and gave her cat a small kiss.
The job was getting harder. She always was saying that. She was a media celebrity now that she had come back into the public eye, and she resurfaced in Gotham, after eight long years of being dead, at the Joker’s hands. She was picking up the pieces of her old life, as the Assistant District Attorney of Gotham. Harvey was dead, his memory still enduring through the Dent Act, which kept thousands of organized crime figures and criminals off the street and in Blackgate prison. People her and Harvey had personally put away through hard work.
But it was impossible, and she wasn’t exactly a card carrying member of the new D.A., one Janice Porter from Boston, who was allegedly a former student of Harvey Dent from his teaching days, and allegedly had a torrid romance back with him. Of course, the busty blonde knew of “Harvey’s squeeze” as the tabloids had labeled her (she really hated that name, btw) and it was instant friction. She had treated Rachel like the coffee girl, and threw her weight around, and ignored her legal advice most of the time.
She just didn’t have the passion for it anymore. Bruce and her had reconnected. There was so much to tell him, and so much he didn’t understand. He didn’t even know that he had a teenaged daughter.
Besides, what would people think if they knew that their ADA was secretly a vinyl-glad jewel thief in BDSM attire, complete with whip? They’d have her burned at the stake.
She dropped her purse out onto the table, and came into the kitchen,finding Helena Wayne there, cooking.
“Hey. This isn’t bad, pumpkin.” She smiled, hugging her daughter from behind and kissing her cheek. “Looks like the Dawes family gene of great cooking didn’t skip a generation. Your grandmother was a great cook, for the Wayne family. When your father and I were kids.”
She went to the fridge, getting some orange juice. That’s right. It’s mother’s day today, she sighed in thought. Mom would have loved grandkids.
Helena spun around to face the opening of the kitchen, hearing the sound of her mother’s feet stepping toward her. “Good morning, mom,” She greeted her mother, smiling back at her.
“You haven’t even tasted anything yet,” Helena chuckled. It must have been true, since never in her life did she see her father cook. He had Alfred and his personal cooks to prepare all his food for him and she never heard anything about Bruce’s mother cooking either. Her smile slowly faded thinking about Martha Wayne; her father would have no mother of his own to spend the day with and spoil. There was Rachel, the mother of his daughter, but it wasn’t the same. And same for Rachel and her mother. Rachel loved to talk about her mom, and no matter how much she seemed happy when she talked, there was always a sadness to her voice. Today was bittersweet even though it was supposed to be a joyous one.
“Speaking of grandma, I found some of her recipes and I thought I would try one for today,” Helena informed her mother as she walked over to the stove and placed a kettle on the stove top to warm up some water for tea. After she turned the stove top on she turned back to look at her mother, “It’s the coffee cake muffins and they should be done in about ten minutes, but that’s not all I made,” Helena walked over to island in the middle of the kitchen and began to present the already finished breakfast items she made for her mother. “I made cinnamon roll pancakes, a fresh fruit salad, those coffee cake muffins in the stove, and some good ole scrambled eggs and bacon,” She listed out, pointing to each of the food and drink items.
“Just a couple of things for today. Plus I figured you would want some leftovers so I made a lot,” She chuckled again. Saying it was a lot of food was an understatement, but Helena loved to cook and like her mother, she caught the Dawes cooking gene and definitely took advantage of it. Whenever there was a possibility she could cook, Helena took up the opportunity. She had yet to convince Alfred to let her cook for one night though, it was his kitchen so she didn’t blame him. Then again, it was technically hers as well.
“Now go sit down, mom, and you can tell me about how the job is going,” Helena told her mother, waving her hands at Rachel before she grabbed the food piled plates to set on the dining room table.
Helena wasn’t the type of person to go all out for the more notable and celebratory days of the year, yet there was one that she participated in was Mother’s Day. True, every day was Mother Day’s to her but her father had informed his daughter at a young age of the day where your mother had a whole day dedicated to her and nobody else. Young Helena took that to heart and every year on that special day she would treat her mother, Rachel, the most important person in her life, like the queen she knew she was.
One of Helena’s secret talents was that she cooked and was rather good at it. It wasn’t something she would tell anyone and say that she loved to cook. Only her family knew of her cooking and actually got to eat it with today being no expectation. Helena was down in the kitchen of her mother’s home, having snuck in about an hour before so that her mother Rachel would wake up to a Mother’s Day breakfast. It was tiring work to make all that food at eight in the morning, however it was a labor of love from Helena. Something she could only do for her mother…
“Over thereee…” She pointed to a open area, since she was overdosing she thought there was a building right there.
“There is no hotel over there. God, you are really out of it,” Helena remarked, shaking her head.
“Anna Johnson,” she said with a smile. “Nice to meet you.”
“Uh, pleased to meet you as well Anna. I thought I’d see everything in this town, well until I’ve met you. So how is it being a vampire if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Nothing too complicated. There’s a weapons shipment supposed to be coming in tonight at the docks, but the information seems a little easy. It’s either a trap or a cover-up. Hence why I’d prefer backup.”
“I see why you are in need. Well, you’re in luck, Tim. I have nothing else to do for the night, so I’ll give you a hand,”
“But it’s soooo fun mannn..hahaaaaa…Moonshine doesn’t minddd…”
“For you, but I really don’t care whether or not your girlfriend likes it either. It’s honestly disgusting and unsanitary.