The Schemer

The Grudge

For Clara, it did take much longer to reach her house this time, as traffic increased together with the maturing day. People rushed towards their own destinations, ignoring basic civility and politeness. So much of a driver's etiquette, huh? The woman didn't complain though. Staying in traffic jams, she had enough time to construct the upcoming week. Using her phone, Clara arranged a schedule until Wednesday, keeping an eye on possible emergencies. Finally, she did a mental look-over of what her grocery list may consist of for the whole following week. Proteins, lots of proteins, just like always. Chicken breast, around a kilogram of it. Perhaps some lean steak that she would pan-fry, get a nice sear, but keep it rare. Also, vegetables. She ran out of red bell peppers yesterday, and mushrooms are left only a few, Clara needed those, too. She might want some asparagus, a natural diuretic, as she noticed some water retention due to the inflammation in her whole body. The stab wound and stress didn't go unnoticed. 

Suddenly, almost thoughtlessly, the woman changed her direction. Clara knew what she needed. A pushing-to-the-limits sparring session. Driving towards her mentor's mansion, the woman's thoughts were already consumed by excitement. The electricity that was directed towards the upcoming battle kept her concentration on the crowded road. Additionally, like a cherry on a cake, his mansion was located far nearer Gotham's centre than her own, which means, if Clara is lucky enough, she won't need to stay on the road during the peak hours. Usually, their sessions lasted from two to even four hours if they got consumed in technicalities of Krav Maga or Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Around that time when they're finished, streets should be already cleared, at least a little. 

Clara reached a closed gate to a huge white house in ten minutes. She pressed a button, located next to speakers, and patiently waited until the dungeon-deep Lucius's voice answered. 

"My, my, have I forgotten to note today's session in my planner?"

"It would mean that your memory is getting unstable. Not exactly the most pleasant scenario, right?"

Silence followed her teasing, the only non-verbal answer being slow sliding of the front gate, allowing Clara to drive inside. Smiling slightly to herself, she parked her black car next to the entrance, already spotting the African-American man standing on top of a long flight of stairs, meeting his guest. Lucius's silver hair glinted in the bright sunlight, creating an illusional halo. "Miss my company already, Doc?"

"If your company and skills were two separate things, I would definitely choose your skills." 

Lifting one eyebrow, Lucius double checked the woman in front of him. "Well, I have no intentions on giving my abilities a separate identity yet, so for now, I'm afraid, you will have to keep up with my company." Motioning towards the door, he asked. "Would you like some tea? Chocolate? So my skills could prepare mentally. I definitely need some time for that." Not waiting for an answer, Lucius span around and walked into the large mansion. The only thing that was left for the woman was to follow him.

"Did you see yesterday's news?"

"I did. Five banks in a row, that's a quick pace. Was it what pissed you off for two days?" The question threw her out of balance. Lucius Fox was surely an observant man, but Clara didn't expect him to know her mood that well.

"To some extent, yes."

"So in your language, it means a 'no', Doc?" Smiling, white teeth contrasting sharply with his dark skin, the man opened a large glass door to the kitchen. Immediately, smell of spices and herbs surrounded her, provoking Clara's sharp sense of smell. "Care to join me for lunch, not just tea?"

"Actually, my intentions were to kick your ass, Lucius, not have a meal with you." Sticking her nose in the air and taking a deep breath, she added. "On the other hand, it's not every day that I have gorgeous lamb. What did you marinate it in? Red wine?"