RP With Eleanor Bishop

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One might assume that Alfred Pennyworth, with his sharp looking suit and polite manners, would stick out at a prison but it's actually quite the opposite. He moves through it with a sort of calm assurance, like a man who is walking through a place he's been before and is no stranger to the rules or customs.

The time he spent in jail was not in America, it was back in England and while it thankfully wasn't for very long it goes a long way to giving him the aura of someone not to be messed with. Something the other inmates can sense and when he passes by their cells they don't mock him, only glance up for a moment as he goes by towards the visiting center.

The guard gives him a small, respectful nod and opens the door for him and it is only now that his heart starts to pound. It's not from being in a prison, it's from the woman sitting in the center of the room waiting for him.

Even now, years later and under rather bad circumstance, she takes his breath away.

"Hello, Ellie." He says, calling her by his old nickname for her.

Comments

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It was certainly not how she imagined things would go.

At leasts she was happy that it was not their first reunion in decades. No, Alfred had returned to her life at a time when she was wary he would sniff out the odor of her sins. But luckilly for her, he had arrived when she needed him the most. At a time when he could guide Kate, teach her the things she wouldn't ever listen from her mother. Most importantly, he was there to pick up the pieces after Eleanor was taken away.

It gave her a little peace of mind, knowing he was out there watching her daughter. Kate couldn't be in better hands.

And there he is. As stylish as ever, not even a single wrikle on his suit. He might be a little grayer, sure, but still handsome and the gentleman she remembers.

"Hello, Alfie."

She stands, suddenly feeling so very aware of the orange uniform she is wearing and the cuffs around her wrists. It's not exactly the glamorous picture of herself she tries to paint whenever she has a meaningful meeting ahead.

Eleanor glances at the guard behind the bars, silently asking if she's allowed to approach him. Touch him. Hug him.

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Even in the orange prison jumpsuit and without a lick of make-up she looks beautiful, in fact those things almost seem to highlight her beauty because it strips everything away and just shows her as the woman she is.

Strong, resilient, and full of grace.
She looks like a tired queen, one that has had to endure years of turmoil and burden and his heart aches to be her knight of honor.

The guard gives them both a nod to indicate that it's safe to touch and Alfred moves around the table that sits between them to embrace her. The handcuffs she wears don't hinder him in anyway and he wraps his arms around her, hugging her tightly.

"It's good to see you."

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It's an awkward position, but not simply because Eleanor's arms are pinned between their bodies, both angled towards Alfred's hips as her fingers close around his side and she leans into him. It brings memories, the sort of memories that involve the muscles, the body, before reaching the heart. Like a forceful hug when all she wanted to do was cry and trash the place away.

Alfred was always so good at grounding her. He was cold when he needed to be, could endure anything if that meant looking after her.

Even now he continues to be her guardian angel.

"I bet you say that to all the girls you visit in prison." She attempts to joke. Eleanor sounds exactly like that tired queen he sees through that plain uniform and the dark bags under her eyes.

Her hand closes in a tighter fist around his coat, before she pulls back, still within his embrace, putting enough distance between them to look at him in the eye.

"Thank you for coming."

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"Thank you for receiving me." He says, looking into her eyes without any hint of judgement or awkwardness. "I wasn't sure you would be up for visitors."

He knows that she's been going through a lot, not just physically but mentally. Prison is the one place where you can't really get away from yourself or your thoughts.

"I arranged for us to have tea." Because of course he did and he gives her a small smile. "And I've brought biscuits."

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Truth be told, Eleanor had not been all that eager to see anyone. Or rather, for anyone to see in this state. Exposed for her crimes, her mistakes, alone and hated by her own daughter. A shell of herself.

"I'm always happy to see you," she pointed out truthfully, not letting go of him but keeping at arm's lenght, her hand finding his cheek.

"Of course you did," finally, a true smile graced her now chapped lips. "You always know how to spoil me."

She waved a had towards the metallic table they would share. "Please, welcome. I'm not going to let the circumstances make me a terrible host," she joked.

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He leans his cheek against her hand, enjoying the warmth of her palm and the simple feeling of her touch and the brief glimpse of her actual smile.

"You can't have a proper visit with an Englishman without tea." He teases gently and when they finally step away from one another in order to sit down he is sad, always wanting to keep her close.

