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polychromatic) wrote2012-06-02 12:15 pm
polychromatic) wrote2012-06-02 12:15 pm
Entry tags:
Bat-fam! Da na na na na na na na, Bat-fam!
DC Universe
How to Valet to Bats and Robins
Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Damian Wayne
Written for![[info]](https://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif?v=91.5)
comment_fic
Posted here.
Prompt: Alfred, How he puts up with them all
897 words.
It was a rainy night.
If there was one thing that Alfred had learned over the years - indeed he had made the observation to the Great Detective himself - it was that the greatest deterrent to crime was uncooperative weather. No doubt the night patrols would be cut short in favour of monitoring the police radio scanners. Inevitably, it meant that the quiet he had been so enjoying would soon come to an end for the sake of dry cleaning crime-fighting costumes.
Ah, the life of a loyal valet.
By the time Batman and Robin had returned, Alfred was already waiting with warm towels, hot chocolate, and a mop. At Dick's proclamation that Alfred was a lifesaver, Damian had only let out an irritated -tt- to register his disagreement.
"While your unwarranted use of hyperbole is appreciated, Master Richard, I am merely anticipating the obvious. Though, unless Master Damian truly wants hot chocolate waiting on a rainy night to be the pinnacle of my lifesaving acts on his behalf, he might rethink his flippant attitude," Alfred ended a little acridly.
Red Robin was the next to return with Batgirl in tow, which earned a second irritated -tt- from Damian. "Don't you have your own girly hideout, Girl Blunder?" he pointed at her accusingly.
"Sure, but things are getting a little too 'Boys Only Club' in the Batcave, and I can't let that happen, now can I?" she said while removing her cowl and accepting a towel from Alfred with her most winning smile, "Which brings me to point number two: Alfred's the best and totally one-of-a-kind and it's not fair to keep him to yourselves. Plus I've been craving his brownies since forever."
"Like you need anymore," Damian grumbled under his breath before turning on Tim, "And you--!"
"Not in the mood, Damian," Tim said wearily, accepting his cup of hot chocolate, "Take your midget anger out on somebody else tonight, okay?"
"I will not be mocked!" Damian yelled, throwing his gloves at Tim like a challenge, "Not by the likes of you, Drake!"
"Damian," Dick warned, but it was too late. Damian had flung himself at Tim, causing the older boy to lose his grip on the cup of hot chocolate which promptly shattered all over the floor. Alfred was only too glad that he'd had the foresight to bring the mop, if not the broom. He wasn't perfect after all, just nearly so.
"Tim, he's just a kid!" was Stephanie's exasperated reaction as they grappled.
"Seriously?" Tim grit out, trying to get Damian in a headlock, "You're telling me off?"
Steph was rewarded for her efforts in trying to pry Damian off with an angry "Hands off, Fatgirl!"
"Yeah, you keep working that charm," she said, rolling her eyes.
"Enough!" Dick declared, trying to step between them, "You guys have got to stop this--"
"He started it!"
"Actually, it was you. Like it pretty much always is."
"Right, I am so storing this in my memory banks as a reminder of why I don't want to infiltrate the Boys Club more often."
"Damian, we talked about this! Tim, c'mon..."
"Look, he doesn't sit outside your room with a knife. I've had to reprogram my security more times than-- ow!"
"Ha! Teach you to underestimate me, Drake!"
"Okay, whoa, since when did biting become an acceptable fighting tactic? Pretty sure there's some sort of 'Thou shalt not follow the way of cannibals' in Batman's rules somewhere..."
"Guys, I mean it! Cut. It. Out."
"Ahem," Alfred intoned loudly enough to be heard above the rabble. "I take it that since you are all otherwise occupied, you no longer require my services, in which case I will take my leave. Master Dick will no doubt be more than obliging to prepare dinner for five, of which I'm sure Miss Stephanie will be of great help. Meanwhile, Master Tim and Master Damian will gamely tackle the task of laundering and repairing all costumes and cowls with great skill and using the appropriate mixture of chemicals. With any luck I will awaken tomorrow morning to Wayne Manor in one piece and not a steaming rubble. Or perhaps I will have thought to abandon it entirely in advance by obeying my survival instincts and seeking refuge with Dr. Thompson. Will that be all?"
Silence.
Then, "-tt-!" Damian said, undoing his cloak and throwing it to the ground with his gloves, "You've made your point, Pennyworth. I choose not ending Drake's miserable existence over doing menial work that is unbefitting of my status." And with that he stalked off.
"Sorry, Alfie," Tim looked ashamed and apologetic at once, "You know how he gets under my skin..."
"Quite. We are all still learning the extent of our patience, Master Tim. I am only just beginning to equate myself with the angels."
Dick only grinned as he removed parts of his costume and folded them neatly, "You know, Alfred, I can cook. There's certain skills I managed to acquire when I moved out."
Alfred merely raised an eyebrow.
"... but nowhere near as good as you, point taken," he laughed, "I'm going ahead to talk to Damian."
"Soooo... we're still on for the brownies, right?" Stephanie wheedled with a smile.
