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schizoauthoressI know that the prompt says Pre-Crisis Jay and Alfred, but Alfred informed me that he was far too busy to appear in my story for much longer than he did, and Bruce wanted to get some attention. My Bruce muse has only EVER spoken up when I write Pre-Crisis or Pre-Crisis-esque stuff. I don't think the Batman in my head likes being Batdick the Batgod.
Title: Jason and the Dessert Dilemma
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: G
Spoilers: This version of the universe got wiped out over twenty years ago. I ain't spoilin' a damn thing.
Warnings: Pre-Crisis Batman! Pre-Crisis Jason Todd! Rampant enthusiasm and good cheer!
Prompt: DCU, Pre-crisis Jason Todd and Alfred Pennyworth, stealing cake
Word Count: 947
Summary: In which Jason Todd, formerly of Sloan Circus and the Flying Todds, reveals himself to be a superlative abuser... among other terrible things.
****
(originally posted at comment_fic)
Jason and the Dessert Dilemma
Jason is -- finally, wonderfully, ecstatically -- the new Robin; he's partner to the world's greatest detective and successor to one of the most super of all superheroes, and despite the long hours and thankless work, it's the best thing that's ever happened to him. Much better than he could have ever imagined anything could be after learning of his parents' death. Oh, it doesn't fill the empty space left by them in his life and in his heart, but his new duties and the satisfaction of doing something so good and right makes that empty space hurt less.
He's determined to be the best sidekick that Bruce could ever ask for (even if that, treacherously, means being even better that Dick Grayson... but Jason consoles himself that his ambitions are all right because Dick gave his blessing regarding Jason taking up the mantle of Robin). He's determined to be good and honorable, accomplished and ethical. He can. He will.
He's fought Poison Ivy, forced her to give up her mad schemes. He's stood his ground against the Killer Croc, against the Scarecrow....
But this is truly a test of his abilities and resolve.
Today is Bruce's birthday, and Gotham's high society dictates that there be a fabulous party to celebrate it. (Jason knows that, for the most part, Bruce only goes along with such ideas to keep his cover as harmless billionaire playboy philanthropist intact. But it still means a party.) Alfred has been working on organizing things for a solid week.
Jason peeks around the corner into the kitchen. No one there, which has become a rarity within the last twenty-four hours. He sneaks inside on silent feet, drawing on every bit of his training to remain undetected.
This is, perhaps, an improper use of such talents.
Oh, who is he kidding? He's been expressly told to keep out of the kitchen and not filch any of the incredibly tempting sweets that have been created in Bruce's honor. This is unscrupulous and goes against every principle he's supposed to uphold as Batman's partner.
But, as he beholds his objective, any thoughts of self-recrimination flee from his brain. He knows that this is the centerpiece of the banquet -- the crowning accomplishment of the whole spread. He knows that it would be very, very, very wrong to steal even the smallest piece from it before it can be presented in all its glory to the party guests.
But it's a red velvet cake -- made with the finest ingredients, topped with ridiculously rich buttercreme frosting -- and that is, without a doubt, Jason's absolute favorite kind of cake. He picks up a nearby serrated kitchen knife. If he cuts off just a thin crescent piece from the back of it... if he covers it up with the extra frosting... maybe he can get away with--
"Ahem."
Jason freezes. He looks over his shoulder in the direction that the familiar, disapproving voice came from. Ashamed, he hangs his head slightly and puts the knife back down on the kitchen counter.
"Sorry, Alfred..." Jason starts to say, meekly.
Frowning mightily, Alfred does not reply with words. He only points with one hand toward the exit and stares at Jason. Jason withers under the scrutiny and scurries out. Behind him, he hears Alfred grumble something unintelligible and firmly shut the kitchen door.
Jason sighs and scuffs his foot against the corner of an expensive imported rug -- straightening it with the same foot a moment later. No doubt it is for the best that he was caught. No doubt it is a good thing that he hasn't compromised the values that Bruce has tried to instill in him. No doubt...
He wanders down the hallway, finding himself outside Bruce's study soon enough. As usual, the door is closed. He knocks on it, fully intending to confess his temptations and the near-sin that Alfred thwarted. "Bruce?" he says, after a moment with no reply from within, "It's Jason. Can I talk to you?"
Bruce open the study door a tiny, tiny sliver. His eye -- all the Jason can make out of his face -- darts to the left and right a few times, before he finally opens the door. Then he pulls a thoroughly confused Jason into the study shuts the door again. "Had to make sure you were alone..." Bruce says in a near-whisper; to himself or to Jason, Jason can't quite tell.
"Um, Bruce..."
"Excellent work providing a distraction, old chum," Bruce continues, happily but still softly. "I never would have been able to steal that top tier without you diverting Alfred's attention at the critical moment." He goes over to a nearby wheeled serving cart and whisks the cover off a tray -- which Jason had assumed was merely covering the remains of his breakfast. A pitcher of milk -- along with two glasses, two plates, and two forks -- is revealed... along with a small, round buttercreme-frosted red velvet cake.
Through his shock, Jason is aware that his mouth is hanging open. But his brain is too busy trying to make sense of what he's seeing to shoot off the command to close his mouth.
Bruce seems amused by his confusion. "If there's one thing that ruins an excellent dessert," he informs his young ward, "it's a boring party where you have to make nice with people you don't really care to associate with. So how about you and I enjoy this cake as it deserves, partner?"
