Bruce or rather Bree Wayne went back to her room. Alfred in the body of Amelia Penny Worth went about trying to shower and change. Bruce was concerned, what the hell was he going to do as a teenage girl? From what Dick said, at least Bruce had the advantage of not having to worry about the boys, but the Fop act was designed for use by a man on a woman, not for teenage lesbians. Bree had been training for the “Mission,” and that meant that this body while smaller and lighter then Bruce’s was still powerhouse for its size and on par with Cassie Cain’s. Bruce looked at Bree as she passed the mirror next to the bed room door. 5’10”, Black Hair, pale faced, slight freckles, and a gymnast’s body.
The room was like a black and white painting almost. Oak four post bed, black satin sheets, American Gothic painting print, painting of Thomas and Martha Wayne, dark stained dresser and mirror combo, and a dark stained wardrobe. The walk in closet was filled with mostly black. It was a mix of vinyl, leather, silk, velvet, and wool. There were a few sexy outfits but most of it was very much starched collars and non-sexy outfits.
Bruce was struck with a strange realization, he was hear and this Bree was in his body back home.
Scare Crow had no idea what the hell got into the Bat, but he was scared.
“SCARE CROW,” The bat called.
That was the last thing before the boot connected with Scare Crow’s nuts and he passed out from the pain.
Dick sat at the island drinking a glass of orange juice. Alfred or Amelia or whoever was in Amelia’s body was making pancakes. Bree or Bruce or whoever walked in Bree’s classic black Goth girl outfit. Dick tried to think about the whole metaphysics of whatever was going on, and it was giving him a headache.