"Yes, Miss Stephanie," Alfred acquiesced with the fond sigh of the long-suffering, "There is already a batch in the oven."
"Score!"
How to Valet to Bats and Robins
Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Damian Wayne
Written for
comment_ficPosted here.
Prompt: Alfred, How he puts up with them all
897 words.
It was a rainy night.
If there was one thing that Alfred had learned over the years - indeed he had made the observation to the Great Detective himself - it was that the greatest deterrent to crime was uncooperative weather. No doubt the night patrols would be cut short in favour of monitoring the police radio scanners. Inevitably, it meant that the quiet he had been so enjoying would soon come to an end for the sake of dry cleaning crime-fighting costumes.
Ah, the life of a loyal valet.
By the time Batman and Robin had returned, Alfred was already waiting with warm towels, hot chocolate, and a mop. At Dick's proclamation that Alfred was a lifesaver, Damian had only let out an irritated -tt- to register his disagreement.
"While your unwarranted use of hyperbole is appreciated, Master Richard, I am merely anticipating the obvious. Though, unless Master Damian truly wants hot chocolate waiting on a rainy night to be the pinnacle of my lifesaving acts on his behalf, he might rethink his flippant attitude," Alfred ended a little acridly.
Red Robin was the next to return with Batgirl in tow, which earned a second irritated -tt- from Damian. "Don't you have your own girly hideout, Girl Blunder?" he pointed at her accusingly.
"Sure, but things are getting a little too 'Boys Only Club' in the Batcave, and I can't let that happen, now can I?" she said while removing her cowl and accepting a towel from Alfred with her most winning smile, "Which brings me to point number two: Alfred's the best and totally one-of-a-kind and it's not fair to keep him to yourselves. Plus I've been craving his brownies since forever."
"Like you need anymore," Damian grumbled under his breath before turning on Tim, "And you--!"
"Not in the mood, Damian," Tim said wearily, accepting his cup of hot chocolate, "Take your midget anger out on somebody else tonight, okay?"
"I will not be mocked!" Damian yelled, throwing his gloves at Tim like a challenge, "Not by the likes of you, Drake!"
"Damian," Dick warned, but it was too late. Damian had flung himself at Tim, causing the older boy to lose his grip on the cup of hot chocolate which promptly shattered all over the floor. Alfred was only too glad that he'd had the foresight to bring the mop, if not the broom. He wasn't perfect after all, just nearly so.
"Tim, he's just a kid!" was Stephanie's exasperated reaction as they grappled.
"Seriously?" Tim grit out, trying to get Damian in a headlock, "You're telling me off?"
Steph was rewarded for her efforts in trying to pry Damian off with an angry "Hands off, Fatgirl!"
"Yeah, you keep working that charm," she said, rolling her eyes.
"Enough!" Dick declared, trying to step between them, "You guys have got to stop this--"
"He started it!"
"Actually, it was you. Like it pretty much always is."
"Right, I am so storing this in my memory banks as a reminder of why I don't want to infiltrate the Boys Club more often."
"Damian, we talked about this! Tim, c'mon..."
"Look, he doesn't sit outside your room with a knife. I've had to reprogram my security more times than-- ow!"
"Ha! Teach you to underestimate me, Drake!"
"Okay, whoa, since when did biting become an acceptable fighting tactic? Pretty sure there's some sort of 'Thou shalt not follow the way of cannibals' in Batman's rules somewhere..."
"Guys, I mean it! Cut. It. Out."
"Ahem," Alfred intoned loudly enough to be heard above the rabble. "I take it that since you are all otherwise occupied, you no longer require my services, in which case I will take my leave. Master Dick will no doubt be more than obliging to prepare dinner for five, of which I'm sure Miss Stephanie will be of great help. Meanwhile, Master Tim and Master Damian will gamely tackle the task of laundering and repairing all costumes and cowls with great skill and using the appropriate mixture of chemicals. With any luck I will awaken tomorrow morning to Wayne Manor in one piece and not a steaming rubble. Or perhaps I will have thought to abandon it entirely in advance by obeying my survival instincts and seeking refuge with Dr. Thompson. Will that be all?"
Silence.
Then, "-tt-!" Damian said, undoing his cloak and throwing it to the ground with his gloves, "You've made your point, Pennyworth. I choose not ending Drake's miserable existence over doing menial work that is unbefitting of my status." And with that he stalked off.
"Sorry, Alfie," Tim looked ashamed and apologetic at once, "You know how he gets under my skin..."
"Quite. We are all still learning the extent of our patience, Master Tim. I am only just beginning to equate myself with the angels."
Dick only grinned as he removed parts of his costume and folded them neatly, "You know, Alfred, I can cook. There's certain skills I managed to acquire when I moved out."
Alfred merely raised an eyebrow.
"... but nowhere near as good as you, point taken," he laughed, "I'm going ahead to talk to Damian."
"Soooo... we're still on for the brownies, right?" Stephanie wheedled with a smile.
"Yes, Miss Stephanie," Alfred acquiesced with the fond sigh of the long-suffering, "There is already a batch in the oven."
"Score!"
no subject
And Alfred's threat must be really, really terrifying. Hahaha.