The only reason I have for writing this is Alfred's awesomeness. That, and the imagen of an oddly uncomfortable Alfred dealing with an adorkable little Bruce, all the while maintaining his dignified and upright self.*nods*
First of all I feel like I need to point out I'm not trying to portray the Waynes as bad or negligent parents. Not at all. But they both were very important and busy people -especially Thomas- so I think there must have been times when they just couldn't be there for young Bruce and Alfred stepped in. Because I think Alfred and Bruce must have gotten along pretty well even then for the Waynes to leave their son's care entrusted to him, even if they did trust him.
Lastly, I don't owe The Dark Knight trilogy or any of its characters, sadly.
OoOoO
Chapter I: Storm.
Alfred walked quietly through the hallway, making his usual inspection around the Manor before retiring to rest for the night.
The whole staff had left for the day hours ago, leaving the Manor in an absolute silence, broken only by the gentle noise of the rain hitting against the window panes.
Martha Wayne had put his son to bed almost half an hour past the boy's usual bedtime today, having consented to the young boy's request to wait for his father's return. It hadn't been until Thomas Wayne had called and talked with his son for a few minutes that Master Bruce had sullenly allowed his mother to lead him upstairs and to his bedroom.
Closing the door of the library softly behind himself, Alfred turned around and walked across the hall to the main study; his footsteps muted by the thick carpet.
With the young Master tucked into bed, Mrs. Wayne and Alfred had exploited the quietness to tidy up a few details for the upcoming charity fundraiser that would be hosted at Wayne Manor two weeks from now. She bidden him good night after things were taken care of and had retired upstairs.
That had been little over an hour ago.
The first thing that caught Alfred's attention when he pulled the door of the study open was the soft light coming from the desk lamp, which was turned on only when Mr. Wayne was working in his study. It took Alfred's eyes only a second to be drawn to the small figure barely visible under the large mahogany desk.
"Master Bruce?"
There was a soft sigh, followed by some shifting under the desk and then Alfred caught a glimpse of hazel eyes in the space between the two visitor chairs.
"Hi, Alfred."
The butler reached for the light switch to his right and turned it on, filling the room with a soft yellow light causing the small figure tucked under the desk to become more visible.
"What are you doing here, sir?" Alfred inquired softly, walking further into the room.
Bruce ducked his head slightly, brushing away a strand of dark brown hair that had fallen over his forehead with his right hand. "I couldn't sleep."
Alfred pressed his lips together, lowering himself into one of the chairs to better face the young boy.
"How long have you been here, Master Bruce?"
Arms wrapped loosely around his legs, Bruce shrugged. "I don't know."
Alfred looked down at the boy, his brow furrowed in consternation. Had the young Master come down here right after his mother had put him to bed? No. Surely Mrs. Wayne had looked upon the boy when she had retired upstairs.
Bruce shifted under Alfred's gaze, hugging the stuffed bear he had brought with him closer. "The thunder woke me up and I couldn't go back to sleep."
"Yes. It was a rather loud storm, sir."
Alfred remained silent after that, allowing the young Master to talk further of his own accord.
"I thought-" Bruce bit his lip, diverting his eyes away from Alfred's and before speaking softly. "I thought I could stay here and wait for Father to come home."
Alfred suppressed a sigh, lest the perceptive young boy in front of him interpreted the act wrongfully. It was times such as these, when young Master Bruce sought his father's presence and comfort when the butler wished foolishly Mister Wayne were not the fine and capable busy man he was.
"I'm afraid your father wouldn't be home in the nearest future, Master Bruce."
"I know." The boy whispered, ducking his head. "I just couldn't go back to sleep by myself."
"Sir, I dare say your mother would have-"
"No." Bruce gave Alfred a sheepish look for the interruption and a quiet murmured apologize. "When I couldn't sleep I went to Mother and Father's bedroom but Mother was already asleep. I didn't want to wake her so I came down here."
"I understand that, young sir, but you must also understand I cannot allow you to remain here at this late hour." Alfred paused for a moment, rising from the chair. "You must come out of there now, sir."
Bruce slowly crawled out from under the desk after a moment, stuffed bear clutched in one of his small hands.
The corner of Alfred's mouth twitched at the sight of the stuffed toy. The very first one purchased after Master Bruce's parents learned they would have a child. And still one of the young boy's favorites.
Bruce stood awkwardly in front of Alfred, his small form clad in light blue pajamas and bouncing on the balls of his feet.
"Come young sir, it is time to go back to bed." After a moment's hesitation, Alfred held out his hand for the young boy to take.
Bruce stood still for a second, blinking at the outstretched hand before hurrying to take it. He carefully kept his gaze down and away from Afred's.
The small hand was cold against his own, prompting the butler to give it a soft squeeze.
Bruce tightened his grip on Alfred's hand the more they approached the staircase, making the butler turn to look at the top of the boy's dark head. It wasn't at all difficult to imagine what had brought the small gesture.
Alfred cleared his throat. "I shall now escort you up to your room. If you don't mind, sir."
"I- No. I- I don't mind. Thank you, Alfred." Bruce mumbled, his stance dropping considerably.
Bruce didn't let go of Alfred's hand until they came into his bedroom and the butler prompted him to climb into bed, tucking him in and tidying up the comforter on the bed as much as it was possible around the small body.
Alfred was about to bid the young boy good night when the sound of his name called from the bed in a soft voice stopped him.
"Yes, Master Bruce?"
"Can you-" Bruce stopped abruptly, running his fingers over the soft fabric of the comforter, eyes downcast. "Would you mind reading me some? It- It helps me fall asleep."
The hesitant and quiet request took Alfred by surprise, leaving him momentarily at a loss for words.
Master Bruce had a natural love for books, even when at his young age his reading skills were still developing and, therefore, bedtime stories were highly special for him. It was usually his mother who read to him, and his father, on the few occasions he came home early. Ever since the boy had turned three years old, not even Mrs. Crawford -who had been Master Bruce's care provider since his birth and until only a few years ago- had been accepted by the young boy as the narrator of his beloved bedtime stories.
And so Alfred took a moment to cover his surprise before walking closer to the bed.
"Certainly, sir."
The little shy smile he received from the young boy was enough to pull a small, honest smile of his own in reply.
He took the book lying on the bedside table carefully, sitting down on the edge of the bed after a second of hesitation and started reading.
OoOoO
a/n: So yeah. I have zero acknowledge of British vocabulary (And let's be honest, my English isn't anywhere near perfect either. Non-native speaker here *waves*), let alone any clue of how a gentleman's gentleman must conduct himself other than what I've seen in the movies, so if you think my characterization of Alfred was total trash or have any piece of advice please, please let me know so I can avoid further embarrassment and improve it or better stop trying to write Alfred. He's too awesome to be written badly :P
I already have a couple of ideas so please let me know if you'd like to read more and feel free to suggest prompts too. If I can come up with something good for them, I will write them :)
Also, this is unbetaed so please feel free to point out any mistake.