Alfred nods towards the guard and a moment later a pot of hot water is brought in, Alfred puts some tea bags into it and then produces a package of jaffa cakes for them to snack on.

"You remember the first time I made you try these?" He asks with a smile, "You were so put off by the idea of orange jelly in the center and yet somehow you ate the whole box when my back was turned."

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"And you always love to do things the proper way." Even if that was the Alfred way. Careful in every step, not gathering attention towards himself and deadly if needed to be. Sometimes she thought they were more alike than she wanted to admit to be. They were certainly better matched than she and Derek had been, even if she had walked down the aisle and worn the white gown to marry the young millionaire.

Derek will always be the love of her life, no matter how they clashed sometimes.

"Oh, my favorites!" She shakes away those thoughts, the remark bursting out instantly even though Alfred wasted no time at reminding her how she had distrusted his taste in biscuits back it the day. "Well, forgive me if they sounded horrible."

And yet, right now and with how she had almost forgotten what actual food tastes like, she sits down and wastes no time in taking one out and digging in. "If you're not careful I might eat the whole box again." She pointed out, hiding her mouth behind her hands as she chewed.

As soon as she was done, she reached out to touch his arm. "How are you?"

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In all his years of loving her Alfred has never once held it against her that she married Derek, he had met the man and knew he was a good bloke. Perhaps a little stupid when it came to money and business based on some of the more recent information that Kate has told him but he was a good man and he had made Eleanor happy and that was what mattered. Besides, Alfred knew in his heart that he wasn't good enough for her. She was a queen and deserved to marry a king who could make her feel happy and secure, not a beaten up war dog who sometimes didn't know when his next job was coming in.

"I'll be careful not to take my eyes off you then." An easy feat seeing how he always loves looking at her and when she puts a hand on his arm he covers it with one of his own.

"Oh I'm all right, been busy helping Master Bruce with the details of the annual Wayne holiday charity event. He's a bit older now so he wants to have more of a say in it."

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It seems to come natural to them.

The circumstances never mattered. They could be an ocean apart, a marrige could be between them, years pass by but the affection they share is always there, intact. Eleanor had felt it over the years, the ease in which she could slip into his embrace, how his hand now covers her own. It's an unspoken thing. Whatever thing is unresolved between them, one thing is certain. The way they care about each other will never thaw.

"Jesus, he must he so old now. Probably as tall as you are," she comments as she makes the math of the last time Alfred's shared pictures of the boy he looked after as his own.

But that boy is not her main concern. And as much as she wants to bite her tongue and be patient, Eleanor cannot pretend for long. "Have you seen Kate?"

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"Taller, actually." Alfred admits with a fake scowl but a second later it is replaced with a look of obvious pride. "He's sixteen now and becoming every bit of the amazing young man I knew he would be."

He knew it wouldn't be long before she asked about Kate, it is after all part of why he is visiting and he nods.

"She's been staying with us for the holidays."

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"He must be if you helped raising him." She gives his forearm a little affectionate squeeze with true heartfelt words. Eleanor has no doubts Alfred would have made a great father.

He is one, even if there's no blood ties between that boy and him.

As much as she wants to throw a million questions his way, she doesn't want to overwhelm him. And so, she focuses on grabbing the tea pot and pouring their drinks instead.

"Is she? I was wondering if she'd go back to California with her friends." She muses outloud. "How is she - How is she handling things?"

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"Much like her mother used to." He says after a moment. "By outwardly focusing on other things such as training, shopping and a boyfriend."

It's nothing against Kate or her mother, he just can't help but notice the similarities.

"But on the inside she's been slowly working through things. She's angry at you. Obviously. But she also misses you terribly, I can tell by the way she perks up when I talk about you in passing."

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"Oh, come on. You know I've always been focused in work." Eleanor had not come from luxury like Derek did, she had studied and worked hard her whole life, just like Alfred did. It was another reason why her old flame had always understood her better than her husband did.

Bantering aside, something else caught her attention. "I'm sorry, a boyfriend?"

Kate rarely shared her own love life with her mother, most of her relationships something she shared casually whenever she came back home from campus. Eleanor was glad for these news, she realized. At least her daughter wasn't alone with her thoughts these holidays. She had Alfred, Bruce and whoever this boy was. "Tell me he is good to her."