Now that makes sense! Jason beams at Bruce and replies, "Anything you say, partner!" because hearing that word from Bruce is sweeter than any confection could possibly be.
****
Title: Jason and the Dessert Dilemma
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: G
Spoilers: This version of the universe got wiped out over twenty years ago. I ain't spoilin' a damn thing.
Warnings: Pre-Crisis Batman! Pre-Crisis Jason Todd! Rampant enthusiasm and good cheer!
Prompt: DCU, Pre-crisis Jason Todd and Alfred Pennyworth, stealing cake
Word Count: 947
Summary: In which Jason Todd, formerly of Sloan Circus and the Flying Todds, reveals himself to be a superlative abuser... among other terrible things.
****
(originally posted at comment_fic)
Jason and the Dessert Dilemma
Jason is -- finally, wonderfully, ecstatically -- the new Robin; he's partner to the world's greatest detective and successor to one of the most super of all superheroes, and despite the long hours and thankless work, it's the best thing that's ever happened to him. Much better than he could have ever imagined anything could be after learning of his parents' death. Oh, it doesn't fill the empty space left by them in his life and in his heart, but his new duties and the satisfaction of doing something so good and right makes that empty space hurt less.
He's determined to be the best sidekick that Bruce could ever ask for (even if that, treacherously, means being even better that Dick Grayson... but Jason consoles himself that his ambitions are all right because Dick gave his blessing regarding Jason taking up the mantle of Robin). He's determined to be good and honorable, accomplished and ethical. He can. He will.
He's fought Poison Ivy, forced her to give up her mad schemes. He's stood his ground against the Killer Croc, against the Scarecrow....
But this is truly a test of his abilities and resolve.
Today is Bruce's birthday, and Gotham's high society dictates that there be a fabulous party to celebrate it. (Jason knows that, for the most part, Bruce only goes along with such ideas to keep his cover as harmless billionaire playboy philanthropist intact. But it still means a party.) Alfred has been working on organizing things for a solid week.
Jason peeks around the corner into the kitchen. No one there, which has become a rarity within the last twenty-four hours. He sneaks inside on silent feet, drawing on every bit of his training to remain undetected.
This is, perhaps, an improper use of such talents.
Oh, who is he kidding? He's been expressly told to keep out of the kitchen and not filch any of the incredibly tempting sweets that have been created in Bruce's honor. This is unscrupulous and goes against every principle he's supposed to uphold as Batman's partner.
But, as he beholds his objective, any thoughts of self-recrimination flee from his brain. He knows that this is the centerpiece of the banquet -- the crowning accomplishment of the whole spread. He knows that it would be very, very, very wrong to steal even the smallest piece from it before it can be presented in all its glory to the party guests.
But it's a red velvet cake -- made with the finest ingredients, topped with ridiculously rich buttercreme frosting -- and that is, without a doubt, Jason's absolute favorite kind of cake. He picks up a nearby serrated kitchen knife. If he cuts off just a thin crescent piece from the back of it... if he covers it up with the extra frosting... maybe he can get away with--
"Ahem."
Jason freezes. He looks over his shoulder in the direction that the familiar, disapproving voice came from. Ashamed, he hangs his head slightly and puts the knife back down on the kitchen counter.
"Sorry, Alfred..." Jason starts to say, meekly.
Frowning mightily, Alfred does not reply with words. He only points with one hand toward the exit and stares at Jason. Jason withers under the scrutiny and scurries out. Behind him, he hears Alfred grumble something unintelligible and firmly shut the kitchen door.
Jason sighs and scuffs his foot against the corner of an expensive imported rug -- straightening it with the same foot a moment later. No doubt it is for the best that he was caught. No doubt it is a good thing that he hasn't compromised the values that Bruce has tried to instill in him. No doubt...
He wanders down the hallway, finding himself outside Bruce's study soon enough. As usual, the door is closed. He knocks on it, fully intending to confess his temptations and the near-sin that Alfred thwarted. "Bruce?" he says, after a moment with no reply from within, "It's Jason. Can I talk to you?"
Bruce open the study door a tiny, tiny sliver. His eye -- all the Jason can make out of his face -- darts to the left and right a few times, before he finally opens the door. Then he pulls a thoroughly confused Jason into the study shuts the door again. "Had to make sure you were alone..." Bruce says in a near-whisper; to himself or to Jason, Jason can't quite tell.
"Um, Bruce..."
"Excellent work providing a distraction, old chum," Bruce continues, happily but still softly. "I never would have been able to steal that top tier without you diverting Alfred's attention at the critical moment." He goes over to a nearby wheeled serving cart and whisks the cover off a tray -- which Jason had assumed was merely covering the remains of his breakfast. A pitcher of milk -- along with two glasses, two plates, and two forks -- is revealed... along with a small, round buttercreme-frosted red velvet cake.
Through his shock, Jason is aware that his mouth is hanging open. But his brain is too busy trying to make sense of what he's seeing to shoot off the command to close his mouth.
Bruce seems amused by his confusion. "If there's one thing that ruins an excellent dessert," he informs his young ward, "it's a boring party where you have to make nice with people you don't really care to associate with. So how about you and I enjoy this cake as it deserves, partner?"
Now that makes sense! Jason beams at Bruce and replies, "Anything you say, partner!" because hearing that word from Bruce is sweeter than any confection could possibly be.
****