Wayne Manor

Called in for work? Check. Presents? Check.

January 26 had arrived, Cassandra Cain's birthday, and they were ready. Dusk had already set and Gotham was steeped in shadows.

Aaron stood before a mirror, adjusting his crisp white dress shirt and dark blue blazer, meticulously making sure every button was in place. He paired them with tailored black trousers and polished dress shoes. Sophisticated but casual, with no tie or buttoned up blazer. In his hands, he held a beautifully wrapped gift box–a hardcover cookbook written by the original Red Tornado. He had loved the old woman's recipes. When he was a college student, they had saved him more times than he could count. Although she was gone from the world, he hoped to continue her legendary culinary legacy.

Meanwhile, Chloe twirled excitedly in her bedroom, wearing a vibrant floral dress that showcased her excitement. It was her first birthday party ever. Ironically, it was also Aaron's first birthday party. At the orphanage, birthdays weren't celebrated. Rather, they were days to keep count of your age. And at work, nobody invited him. He had been a loner, after all.

Chloe's dress flowed with every movement, adorned with splashes of colours. She slipped on a pair of dainty flats that allowed her to dance freely during the party. She carried a whimsically decorated gift bag in her left hand, bursting with bright tissue paper and a playful assortment of art supplies–a sketchbook, a set of fine markers, and a personalized birthday card, complete with a message and drawing. She didn't know Cassandra well but she (rightfully) assumed everyone had a creative side to them. While shopping, this was what she settled on and Aaron granted it.

On top of that, he baked cupcakes. It was a promise perhaps long forgotten, but Aaron never forgot. He told her that he would bake her a fresh batch of cupcakes, so that was what he did.

Eventually, they left the apartment, double-checking that the door was locked, and called up a taxi. While he carried the cupcakes, Chloe held the presents. The pair settled into the backseat of the taxi as they embarked on their journey to Wayne Manor Estate. The cab weaved through the darkened streets of Gotham City, the city's grim atmosphere seeping into every corner. The January snow had largely melted as if it had sensed Cassandra's upcoming birthday. Nevertheless, dilapidated buildings and flickering neon signs created an eerie ambiance, casting long shadows that seemed to swallow the few brave souls traversing the streets.

As they passed by alleys cloaked in darkness, Chloe's grip on Aaron's hand tightened. The tray of cupcakes shook as the road became bumpy. The graffiti-covered walls and broken windows served as a stark reminder of the city's challenges. He reassured her with a comforting smile.

Located at 1007 Mountain Drive in the Crest Hill community in the Bristol Township, Wayne Manor was twelve miles from Gotham City and stood alone The journey took close to an hour as they ventured from the center of Gotham to its outskirts. He and Chloe talked and discussed. The tray of cupcakes lay on his lap. At many times, the two of them were tempted to eat one. They held themselves, however, and they soon reached their destination. Isolated and gated, they needed to confirm their identities with their voices in order to enter.

"Who is this?" the voice on the speaker box asked. From the sound of it, it was Tim.

"Hey, Tim, this is Aaron. I'm with my daughter, Chloe." God, he loved using the daughter card. It always garnered sympathy. "I'm here for Cassandra's birthday party."

"O-oh, sure. It's opening now."

The taxi driver eyed him from the front, silently wondering who he was. There weren't many who could claim to enter a billionaire's private estate. The driver brought them through the gate and let them out.

"Wow…" Standing in the wake of the manor, Chloe's head tilted higher and higher till it could see the full length. "So cool…!"

The Wayne Manor was a majestic splendour. The sprawling estate stood isolated, elegant, and refined. Towering pillars flanked the entrance, leading to a grandiose front door. The well-manicured gardens that surrounded the manor offered a striking contrast to the urban decay they had left behind.

The tray of cupcakes shifted from the wind. "We should go in," Aaron said.

Chloe gulped. "Y-yeah…"

The large door opened before they could knock. Tim Drake welcomed them with a small, awkward smile. "Hey, guys. Come on in."

The grand foyer opened up before them, its marble floors gleaming under the warm glow of chandeliers. Decorative vases filled with vibrant flowers adorned the hall, infusing the air with a delicate fragrance. For a birthday party, however, it sure was empty. Then he recalled that this was a private event. No more than ten people, Tim said, just as Cassandra would want it.

To the left, there was a great big light. Taking slow steps and wanting to squeeze out a conversation, Tim glanced at him and asked, "Are those cupcakes?"

"Yeah. I promised Cass that I would bake them for her one day."

"Then today is that day, I suppose."

The kitchen was loud and rowdy, as well as massive. Easily ten times the size of his. He hid his surprise better than Chloe but he would be stupid not to admit its impressive scale. He saw and noted the familiar faces. Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, Duke Thomas, Selina Kyle, the Huntress (whose real name he did not know yet but who he could recognize due to her darker complexion), and, of course, Bruce Wayne. Basic birthday decorations engulfed the kitchen area. It was…too basic, actually. Whoever threw this party obviously wasn't experienced. Food and drinks adorned the long, chairless table, from sushi, steamed dumplings to noodles. A tall chocolate cake was set in the centre, dark and wrapped in yellow frosting. The colour schemes to Cassandra's Batgirl costume.

The birthday girl herself wasn't here yet. Perfect. He placed the tray on the table alongside the other stuff. He sensed a couple eyes on him. A presence slid beside him.

"We haven't met," the brown-skinned woman said, smiling devilishly, hand extended, "I'm Helena Bertinelli. School teacher and…" Leaning forward, whispering in his ear, she added, "The Huntress."

Well, that answered that.

"Good to meet you, I'm Aaron."

Hands were shaken. She held onto him a little too tightly.

"I know, we've met." Helena sent him a charming smile and then switched to a soft, motherly tone as she addressed his daughter. "And you, little princess. It's good to meet you. How old are you?"

Tentatively, Chloe shook Helena's outreached hand and mumbled, "N-nine."

"You must go to school then," Helena remarked. Her eyes flickered towards Aaron, subtly prodding him. "Or is she home schooled?"

"Home schooled," Aaron supplied.

"Ah, yes, that's becoming a bigger trend in Gotham." Helena sighed. "I work at an elementary school as a teacher. Trust me, Gotham public schools aren't as bad as the news say."