She's not shocked to hear Kate is angry, that as much is obvious. In all honesty, she had every reason to feel disappointed. "Did you tell Kate you were coming?" Eleanor asked, putting down the tea pot.

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He clucks his tongue softly against the roof of his mouth when he realizes that he has very little information about the man Kate is seeing, "I think so. She was staying with him originally when she came to Gotham but they hit a bit of a rough patch, one she admits was mostly her fault, and decided it was a little too soon to be shacked up together. Which is how she came to stay with us."

Gently Alfred shakes his head, "No. She and I....have also had a recent argument and I decided it best not to say anything of my plan to visit you."

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If Eleanor is passing any judgement of Kate's living arrangement on a relationship that is probably too sudden in a very vulnerable moment in her life... Well, she does try and bite her tongue about it. But her relief is obvious when Albert mentions that her daughter is staying at Wayne manor instead of with mystery man.

"Good. It was far too soon," she mutters against her wish to be understanding of Kate's wishes.

At the mention of Kate and Alfred's clash, she does straighten her posture, frowing lightly as she lowers her cup of tea before she can even blow on it.

"You argued because of me," she states, this clearly not being a question.

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Eleanor's relief is more than obvious and if they were in a different position he might have laughed and teased her about that reaction but for now he just nods at her second statement, the one about his argument with Kate.

"Yes." A small pause before he adds, "She found out about her father and his initial involvement with Fisk."

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If her relief was obvious then her shock now hits even harder. Lowering the cup until it almost touches the metallic table, her lips remain parted, but now words come out of her mouth just yet.

"She..."

Eleanor had been so careful about that, keeping every document sealed and hidden, making sure Derek's involvment was a secret lost in time.

"Did Fisk spill out? My lawyer didn't say a thing..."

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"I honestly don't know how she found out." Alfred says, "But she has and that is part of why we argued."

He pauses to take a sip of tea and gather his thoughts. "I got frustrated with her when she kept blaming you for it all and calling you a bad person." He looks up into Eleanor's eyes. "Which you're not, you made a mistake. I've made plenty of those so I understand but Kate refused to listen, she had already made her mind up as to who the villain in the story was."

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Getting lost in her own thoughts, Eleanor finally allows herself to taste that tea, her eyes closing as she allows herself to enjoy it and, for a very brief moment, imagine she's not behind bars or wearing cuffs.

She sighs as Alfred explains the situation, very much returning to her current reality. "You shouldn't have fought, you don't need to defend me." Eleanor points out quietly, even though she reaches for his hand to give it a grateful squeeze. "I understand why she is mad, why she's heartbroken over her dad. I always feared this might happen someday."

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"I didn't defend you because I thought I had to, I did it because I know you Ellie. I know you never meant for this to get so bad."

He says and laces his fingers through hers, holding her hand tightly.

"And I know why you never told her, why you let her keep thinking her father was perfect."

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"I never intended to kill anyone, but I did." And that has nothing to do with Derek, she tells herself, even though she is well aware of how things snowglobbed as years passed and she had no other option but to work with Fisk.

There's clear sadness in the way she smiles, holding tight onto Alfred's hand.

"She deserved not to be disappointed by at least one of her parents."

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"I know."

And he knows that the guilt is eating her alive, just like it does to him when he has to kill. He's never liked it, he just happens to be good at it.

"She also deserves to know that her parents are people. Real ones who make mistakes like she will."

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Always trying to keep a regal aura to herself, Eleanor is careful about her posture, never hunching her back, always keeping the tone of her voice under control.

Right now, she bats her lashes a few times, trying not to let her weakness overcome her.

"She deserves someone like you to look after her." And yet, she shakes her head. "I know I put a huge responsibility over your shoulders when you already have Bruce. I don't know what I did to deserve you, in all honesty."

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"First of all, you didn't put anything on me. I offered." He says firmly.

"And second, you know what you did to deserve me."

His voice is a soft rumble and he looks into her eyes with quiet sincerity. She knows that he will always love her, that he'll always be here for her.

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It was all bad timing when it came to them. She was with someone, he was with someone. There was business and travelling and mistakes, but one thing never changed. She did love him back, even when she also loved someone else.

"You deserved someone better then," she corrects herself, holding up his hand to feel it once more against her face.

Back when they reunited, Jacques had been by her side, a future husband. Again bad timing. Now, he saw her bare like nobody else could.